Dream Sequence/Terrifying Memory: Warning - Violent

[CAlexandria]

WARNING: This passage contains somewhat graphic violence and implies previous murders.
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The moment Johnny's head met the soft pillows he was asleep off in the nightmares of his memory.
Tick tock…tick tock… he could hear the clock ticking loudly behind him. Each second was more agonizing than the last as he waited for the sirens to come. The harsh laughter coming from the man before him brought bile to his throat. Someone had to have heard the screams and notified the authorities. Even in this neighborhood it was unusual to hear screams this early in the evening. How much longer would that hideous laughter coming from the insane man before him last? The sirens couldn’t be far away now, they had to come. The sickening pool of dark red blood was growing. The ropes bit into his skin as he moved side to side trying to break free of his bonds. The metallic taste of blood soaked his tongue as the red liquid dripped down his face. The police would be here in just a few more minutes, they were going to come.
The man who he had once called father stopped laughing and started toward the chair to which Johnny was tied. The man’s eyes were wild; the harsh flame of the candle light was reflected in his cold gray eyes. The knife gleamed, the scarlet blood dripping from its silver blade as the man pointed its tip menacingly at him. Tilting his head to the side the man stepped over the bodies that lay lifeless upon the floor. Blood squelched under the man's shoes as he came to within arms reach of the chair.
“Are you ready to beg for mercy?” the man asked in a cold deep voice before breaking off and laughing like a hyena. Struggling in the chair trying desperately to break loose Johnny said nothing. The blade slashed down cutting across his chest.
The wound stung but still he did not speak afraid that if he were to open his mouth he would scream. Again the blade slashed down cutting from shoulder to hip in a perfect line. Johnny struggled to not look down at his chest. He could feel his blood lurching out of his body, staining his shirt with a crimson X. Still the sirens didn’t come.
“All you have to do to get me to stop is ask.” The man’s slick voice sounded so calm that it was almost reasonable. But Johnny knew that if he asked the pain wouldn’t stop. It never did. Taking the knife the crazy man traced his own mouth then licked the blood off of his lips slowly savoring the taste. Johnny wanted to vomit.
He wanted to close his eyes and wipe away all that he had just seen, but he knew the penalty for closing his eyes. He had watched as his father had safety pinned his mother's eyes open so that she could not block out the blood, the screams, or the torturous world. He had heard her screams as the thin needles pierced her skin. He saw the blade again as it swept in a graceful arc and then he saw nothing.
It was dark as he opened his eyes to look around. The feel of soft cotton against his skin brought him back to reality. He was drenched to the bone in his own sweat his hair matted to his skull. Pushing the blankets off his chest he sat up trying to ignore the urge to vomit. He didn’t need to see the rest of the dream. He knew already what had happened. In the end the sirens had come, but not until it was too late. Sighing Johnny lay back down staring up at the dark ceiling, afraid to close his eyes.

***

[Kid]

Calexandria – Hello again. As you can see, they finally let me out of New Members. FOOLS! MWAHAHA!
So, I can only offer you my opinion. I'll keep it lite. Just know I'm only scratching the surface.

The moment Johnny's head met the soft pillows he was asleep off in the nightmares of his memory.
Tick tock…tick tock… he could hear the clock ticking loudly behind him. Each second was more agonizing than the last as he waited for the sirens to come. The harsh laughter coming from the man before him brought bile to his throat. Someone had to have heard the screams and notified the authorities. Even in this neighborhood it was unusual to hear screams this early in the evening. How much longer would that hideous laughter coming from the insane man before him last? The sirens couldn’t be far away now, they had to come.(Are the last 4 sentences inner thoughts? If not, I'd lose 'em.) The sickening pool of dark red blood was growing.(Using words like 'sickening' to hammer in a preset vibe...sucks) The ropes bit into his skin as he moved side to side trying to break free of his bonds. The metallic taste of blood soaked his tongue as the red liquid dripped down his face. The police would be here in just a few more minutes, they were going to come. (You tend to start sentences with 'The' a lot. Try to address that in your editing.)

The man who he had once called father stopped laughing and started toward the chair to which Johnny was tied.(Is this the moment a reader learns the man is johnny's father? If so, it's blah. If not, I'd replace the first 8 words with The man. You also divert to the chair. Why? The man started toward Johnny. The chair is insignificant.) The man’s eyes were wild; the harsh flame of the candle light was reflected in his cold gray eyes. The knife gleamed, the scarlet blood dripping from its silver blade as the man pointed its tip menacingly at him. Tilting his head to the side the man stepped over the bodies that lay lifeless upon the floor. Blood squelched under the man's shoes as he came to within arms reach of the chair. (Squelched? I think you need a different word. Also, came within)

“Are you ready to beg for mercy?”(flat dialog. I'd go with “Beg,” snickered the man before cleaving into Johnny's chest. Now you can delete the last two sentences in this para...if ya want.) the man asked in a cold deep voice before breaking off and laughing like a hyena.(Stop watching Lion King!LOL) Struggling in the chair trying desperately to break loose Johnny said nothing.(Rearrange) The blade slashed down cutting across his chest. (Slash and cut are the same. Don't have them next to each other. Also, he slashed down, but johnny was cut across. Gotta watch your wording.)

I wouldn't mull over the needed changes too hard. Just pick up a book on writing, you'll see it. I don't think editing will suffice. The whole scene needs a rewrite. Maybe you should focus in on the two characters. Get in their heads. How the killer reacts to the feel of his serrated blade hooking and tugging through muscle and skin. How he reacts to his victims when they stop screaming and accept their fate. What is Johnny thinking when he is cut down/across his chest.

Stein of Writing would be a good book to check out. You should give it a read.

[John Oberon]

Lotta dead wood in there. Read it cut by a third:

The moment Johnny's head met the pillow, he slept and dreamed the nightmares of his memory.

Behind him, a clock ticked, each second more agonizing than the last as he waited for the sound of sirens. The insane laughter of the man he once called father brought bile to his throat. Someone had to hear the screams and call the police. Even in this neighborhood, screams were unusual this early in the evening. How much longer would that hideous laughter last? The police couldn’t be far away now. The pool of blood grew, and the ropes bit into his skin as he tried to break free. Blood ran down his face and wetted his tongue with a metallic taste. Just a few more minutes…the police were coming.

The man stopped laughing. The candle flame reflected in his cold, gray eyes giving them a wild, devilish glow. His knife gleamed, and blood dripped from it as he pointed it menacingly at him. As he stepped over dead bodies on the floor to approach Johnny, blood squished under his shoes.

“Are you ready to beg for mercy?” the man asked in a cold, deep voice, then laughed like a hyena. Johnny struggled to break loose from the chair, but said nothing. The blade slashed across his chest.

The wound stung, but still he did not speak, afraid he might scream. Again the blade slashed from shoulder to hip, and blood stained his shirt with a crimson X. Still he heard no sirens.

“If you want me to stop, just ask,” the man crooned in a calm, almost reasonable voice. But Johnny knew asking would not stop the pain. It never did. The crazy man traced his own mouth with the knife then licked the blood off of his lips, savoring the taste.

Nausea gripped Johnny. He wanted to close his eyes and erase the horrible sights, but he knew the penalty: the man safety pinned his mother's eyes open to force her to watch the horror. She screamed as the pins pierced her skin. He saw the blade again as it swept in a graceful arc, and then he saw nothing.

He awoke in darkness, drenched with sweat, his hair matted to his skull. He pulled the blankets off and sat up, trying to ignore the nausea. He knew the end of the dream. The police came, but too late. Sighing, Johnny laid down and stared at the dark ceiling, afraid to close his eyes.