OK, so honest question. I'm writing a story for EndMaster's contest, where I'm writing a story about some spoiled politician's kid who basically goes off the deep end when his plans to get his own notoriety aren't going the way he wants, so he starts freaking out and lashing out at everything he can get his hands on.
I read EndMaster's (Im)Mature Guide to Story Writing, so I assume my story is within site rules. While there's several times the protagonist does... questionable shit, there's never any detailed description of it, and there is an overarching story of how our protagonist is slowly losing his shit and getting more controlling and aggressive, in order to explain how he ends up being able to carry out the whole 'terrorist attack' he has planned.
I figured "The Head Cheerleader won't go to prom with me and her jock boyfriend beat me up" trope was tired and fucked, and wanted to try something different. But I'm going to post a small portion of my story here, and if there's something wrong with it rules wise, PLEASE let me know before I put months of effort into a story that's gonna get deleted.
Beginning of exercpt:
You scream wordlessly and begin to stomp down on her throat. Fuck this bitch. You keep stomping long after you hear a loud cracking sound, then put your pants back on and storm upstairs to grab a rifle. Fuck that white supremacist group. You want to cause damage NOW. You're gonna kill the neighbors!
You proceed to do just that, firing at them from the safety of your window... with a single round that goes wide, cause you never learned how to use this thing! Why the fuck couldn't you have just been patient, and learned how to fire a fucking gun BEFORE attempting to use it?! Now you have a dislocated shoulder blade, and you're definitely not gonna be able to fire any more guns.
Still shrieking and crying, you run to the kitchen and grab a kitchen knife with your good arm, then run outside to begin your slaughter. Normally, you wouldn't be able to cope with this much pain, but adrenaline is on your side. The neighbors, however, while living far enough down the street to not hear the yelling coming from your house (brick walls are pretty thick) definitely heard the gunshot, and all of them have gone inside!
One of them left their cockapoo chained outside in a rush to get his kids inside the house, however, and you descend upon the poor creature and begin to hack it apart while the family watches you in horror from the window. After a few slashes, however, you begin to get a hard-on remembering how you killed the maid, and you decide it'd be a shame to let these new holes you made go to waste...
Your depraved acts in broad daylight don't last for long, as the police arrive in a couple short minutes (this IS a nice neighborhood after all) and draw on you after taking one quick glance upon seeing what the fuck it is you're doing, yelling "FREEZE!" You have no words for these peons, and brandish your knife while screaming at them to fuck off. You fully expect them not to shoot, and to get back in their cars and leave.
But they don't. They clearly don't know who your Father is (or more likely don't care and rightfully believe you need to be put down like the poor dog laying at your feet) and they each put a round in your chest.
End of exercpt.
