English extension creative writing

[d.tsai]

URGENT DUE TOMORROW

hi i would reallyy appreciate it if you could read over my english extension narrative. My teacher told me to ensure the setting is dreamlike and sureal but I'm not sure if i did it if so please write down recommendations of sentences i should put in. Also please tell me if i have anything that is cliche.
the question for my assignment is:
compose an imaginative response, in which you engage the audience into a literary world. In your composition pay particular  attention to developing and exploring notions of identity and a connection to place.
please tell me if i have answered the question thoroughly enough and if i am explaining the persona (Gestort) well.
Thank you.
Story starts below




Stay, stay, let me stay here just a moment longer please…..
Even now, as the early morning mist twisted and curled its way through the deracinate battlefield, the memory of Nada’s warm body still lingered. The atmosphere gave a sense of ghostly life to the pulverised corpses which spiritlessly lay littered under the velvet flesh of the forest ground. Gestört’s firm and precariously shaped nose united with the expression of his dark almost Latin eyes expressed his well-nigh romantic intelligence. Yet now his chivalrous identity was disassociated and replaced with a fragmented carcass due to the daemoniac piping of death that he had been engulfed in. All memories of the past were disorientated, only the everlasting mirage of Nada’s siren-like voice remained.

 It was only her which allowed for an escape from my crumbling psyche.
 
Not even the smell, which Gestört was now used to of gangrenous decay could stop him from following his surreal vision which led him into a milky abyss.

Distant booms of shell fire periodically pounded the countryside and the distant crack of a 98a Karabiner rifle broke the eerie silence, ceasing Gestört into a frenzy of wakeful concentration. A paroxysm of trepidation shook him as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.He had not walked this path before, even though he had visited Bavaria countless times before the war with his mütterchen. The unholy iridescence of the moon hung like an ill specter. There was no vegetation of any kind on the broad expanse, but only a fine grey void which no wind seemed ever to blow about. Vine-encumbered trees silently wove twisted branches far aloft. The shrill chorus of unnumbered whippoorwills looked down on Gestort, their sinister resignation of disquieting dead faces seemed to lurk a note of tense and evil expectancy.

How could Nada-  a woman of solitude, a wallflower, stand the  eternal scream of these endless  psychopomps?

The faint demented choirs of German bugles resounded of a narcotic whisper to the seemingly limitless legion of whippoorwills. They cried their endless chorus in repetitions timed diabolically to the wheezing of the panicked siren.

Where was Nada?  Could not all have been a pure phantasm?

Gestort  turned his head back, contemplating whether he should resume his original path or lead himself back to his doomed youth. Yet even before he could switch directions Nada’s deity like susurration propelled through the forest. Her words were almost audible, he was getting closer. He was no Orpheus, her voice could not be ignored. Gestört limped on, blood-shod and continued his delirious journey through the heaving vastness of unbroken mist. A similar surreal fog once laid outside Nada’s house. The only place where he felt accepted, affiliated. For a moment he was relinquished from his cruel reality and submerged within her sheltered, quaint cottage. She stared up at him and he saw himself reflected in her eyes, as she saw herself reflected in his.

Could she heal my dismembered mind? Could she rid me of the memory of the haunting screams of comrades when death came stumbling in desperate glory?

Gestort tolled lethargically through  the  vortice of  the dreamlike abyss, the rotting nature had become even more demented and depraved. Wiry charcoal branches were depicted as gnarled solitary figures under the transcendental orb of night. Wind provoked cries of hysteria and desperately tried to anchor itself onto him, threatening to choke him. His face was devoid of a single trace of human colour. The rhythmical screaming of the belated whippoorwills assembled near the dishevelled Gestort. Their shrill notes burst into a pandemoniac cachinnation. He lurched over and splashed his entire body’s contents onto the numbing earth- the forest was interminable.

Nada’s scream swung across the satanic branches with a distinctness that pierced and subdued all other sounds. “Do not leave me in this abyss of lurking insanity, where I cannot find you!” Gestort could hear the obscured whistle of 75 mm shells wailing through the bodies of sleepless men, yet he was no longer obliged to follow their screams.

An almost tangible fog stretched across the faded forest, shackling Gestört’s vision. His hands touched a tree, its tangled bine stems scored the sky like strings of broken lyres. A dark weary shape moved, just noticeable through the white. “Nada, is that you?” Heavy footsteps emerged closer, a miasma of trouble hung over Gestört. The silhouette of a slim figure emerged, his body encapsulated in black uniform. An American. The shadow stared aimlessly at his surroundings, realising Gestört’s presence.

Gestort took a steady aim. The rival shook his head profusely, his arms pulled a symbol of surrender.  Gestört was almost deafened with the report and his arm shivered with the recoil. The man fell forward, floating aloft the burning snow, surrounded by charcoal branches. His face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come. Gestört investigated the deceased belongings. Whisky, blankets and an injured photo frame lay lifelessly on the snow.
And there before him stood Nada, his escape, his vision…
shattered

Shadows cast by the trees rose and fell with the wind, snow pattered against her skin. An intense paroxysm of numbing thoughts infected him. Gestört slowly reached out to touch her, but only felt the impenetrable coldness of the rusty frame that held her portrait. It was her, he could not have denied it, the faded photograph was captured in front of her house yet a single whippoorwill perched anchored on a tree. . (i feel like the ending sentence needs to be improved).