I have written you a story!
Username: The_Crow
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue Bag, Please
Title: A tale from the Graveyard
Submission:
SPOILERX
“Down in the park where the chant is ‘death, death, death’ ‘till the sun cries morning…” – Gary Numan
It was a brisk fall night; the full moon loomed high overhead. There was no noise save for the melody of dead leaves being rustled about by the wind. Of course this subtlety went unheard by a girl, about 15 years of age, iPod blasting music directly into her brain. Her guardians were aware she was invited to a Karaoke birthday party for one of her best friends. They didn’t know that it was at a bar in the ‘OTHER’ side of town; across the tracks, the red light district, or simply Old Town. Her curfew having long passed, she was pacing herself by foot as the busses have even stopped running. Making good time, with only about half an hour, or six songs, to go- she was making good time.
As Serena passed by the gates of a dark, abandoned graveyard the wind picked up, the invisible fingers playing with her long blond ponytails. This caused a brief delay as she straightened her hair and… heard a scream? Earbuds coming out instantly, she did in fact hear yet another shrill scream of a child of all people, along with other voices and movement. The moonlight reflected in her determined blue eyes and she became bound and determined to find out what was happening. This trait she has is one that many lack, people without empathy and choose to ignore the suffering of others even if they are an arm’s length away.
It turned out to be very little trouble at all for her to climb and maneuver over the locked, rusty gates of the graveyard; landing on the once hallowed ground with no more than light thud. Now she moved, the only noises she heard was the rhythm of her own heartbeat and the dead leaves rhythmically crunching under her small feet as she traveled the unkempt pathways until she neared the heart of the graveyard. Something in particular stood out: that has seen many centuries, and then it didn’t take long at all for Serena to become acquainted with it, grabbing the lowest branch and managing to climb up a number of feet taller than her normal visage in order to attempt to actually get a better look around. Mere yards away her eyes met other people: A tall imposing man, a lady who could have easily been his lover, and a child a few years younger than her. This wasn’t the family picnic of The Brady Bunch she quickly realized. Her heart rate increased as she remained as silent as humanly possible to pick up most of the words of the discussion. After a couple of minutes Serena’s heart then felt a heavy as stone in her chest. The adults were vampires, and the agenda for their sick amusement for the evening was to change the boy into one of their own kind. Disbelief and panic began to fill Serena as she sat there with a horrible feeling of solitude that managed to turn all her limbs to stone. The only thing that broke her paralysis was the grim realization that she was in fact the only hope that the boy had! The gears in her mind raced, attempting to conjure a brilliant plan, but mid-sentence she was interrupted-- by a sudden invisible force strong enough to knock her from the tree sending her small body flying for yards. She ended up being invisibly pinned against the side wall of a crypt with one hell of a headache. Eventually the mental hold loosened and the shocked girl fell to the ground.
Serena was just beginning to regain her bearings which included getting back up on her feet as most cold and imposing male vampire approached she had ever laid eyes on approached. The dark Lasombra Ancient had been clearly aware of her presence the whole time, and his countenance showed no amusement or good humour. Clad in a long sleeveless black vest with a black shirt underneath. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, reaching down to the middle of his back, His silvery eyes locked onto the girl’s visibly trembling figure, their stare even more cold and heartless than the Nazis she had seen depicted in Schindler’s List. Terror poisoned every cell of her body as the vampire directed his full attention onto Serena. Using the powers which reeked of domination and control of others, lifted his arm and hand, Serena found herself being lifted by an invisible hand that closed around her neck easily held her in place levitating a bit off the ground. A booming ominous voice relentlessly resounded in her mind "YOU INTERFERED! WHAT SHALL YOUR PUNISHMENT BE?"
At this point, she was too shaken with fear to even speak. Each time she returned the vampire’s inquiry with silence, the dark one closed his hand a bit, putting even more vice-like pressure on her fragile neck and heart simultaneously. After what seemed like an eternity, Serena innocently blurted out in a childlike panic: "I'm sorry… Sir!" The vampire then gave her an order, one that would stick with her until the day of her death: "My name is Naoki... remember it!"
Meanwhile, consort of Naoki, one Willow Bloodbane had the boy within her clutches. She was the one to perform the dark ritual, her fangs pierced his neck and she drained his blood to the last drop. As he felt the life-force leaving his body, he became paralyzed in the moment of intense pleasure and pain. The vampiress then bit her own wrist, allowing her blood to flow freely. She held it over his mouth, and ordered him to drink. At first he didn’t… but as the pooling crimson drops made their way in his lifeless mouth life in fact returned to him, being shocked by how could taste the actively blood change from a metallic taste to the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. After being cut off from this new delight, he found himself filled with improved sight, senses, and motion: The pre-pubescent once known as Jake was a mere boy no longer.
Naoki then let Serena who was terrified out of her wits drop to the cold earth of the graveyard. She merely laid there in a daze for a few moments, thankful to merely be alive. Meanwhile, the new canite needed to be fed, and luckily for him there happened to be a human in close proximity! With the encouragement of both Willow and Naoki, Jake slowly approached the girl. Naoki then drew out his symbiotic swords, the Hellforge, the sharp blade reflecting the moonlight. A deep crimson glint shone over his icy silver eyes as he gazed down at her and the sword reacted in perfect synchronization. The tip to her neck, allowing her no freedom of movement without paying price of being pierced by the hungry blade.
As her ultimate plea for help, Serena held out her hand to Jake and in pure desperation she simply told him "I'm sorry." She continued in her head “I wanted to save you.” He took her right hand and said as Serena felt something wrap around her arm to brace it, "I'm sorry, too." This the reply from eyes that still knew empathy but a voice and a lust for blood that did not. As quick as a snake, he sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her hand. The sensation of having her very own vitae drained from her was too much for her senses to handle and she fainted. Jake didn't drain her to the point of death, though, as some hint of appreciation for what she had tried to do. Naoki then pressed his palm to Serena's forehead, forcing her to wake up and face the grim reality with a start. The young vampire proceeded to lick the wounds on her hand so there was no physical scar, but the internal ones will pain her until the day of her death.
The vampires were soon distracted by a holy Belmont's presence in the graveyard. The fun of the new ‘game’ distracted them just long enough to allow Serena a chance to escape into the night, albeit scarred forever.
Final notes:
__________________
They/them pronouns are greatly appreciated!
Last edited by The_Crow; 11-06-2010 at 07:49 AM..
Reason: Changed Participation Prize
I have written you a story!
Username: Linnea
Preferred Participation Prize: yellow, please!
Title: The Guardian
Submission:
SPOILERX
“’Can you hear me now?’ my ass,” grumbled Frankie as she paced back and forth with her cell phone raised high.
“Simmer down, Frankie. Sheesh, this is a little more than we bargained for, but seriously, were on an island. Relax, mon!” Shaz chuckled at her own joke.
“You want me to simmer down?” Frankie pointed at Shaz, “It’s all your damn fault we’re here! If you hadn’t dragged me along on this ridiculous trip with these two goons, I’d be—“
“Why don’t you ladies just give it a rest.” Nick had finally had enough of Frankie and Shaz bickering back and forth for what seemed like hours. His friend Ash was sitting on the beach looking out at the ocean. Ella, who was the roommate of Shaz and Frankie, was perched on a rock with her feet in the water.
“You should just shut your face, you pretentious rich boy. If you didn’t have such a jonesin’ for Shaz you wouldn’t have invited her along on that stupid boat of your fancy daddy’s and then I wouldn’t have been dragged along, you CRETIN!” Frankie’s tirade left the group in silence.
Nick waved his hand and plopped down next to Ash. He generally liked all women, and they usually liked him back, but this one was insufferable. After a few seconds, Frankie started away from the group.
Ella looked up. “Where are you going, Frankie?”
“To find cell service. It’s our only hope for getting out of this hell hole.”
“Be careful. We don’t know what’s out there and it’s getting dark.”
Frankie sighed, “I’ll be back soon,” and walked away.
Ella was worried about Frankie. As different as she and her roommates were, she cared about them like sisters. Shaz had found Frankie and Ella through a roommate finder service. Shaz was a waitress and couldn’t afford her place when her roomies bailed. Frankie had just broken up with her fiancé and needed a place quickly, and Ella had just gotten her masters and needed a place close to her job at the library.
Ella didn’t know Nick and Ash that well. Nick hung out at the bar where Shaz worked. It was clear to everyone but Shaz, that Nick liked her, so they all hung out together often. Nick and Ash met in college and had been roomies and best buds ever since. Ash worked at a motorcycle shop and was the brooding, quiet loner. Nick worked at his father’s company and was a smooth talker who reveled in the center of attention. Ash liked the color black, tattoos and piercings, where Nick looked like a clean cut frat boy right out of a movie, loafers and everything. A real odd couple in Ella’s opinion.
“Dudes, I am so huuuuungry,” Nick rolled onto his side holding his stomach in an overly dramatic fashion.
“You do realize we haven’t even been here 12 hours, right?” Ash cocked one eyebrow as he watched Nick rolling back and forth.
Choosing to ignore the common sense of his friend, Nick glanced over to Shaz, “Hey, let’s go find some grub!”
“Sure, but I don’t know what we can eat out here,” Shaz said wearily.
“And neither do I!” said Nick proudly as he held out his arm for Shaz to take and walked towards the woods.
Ash and Ella looked and each other then turned to the sea once more.
A short while later Shaz and Nick finally returned to the makeshift camp. “I told Nick I wasn’t going to eat bugs, so we found these.” Shaz held out the berries she’d picked in both hands. The group ate the berries but left a small pile for Frankie when she returned. Ella had made a fire after the food arrived and the four sat around chatting until they fell asleep.
~~~
The next morning Ella rolled over to where Shaz had fallen asleep, but she was gone. Ella sat up quickly and saw only Nick and Ash.
“Nick! Ash! Wake up! Where did Shaz go? And Frankie never came back last night!”
Nick yawned and sat up, looked around the area. “Shaz probably had to pee or something, and Frankie was really mad yesterday. She’s probably still pissed. She’ll come back.”
Ella still felt something was wrong. “Nick, I’m not so sure. I’d feel better if we looked around.”
“Fine. I’ll go with you. Ash can stay here in case they come back.”
Ella and Nick traipsed through the woods and called out the girls’ names every few minutes. As the sun got higher, they spoke less.
“Nick, I have to pee.” Ella admitted. She had been holding it for a while not knowing the right protocol for such an action around a male she didn’t know very well, but she really had to go.
“Oh, ok, sure, I’ll wait.”
“No no, you don’t have to wait. Just walk ahead a little bit and I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Nick shrugged; he didn’t have the energy to argue, and continued the search.
Ella finished her business and ran in Nick’s direction. She finally heard him up ahead and almost called out, when her voice caught in her throat. Someone was dragging him, and fast. Before both disappeared into the shadows, she saw Nick’s face, and it was covered in blood. Ella turned tail and ran back the way they came.
She ran and tripped the whole way back to camp. When she arrived she was so out of breath she could hardly speak.
“What happened? Where’s Nick?” Ash asked as he looked around frantically.
Holding up one finger, Ella gulped in a huge breath of air, then told him what she saw. “… and he was bleeding so bad. I don’t know if he was dead. It happened so quick!”
Both stayed kneeling towards each other while Ash absorbed the details. Nick was hurt. Shaz and Frankie were missing, probably hurt as well. Something was out there and he and Ella were next.
“Ok, here is what we are going to do. There is some daylight left and we can’t stay here, ‘cause whatever it is knows where we are.”
Ella only nodded as Ash pulled her up off the sand.
~~~
The sun had almost completely set and without saying a word, Ash and Ella sat down against a large tree to rest for a while. Ella was so sleepy she could hardly keep her eyes open, but the thought of something out there hunting them down kept her brain on high alert. Ella moved closer to Ash.
“Ash, I think we should rest back to back. That way if something happens to one of us the other will wake up.”
“I like that idea.” Both turned around to lean on each other and spent the rest of the night dozing off in short naps, filled with dreams of blood and death.
Just as the sun started to come up again Ella and Ash both jerked awake to the sound of shuffling. Neither one moved unsure if it was a dream. Back in the direction of the camp, three figures plodded towards them. Ella stood to get a closer look, and then stepped back when she saw who it was.
It was Frankie, Shaz, and Nick… only not. Their clothes were tattered and blood stained and their skin so pale. Frankie’s ear dangled by a lobe, Shaz had a gaping hole where her eyes should have been, and Nick was missing half his skull.
Ash and Ella scrambled away from their undead friends only to trip over a pile of rocks. They heard a soft rustle and turned around. A woman was standing in an old captain’s hat and what was once a fancy dress. A dirty eye patch covered one eye and tarnished gold bangles laid around her wrists and neck. Her skin was almost translucent.
Before anyone could say or do anything, Ella and Ash both felt something wrap around their arms. It was the woman’s boney fingers. Without words the woman showed them what happened to her so many years ago.
~~~
A shipwreck had left the pirate queen and her men stranded on this island. She had lived a grand life on the sea and her men loved her, but the island was barren and soon they began to get sick and hungry. Many men died, but still the pirate queen stayed strong, always searching for a way off the island. After the crew had died, she no longer felt the need to survive. She laid down and waited for death, next to the rocky graves of her men. Not long after she passed, a witch doctor appeared before her body. He sprinkled some glittery powder and a liquid and then she began to rise. The pirate queen was so hungry! She just had to eat. She could smell the decaying bodies under the shallow graves. On her hands and knees she began to dig and feast on the rotting flesh of her fallen comrades. The ones she ate off of also began to stir and rise and they ate the flesh of the ones who were still in the ground. They gorged until there were only a few undead left. The witch doctor conveyed to the pirate queen that she would be his guardian until he passed on to his next life, and so she did until he died. When he finally moved on, all her undead crew dropped to the ground and again she was alone, but now she was free; only as free as one could be on an island. No one had come to this island since the pirate queen’s crew and she was cursed to live there until someone else came along to replace her; it was the curse of the witch doctor’s magic.
~~~
The pirate queen let go of Ash and Ella, and they stood there as if in a trance for only a few seconds, when the pirate queen quickly stole a bite off Ash’s arm.
“Oh my god, she bit me!” Ash brought his arm to his chest as he tried to slug her with his other hand. She evaded and bit a chunk out of his back. He howled in pain and crumpled to the ground.
Ella tried to hit her but the pirate queen was too fast. She flashed before Ash once more, grabbed his head, and snapped his neck. Before Ella could even register that Ash was dead, he began to stir. Ella could only look in horror as his body moved in short spasms until he was standing again with his head unnaturally twisted too far and off to the side. Beyond Ash, Ella could see three shadows lurking around the grave site. Distracted for a mere second by her undead friends, Ella wasn’t prepared for Ash’s hands as they grabbed her neck. Gasping, she tried to claw her way free, but Ash was strong and the world started to get darker and darker. The last thing she saw in this life was the crooked smile of the pirate queen.
~~~
The pirate queen laughed as she saw the life flicker out of the girl’s eyes, and then to see her friends feasting on her entrails like she and her men had done to each other. It had taken far too long to find a replacement guardian.
~~~
Ella began to rise while her friends were still ripping her insides out, and only when the pirate queen faded away forever did her friends collapse to the ground in soundless heaps. Ella did her best to move to the closest body were she sank her teeth into the juicy calf of her former roommate.
Final notes: i was inspired by a pirate queen zombie i made for an avatar contest... i don't really know how to talk like a pirate, so i wasn't going to try doing something set back in the day... so... this is just... yea... many many years later... enjoy!
I have written you a story!
Username: Chunsa-chan
Preferred Participation Prize: Any is fine
Title: Heaven is a place on earth.
Submission:
SPOILERX
"Heave!"
Muscles bunched, tendons strained.
"Heave!"
His chest tightened, straining to pull in oxygen that would never reach his lungs.
"HEAVE!"
He felt something wrap around his arm, and with a dismissive glance grabbed the rope that refused to stay on it's bearing. He thrusted a fist forward and knotted the last of the rope required for the Aft sail to properly gain wind.
"Alright men, t' ship be ready t' sail, off to work you lot."
He grinned at the captain, the scruffiest of the bunch, and waltzed over.
"Cap'n, your leg shines with t' brightest of polish. I daresay it took us longer t'an usual to mind t' sails with your leg shining into t' few eyes we have left!"
"Shut your mouth ye' scallywag, and walk with me."
The Captain and first Mate walked towards bow of the Brigantine, a two hundred ton beauty they had maintained for almost a thousand years. First Mate leaned over the side, partly laying his weight against a cannon, and smiled down at the sight that would have never failed to take his breath away. If he could breath.
"How be you feelin' today Mic'hal?"
"I be feelin' t' same I always do." He grinned down at the cirrocumulus clouds that swirled below them. Their wave like appearance was comforting to a pirate of old, with a mind more weathered and worn than the perpetually strong body that housed it. "T' view be great but i cant help but think..."
"Aye lad. I know how ye' be feeln'. I be missn' me angel of a wife. I keep hoping that we be sailing these white waves, we would stumble upon heaven, but alas! But me bones... they be telling me secrets." The Captain turned his thoughts inwards before turning to the man beside him. "We tried to hard to find heaven while alive, lad. But our penance may soon be up... My bones, my bones, they be saying to moor down with the landlubbers. To walk on the soil and feel as man does, one last time. To forget of otherworldly things for a day. A day of the dead."
Micheal turned to his captain sharply. "Cap'n, you don't be suggestin'?!"
But the Captain turned away, leaving only a soft rhythmic thunk behind.
~
A day of sailing was done and the vessel floated above the world high in the ionosphere, with only a blurry canopy of stars above them. The crew lay about the ship talking, knotting ropes, eating. In the beginning there had been deck parties every night with racious music and raunchy jokes flying every which way. But with the wenches low, and the rum never-changing, the allure of such events shrunk until it only became an occasional thing.
It wasn't so bad though. The barrels would stay full of their dark liquids, the crates never empty of their fresh food. The women on board stayed beautiful, and the men youthful (though the limbs lost and wounds gained while they were alive never did heal themselves). But it was always the same, and for a crew that had once been such a lively bunch always moving off in their massive swift boat to new sights and new undiscovered lands, having something 'always the same' became boring.
Micheal lay strewn atop a pile of ropes, a mug cupped between his eternally calloused fingers. What was the Captain thinking? To go to the land below the puffy white sea, below the purgatory they had sailed for so long? Oh, they had tried before, dipping below and watched as the world lit up with specks of light flickering on, giving the crew on-board the surreal feeling of stars on both sides. But they had never been able to land.
They had tried many a time, doing nothing more than spooking the locals below. One such event occurred over a dessert area, scaring what appeared to be a farmer and his cattle. Another time they were followed by a massive rumbling sky creature that flew beside their Brigantine, a little man inside gesturing inside for them to come down. They could skim across the tall man-made creations all over the world, go through largest mountains in the far and middle east, but the earth itself repealed them back to the skies.
But the crew would do as the Captain wished, should he ask for another attempt to see the world below.
"The Cap'tin be crazy..." "Too long he been floating in the clouds!" "Oh but to see the world again..." "Would we be able to pass on if we do as the Cap'ns crazy bones say we should?"
Micheal nodded along with the mens words, taking a long pull from his beverage. His thoughts ran along similar lines of excitement, disbelief, and tentative hope. According to 'The Bones' they would attempt to sail down in the morning, and enjoy the earth below. He knew the men wouldn't be able to sleep, and it wasn't as if their corporeal bodies need much rest.
What would they find in this world that they had only seen pieces of?
They would find out in only a few more hours...
~
Same as the day before, the men could be found at their stations pulling the fore and aft sails taught and ready for a day sailing, arms straining on each pull, legs locked against any resistance that may pull them forward. But the air was different, buzzed. It was filled with an electricity that sparked change, along with a thought on everyone's mind... What is this was the last time?
The cannons were anchored to thier places, guns aligned, the deck swabbed, the men groomed to the best way they knew how with dreads and stringy hair greased back, and buttons in the holes they rightfully belonged in. Even the few maidens the ship carried were on deck, bustles and bows in all the right places.
"Steady men! Steady! She be fightin' now! Hold fast!" From there began a ride none of them would forget. They pulled at the sails angling them so the ship dived at a steep angle. "STEADY!" But the wind this day was unforgiving, making the unachored women shriek as they were pushed against a wooden wall behind them. One of the sailors snagged one that went flying past, who giggled and laughed after the initial terror wore off.
A man in front of Micheal was whipped of his feet by a rope he had kept too slack, and went spinning about the forward mast with a howl.
And on it went, a never ending pull at the ropes and pulleys, until finally they reached land below. "Thar be land!" was yelled from the nest above, along with great heave as the boat bucked and rolled in the wind.
"Almos' thar men!" The Cap'ns voice shouted with a crazed glee. "Pull! She be close at hand!"
Over the rumbling of wind crashing through their ears they could hear the startled shouts below. What happened next was a blur sight and sound, as building rose around the ship, surrounded by the noises of the creations below and the humans they belongs to, and the squawks and howls of terrified animals as they cleared the area. And with a final hearty rumbling the ship crashed.
They pulled wooden walkboard out from where they stored it, rickety from disuse, and shoved it below to the murmuring crowd that stood gaping. On deck one of the lovelier wenches came up to the captain and took his arm with the other ladies following suit, until a ragtag assortment of couples stood in line, waiting to disembark.
Micheal stood behind, last to set foot on the soil. Yet as he did, bare toes curled upon the dirt and grass, and a deep soul shaking gasp entered him. He could breath! The once ghostly bunch were murmuring to themselves in wonder when the people on the land got their wits about them and started hammering them with questions.
"Who are you? What are you? Where did you come from? Did you really just come from the sky?" Along with a flash and a noise that quickly became annoying.
It was then that the crew noticed something odder than themselves, being a cloud-faring crew to moor onto land. The people were dressed quite oddly, with flamboyant colors and appendages shimmering and hanging about that should not belong on a human. Ghouls and goblins, creatures he remembered from old sleepytime stories; but he couldn't identify the shaply barely clothed creatures that may have been women, or even the man with his underwear out where everyone could see.
One of the smaller oddly dressed people stepped forward and with a guffaw Micheal realized that this child was dressed as a gaudy version of a pirate! With a bright red bandanna on his head, eye patch, and a marking of somesort that looked like a beard, he looked like some caricature the royal navy would dream up of his kind.
"Arrrr, ye' be real pirates!" the lad crowed, lifting a plastic sword above his head. Micheal went to his captain, slapping his shoulder, and giving the little runt a grin.
"That we be lad, that we be. Now show us how to enjoy a day as good as this, as if we were to have a day of heaven on earth!"
Final notes: ARRRRRR!
__________________
You'll have a drink, I'll raise my glass, here's to just another night.
"..when your eyes meet mine.."[/COLOR][/B]
I have written you a story!
Username: JeSsIcAtMeOwW
Preferred Participation Prize: The green one!! :D
Title: Fail.
Submission:
SPOILERX
I walked about to the door, palms so sweaty they're be wet before I was even finished wiping them on my shirt. 'This is the one,' I thought. I'd been up and down this block all night, and I had yet to accomplish my task.
Telling a good Halloween Joke.
It may sound silly, but it's extremely difficult! People don't seem to understand the thought and logic that goes into thinking up that clever punchline that appears to tickle an uproar of laughter out of someone's diaphragm. I'd spent weeks earlier researching and hunting for clues that could help me discover the greatest Halloween Joke ever! I took surveys, read articles, and interviewed comedians. I linked puns with riddles. Slapstick with wit. I tested anything and everything I came up with on my family and friends. I was ready for this day.
And I couldn't even get a chuckle.
Twenty three houses. I've been skimping around for forty five minutes now, and all I've gotten was a box of raisins, because an old lady felt pity for me!
You see, there are only two true ways of getting Halloween candy in this town. Your joke or your costume. I was so ready this year, that I refused to wear a costume because I wanted to know that people were giving me their beloved chocolate and sugar based of off my amazing joke.
My goodie bag currently contains a little box of raisins from some old lady that says it’s supposed to “help with constipation.” This is a nightmare.
I hesitantly started walking towards the front porch. ‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘I’m gonna get some candy!’ Sure, it wasn’t always about the candy. But I’m a kid who needs to humor his sugar tooth every once in awhile.
I placed one foot on the porch, my confidence beginning to dwindle. I’ve been to so many houses hence far…what would make this one different?! I couldn’t get a single person to like my joke, why should I keep on trying?!
Last house, last chance. I’m going big or going home. My finger inched towards the doorbell, slowly and painfully. ‘Ding dong ditching is fun, too,’ I thought, ‘I could always resort to that.’
Nonono! This was it, I was going to do this, no matter what!
“OOOOooooOOooOOoOoh!” AHHHHH! What in the world was that?! Oh my gosh, that was the doorbell! They have a doorbell that howls like a ghost…creepy.
“Whos goes there?” I heard from the other side of the door.
“Umm, Timmy?” I responded, unsure of what to do next. I had to focus, though, this all depended on my joke!
“Come in,” the voice continued.
Woah now. I don’t know about other kids around here, but my mom said she’d rather I get picked up by a tornado and die than go into a stranger’s home, especially on Halloween night!
“Sorry…it’s too nice outside right now, I’d rather enjoy it. You should feel this breeze, it’s lovely!” I replied, wondering if I should just bolt from the porch right now and go hide under my covers.
“That’s a shame,” the shaking voice continued, “do you have a joke?”
“Yes, yes. What happened to the bear…um,” I racked my brain for the rest of the joke, I couldn’t believe I was forgetting it, “that…uh…that fell into the lake!!”
No response. Oh my, oh no. I knew I should’ve picked a different joke. Now he’s not even going to respond, and I’m going to look like an idiot just standing out here!
“Umm, Sir?” I hesitantly began to knock on the door—when I felt something wrap around my arm! WHAT IN THE WORLD! WHAT IS GOING ON?!
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I screeched, “HELP! HELP ME, SOMEBODY!” The slimy tentacle like thing started pulling my down, and I was dragged across the porch floor. If only I had dressed up like a pirate right now! I could take my sword and cut it off, why wasn’t I a pirate?!
No one heard me, no one was helping! How in the world is this HAPPENING TO ME?!
I didn’t even get to finish my joke.
Final notes: Well, no final notes, I think you get the gist of it. Just a teeny, tiny short story. :) Happy Halloween, everybody!
I have written you a story!
Username: Rylynne
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange
Title: Recidivism
Submission:
recidivism: a tendency to relapse into a previous condition or mode of behaviorX
“The thing is,” she tells the doctor for the seventh time, “everyone needs a coping mechanism to get by. Others drink, others cut, and others get high. Me? I smoke. Deal with it.”
The doctor fights back. Smoking will be the end of you, he says, just you wait. He spouts clichés about wasting life away, about dying way too young and becoming a shell of your former glory.
Kay heeds no mind to his warnings. She calmly leaves his office, takes out a cig, and lights the tip. The smoke piles upward, a steady stream of cloudy white.
She thinks she sees a figure forming. It’s not the first time. First a head, then a nose, then a mouth. The lips are moving; it’s saying-
Oops. She dropped the cigarette.
---
The first time Kay began to smoke, she felt something wrap around her arm. She had screamed, and her beau at the time had to keep her close for days to stop the shaking.
“Maybe it was a bug?” he offered, but she knew it wasn’t. The touch was fleeting, as if ice could blow a kiss in her direction.
The second time wasn’t so bad. The touch was longer and more gentle. It was still cold, but she didn’t flinch.
Another puff, another touch. Later on, she grew to welcome the constant chill down her spine at every stroke.
---
“You stopped once,” says the doctor, “why did you go back?”
Kay callously plays with her lighter as she speaks. “It got too cold.” She pauses. “And then one summer night a year later, my air conditioning broke down and I needed something cool.”
She wonders if the dead would object to their use akin to a popsicle or an electric fan.
---
Books on ghosts and the paranormal never seem to explain her situation properly. There are chapters on exorcisms and even directions to the nearest sighting of ghost ships.
Psychology doesn’t have the answer either – or does it? Kay doesn’t dwell on the details too much.
---
Kay relives the day her mother died over and over again in her head. She cringes at every yellow school bus and every drunken driver. Once, she mouthed off at a cabbie who narrowly avoided an accident.
She used to wish someone as sensible as her was with the driver that day. Nowadays, she cringes at the thought of a woman with thinning fingers and deeply shaded eyes inside that bus. The woman would have probably looked away without a care.
---
“You’re delusional. Smoking won’t bring you closer to the dead. That cold chill isn’t your mother.”
The doctor says it in such a crude manner. His tone is dangerously low, but the people at the park seem to notice anyway and can’t help but stare.
Kay scoffs at him and lights another cigarette. “That’s no way for a doctor to behave.”
“Don’t mock me. You know I’m right.” He places a hand on her knee. “Look, I’m only trying to help.”
“Look,” she tells him, “I like you, I think. But not enough to let you think you can dictate what I can and cannot do.”
The doctor sighs, his shoulder slumped in defeated disbelief. But, by the way his lips are curved just a little upward Kay knows that she’s said too much. She only hopes her mother would approve.
---
People used to say that she was a haunted individual. The strong frigid breeze that blew out their school’s annual bonfire in the middle of summer said as much. Others reported seeing a hazy figure beside her a couple of times.
Kay ignores the gossip. For every rumor spoken, she lights a pack of cigarettes. Sometimes two or three packs at once. The smoke around her thickens, and during those times the face that forms is more detailed, more human.
---
Kay stops smoking to prove a point to the doctor. She dares not answer why she’s suddenly trying so hard to impress him.
On the night of the fifteenth day of the third month of her abstinence, Kay was sure her mother was standing right in front of her. She was all flesh and bones; no cigarette smoke could fake the real thing.
Her mother laughed at her for thinking she was a ghost. She only stopped laughing when Kay flinched at her icy touch. Kay began to cry, the first time in a long time, and her mother disappeared amongst the tears.
---
Kay breaks up with the doctor right after. She moves away to a tropical country, where one can never be too cold.
Cigarettes never tasted so sweet, she thinks. She savors her increasing shortness of breath.
Ten years pass by in quiet solitude. Sometime after that, Kay sees the doctor’s eyes forming from the smoke. His lips, thinner and no longer desirable, mouth the same arguments from way back when.
She never cared then, she still won’t care now. But somehow, she can’t bring herself to throw it away.
---
“You think I like smoking? Nowadays I think it’s a curse.”
Kay repeats the same ideas to the doctor when he shows his face instead of her mother. They take turns appearing in the smoke, but he seems to be the more stubborn of the two.
“Tell me, what does my mother say? Does she think she died too early? Does she think her death was unfair?”
The doctor tells her that there is a time for everything. Kay can only sigh, her shoulders slumped in defeated disbelief.
---
Love hurts, Kay one day decides. First her mother, then the doctor. Even now she can’t bring herself to refer to him by name.
On the anniversary of the doctor’s death, Kay decides she’s had enough. No amount of makeup can brighten up her pale loose skin or cover up her bloodshot eyes.
She wonders if this is what a revelation should feel like. The sordid taste of bittersweet realization leaves her lost. In the darkness of her small one bedroom apartment, the reality she has to face outside seems all the more daunting.
The last traces of smoke from her last cigarette form into her mother’s face. Her eyes, an empty stark white, beckon her closer. Let mother hold you, she mouths, come closer my dear.
Kay takes a long puff – for her mother’s sake, she reasons. One pack later, Kay finds she no longer can use the same excuse.
From the newly emitted smoke, the doctor appears. His own eyes plead the same as her mother’s. He whispers sweet nothings to her ears, but his chilling touch is not as comforting as she remembered it to be.
Kay has had enough. “This coming from the man who said I’m wasting my life away.”
She dumps the pack of cigarettes on the floor and steps on them. Her bare feet are dirty from the coarse black powder, but she hardly notices.
Kay takes the cigarette with her mother’s eyes and the doctor’s touch in her hand. She whispers her goodbyes – ghosts are always in need of closure, says a book she read once – and throws it out the window.
Kay watches the cig pummel down to the cemented sidewalk. A man and his lover pass by seconds later and stomps on their faces. The cheap neon signs above her building emit a faint ring of light on their dearly departed souls. Kay pretends to ignore the cries at the back of her head.
Rest in peace, she thinks, her shoulders no longer slumped and her cheeks a little pinker. A deep breath later, Kay breaks out laughing in relief.
---
“Hello, my name is Kay, and I’m a recovering smoker.”
Her companions respond with sincere hellos and welcoming smiles. It hits her that she hasn’t had people smile like that at her since… ever, really. She later vows to make sure the moment lasts.
Final notes: Inspired by the idea that the scariest monsters and ghosts in life aren't the ones that are out for your blood.
I'm almost done with my story, and vaguely concerned that the event will end before I finish it. XD I'm like, "Must not edit. Contest will close while I'm editing."
I have written you a story!
Username: Cami
Preferred Participation Prize: Yellow
Title: The Boy in the Mirror
Submission:
SPOILERX
I never feared the boy in the mirror. That would be like fearing air or earth. How could you fear something that was always there?
I wished him a good morning before brushing my teeth, spoke to him as he followed me from mirror to mirror throughout the day, and felt protected when he watched over me at night. I used him as many little girls use a diary—he was my confidant, my secret-keeper, my best friend that didn’t speak. I cried to him when Julie stole my doll, gushed to him about the boy I chased squirrels with in the park, and complained to him about homework. It was a fulfilling, if one-sided, relationship until one day when I came home and the mirrors were gone.
“Where are the mirrors?” I asked my mother. She stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I could tell she was trying to look nonchalant, an attempt that would have been more successful if I’d ever once seen her cooking before.
“Mirrors just encourage vanity,” she replied. “We don’t need to look at ourselves.” Or each other, apparently. Her eyes stayed on the vegetables as she spoke.
“But how am I supposed to brush my hair?” I pushed. “Or my teeth?”
“Do you really need a mirror to find your hair and teeth?”
“Just one,” I said. “One in the bathroom.”
“No.”
“But mom…”
“Don’t you want to be normal, Madeline?” She looked at me then, the knife quivering in her hand. “Haven’t you ever wanted to be normal?”
“I am normal.”
“Talking to imaginary people in mirrors is not normal.”
“He’s not imaginary!” I yelled.
“Of course he is.”
“If he’s imaginary, then why do you always put on your makeup while sitting on your bed? Or never get dressed near a mirror? Or brush your teeth over the kitchen sink? You don’t need to be scared of him, Mom; he’s…”
“Go to your room.” Her voice was calm, but I could tell she was barely resisting yelling.
“But…”
“Go.”
I stomped upstairs and slumped onto my bed. My lamp reflected off the dark window, and I saw him sitting next to me, barely visible in the transparent reflection. I touched it, my finger caressing the cold glass image of his cheek. “I’ll get you a new mirror,” I said. “I promise.”
My mom drove me to school like normal the next day, but we didn’t talk. When we pulled up next to the school, my mom touched my hand. “It’s for the best, Madeline.”
“Yeah, Mom,” I said before getting out. I waited until the car was out of sight, then I began walking home. The nearest store was too far for me to ride my bike on my own, but I knew that our neighbors must have mirrors.
I circled the house next door several times, making sure that no one was home, before throwing a rock at a low window. I quickly hid in case anyone came running. When it seemed safe, I snuck up to the window and used a stick to push out the rest of the broken glass.
I crawled through the window and crept through the house. I’d never been in someone else’s house when nobody was there. The house felt dead and unwelcoming. I moved as fast as I could, quickly finding the master bedroom in the same location as in our house.
I carefully pushed open the door and let out my held breath when I saw that no one was there. Across the room, I could see a full length mirror hanging off the closet door. “Yes!” I hissed, running to it. There he was, watching me as I tried to figure out how to get the mirror off the door. “I told you,” I whispered. “I promised.”
I could barely lift the mirror, and nearly fell beneath its weight as it disconnected from the door. I hugged it close, arms not quite wrapping all the way around it, and ran all the way back to my bedroom, only slowing down when I needed to pull the mirror through the window and unlock the front door to my house.
“See, see, you’re here,” I said, placing the mirror behind my closet door. “You’re safe. You just have to stay back here so mom doesn’t see you.”
I talked to him all day, filling him in on the twenty-six hours he’d missed. When I heard my mom arrive home, I fully opened the closet door so that the mirror was hidden behind it.
That night, when my mom came in to kiss me goodnight, she said, “It’s not so bad without the mirrors, is it?”
“No, Mom.”
She smiled and started to respond, but the closet door creaked partially closed then, moving on its own as if caught by a gust of wind. My mom turned to look, and light from the hallway reflected off of the mirror, making it clearly visible in the dark room.
“What is that doing here?” Her hand grasped for something and caught hold of my bedside lamp.
“Mom, you don’t understand, he’s my friend.”
“You…” She looked at me wildly, then shook her head. “No, he. He did this.” She moved away from the bed and I clambered after her.
“Why can’t you leave us alone?” My mom yelled at the mirror, holding the lamp above her head. “I’m sorry you died! I’m sorry! But it was twenty years ago! Why can’t you just leave my family alone?”
He watched silently as she yelled, and didn’t move when she swung the lamp.
“Wait, mom!” I jumped forward trying to stop her, but the mirror shattered from the lamp’s force, pieces flying out of the frame. She continued to beat it, striking the empty frame over and over again as she yelled. I wanted to stop her, but I felt weak. I slipped silently to the ground behind her.
As I lay there, I felt something wrap up my arm. “Boy?” I asked. It felt as if all of my warmth were pooling in that spot. I shivered and weakly reached for it with my other hand. He had come out of the mirror to help me. He had always been there for me, and now he’d pushed through the boundaries that separated us to help me. But my hand didn’t find him; it only found a warm liquid that soaked my sleeve. Blood.
I felt the pain then. A shard of the mirror was sticking from my chest. I gripped it and pulled, gasping as it came loose. Turning it, I looked at him in the reflection. “Boy?” I repeated. He watched me as always, his expression forever the same. It was the same expression he had when Julie stole from me, when I had my first crush, when I was stumped by homework and when I brought home an A+. And his expression never changed as he watched me die.
Final notes: I've always thought there was someone watching me in the mirror.
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Watch my NaNoWriMo vlog! You'll regret it if you don't. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, and for the rest of your life.
In the beginning, there was me. And Order. Ruined. Everything.
wow and here i thought it wouldn't be that popular... hard to believe there is almost thirty pages of stories here... makes me wonder if they could be made into a book of short stories... that would be cool
