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Lise
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#1
Old 10-27-2010, 03:24 AM


Art by Torikat, banner by Ferra

Greetings, Menewshans...
You may remember the writing competition I held during the Shipwreck Ball. I did not expect to receive very many quality submissions, but I was quite impressed with works of fiction that my fellow Menewshans wrote for me... So impressed, in fact, that I'd like to challenge you Menewshans to again weave a tale for me. This time you have a larger word limit to work within as well as a different premise and phrase to include. This task may be tricky, but I promise a treat for the best submissions...

Last edited by Lise; 10-29-2010 at 01:19 AM..

Lise
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Lise is offline
 
#2
Old 10-27-2010, 03:25 AM

Rules:
  • All stories must be inside a "spoiler" bar. ([hide]Your story here[/hide])
  • All submissions must use the provided form.
  • Your entry must be written for this contest. You may not "recycle" an old story.
  • You may not submit someone else's work. This is plagiarism and is strictly against Menewsha's rules.
  • Your submission may not be longer than 2,000 words. (You can check your word count here)
  • Your entry must be about or include one or more of the following: A haunting, trick or treating, a curse, and/or a ghost ship.
  • Your entry must include the phrase "I felt something wrap around my arm" You may substitute "I" with the pronoun or name of your choice, and may likewise replace "my" with a more appropriate word (Ex: "Mercutio felt something wrap around his arm"). Your story will not be accepted if you do not use this sentence.
  • You may only submit one story.
  • You may submit on either your main account or your mule account, but you may not submit on both.
  • Do not give critiques on other people's works unless they have asked for it. If you wish to post your story for feedback before officially submitting it, please do so in quote tags.

Guidelines:
  • Do your absolute best to write correctly. This means that you should use proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation. I will not ignore your entry if there is a misplaced comma, but a submission riddled with distracting errors is very unlikely to win.
  • Be creative. The more interesting your story is, the more likely it is to win. Cliched characters or storylines will not win me over.
  • Your story does not need to be scary, and may have a happy ending (or be happy overall, for that matter) if you wish. Unleash your creativity completely and write the story you wish to write - within the rules of the competition, of course.
  • Please read the rules carefully and double check your story before submitting it. If you make a small error (such as forgetting to use the form or the hide tags), I will give you a chance to fix it. In the case of plagiarism or attempting to recycle an old story of yours, you will not receive a second chance.

Submission Form:
HTML Code:
[size=5][b]I have written you a story![/b][/size]
Username:
Preferred Participation Prize: (please pick a halloween goodie bag from Treat's Halloween Rares Shop)
Title: (you may leave this blank or write "Untitled" if your story has no title)
Submission:
[hide]Place your story here[/hide]
Final notes: (such as what inspired you, something you want to say regarding your piece, etc. Keep it brief, I've already read one story by you.)

Last edited by Lise; 10-31-2010 at 10:37 PM..

Lise
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Lise is offline
 
#3
Old 10-27-2010, 03:25 AM

Prizes:
Perhaps I am fickle, but I think I will keep the prizes a secret again... I will, however, tell you this much about them:
  • The grand prize will be [a] Contribution Item[s] worth at least 11,000g.
  • The second place prize will be worth at least 6,000g.
  • Additional prizes will be given out based on the submissions I receive. There may be a "third place prize," or I may make up categories, it all depends on how many astounding submissions I receive. Should I receive 7 I love, I will give out 7 prizes, should I receive only 3 that I love, I will give 3 prizes. So do your absolute best and do not be intimidated by other submissions that you deem better than yours.
  • A minimum of 2 prizes will be given out, guaranteed. One or both are guaranteed to be the grand prize.
  • All participants will receive a halloween goodie bag from Treat's Halloween Rares Shop. If you do not specify which treat bag you would like, you will be awarded a random one. Submissions that do not follow the rules and are not corrected before the end of the event will not receive a treat bag.

There you have it, Menewshans. Now get to writing and try to impress me. You have until the event ends.

Last edited by Lise; 10-31-2010 at 10:39 PM..

Lise
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Lise is offline
 
#4
Old 10-27-2010, 03:26 AM

Submissions:

I have written you a story!
Username: Carzeebear
Preferred Participation Prize: Green
Title: Marked.
Submission:

SPOILERX

They tell me this bed is haunted. That the last girl to sleep here died. I refuse to die. I refuse to submit to a curse, to a haunting. I have too much to do.

Those are the words that I wrote in my diary on the first day of school. Now I’m not so sure. I’ve been here a month, and there are strange things going on. Only yesterday did I fall down the stairs on the way down to breakfast. I hope that was merely coincidence, but something tells me it isn’t.


“Chris!” A familiar voice beckons me for assembly. I sigh, Kelly is always after me to do better in school, but to be honest, I’m not sure it matters anymore. I’m here because my family couldn’t bear to look at me anymore. Not since Katherine died. Katherine was my identical twin, and she died in a car crash at the end of last year. I feel her loss, sure, but it doesn’t rule me. It didn’t break me. It did break my parents, so here I am, sleeping in a haunted bed, in a boarding school miles from home. Oh well, it’s time to go to assembly, or Kelly will murder me. Hah, maybe then I’ll be haunting this bed instead of the other girl.
“I’m coming!” I yell back exasperatedly. Assembly. This is going to be boring.
“Well hurry up then!” She yells back and I hurry downstairs to join her. “Oh Chris, uniform?” I look down and realise that I’m still wearing my pyjamas.
“This is what they get for holding assemblies at seven on a Saturday, Kell.”
“Fine. Come on.” She takes me by the arm and drags me to assembly. Neither of us can help but laugh at the ridiculous picture we must make. Her in school uniform dragging me along in my pyjamas.

As predicted, this assembly is boring. It’s all the headmistress, talking on, and on, and on, about uniform. Oh, uniform. Dang! I realise that she’s probably glaring at me, but I don’t dare look. Suddenly I feel something wrap around my arm. Is it a hand? I turn, but see nothing on either side of me.
“There’s no escape.” A girl’s voice whispers nastily in my ear. I turn again and there’s nobody there. What is going on?!
As we are being let out of assembly I realise something. The ghost is catching up with me. How can this be? It’s not real, just a prank on the new girl... right? That voice seems to disagree with me. It’s back. With its, or should I say her eerie message. “There’s no escape.” That may be what ghostie thinks, but I know differently. There’s always an escape. I go to the roof. Not to jump. To think.

Even here there’s a voice in my ear, but her message has changed. “Death is an escape.” She whispers her curse in my ear. “Your sister escaped.” That scares me, how does a ghost know about my sister? “If you know it, I know it. You’ve been marked.”
“Marked for what?” I speak to the open air of the roof.
“Guess.”
“Oh Ha, Ha, Ha.”
“You could escape if you wanted to.”
“Never.”

I was resolved to live.
My resolve wouldn’t break.
Or so I thought.
I tell you this story as a warning.

“You’ve been marked.”

Final notes: It's short, and not my best work, but I was rushed! Silly brothers.

I have written you a story!
Username: Kultura
Preferred Participation Prize: Green Goodie Bag
Title:
Submission:

SPOILERX

The rain tapped on the windows of the 92 Ford Escort, it was so heavy that the sound of the old car’s noisy engine was barely audible. Rhys sat in the passenger seat, playing a game on his PSP while his mother, who was driving, sang along to Papa Don’t Preach on the radio. Rhys rolled his eyes. At least it’s just us, he thought, it would be much worse if anyone else were here. It was approaching 8PM, it was already dark and they were travelling along a poorly lit road. “Are you even going the right way, mum?” Rhys asked. He was tired and bored. They had come from his mother’s cousin’s wedding, and had been driving for hours now. He just wanted to get to the hotel, sleep, and then make the rest of the journey home tomorrow.
“Of course I’m going the right way!” his mum said, smiling. “We should be at Premier Inn soon.” Yeh, I hope so, Rhys thought. As well as wanting to sleep, he wanted to smoke. Badly. There was no way he could light up in front of his mother, even though he was 18. She would be so mad.
It was close to 10PM before Rhys and his mum reached the hotel they were staying at. His mum parked the car, and he carried their luggage to their rooms. It was a plain room, the walls were painted cream, on the wall was a small window with terracotta curtains, there was a little pine nightstand with a phone and a lamp, and in the middle of the room, a single bed. Rhys put down his bags and fell back onto the bed. It wasn’t much but he was glad to be out of the car. There was no TV in his room, so he turned on his PSP again.
Rhys waited until his mother switched off her lights before he decided to smoke a cigarette. He rummaged through his suitcase, finding the box of Mayfair hidden in a sock. He looked around the room, and was disappointed to see a smoke alarm. Of course there would be a smoke alarm, he thought, of course. He didn’t even need to look out of the window to tell it was still raining, as he could hear it beating against the window. He sighed and pulled on a hoody.
Outside, it was not only wet but cold. A strong wind blew against Rhys, and a fog was started to form. Rhys stood near the front door of the hotel, trying to get shelter from the rain and wind so he could light his cigarette. A security man, wearing a green suit and with an obnoxious nametag telling Rhys his name was “RYAN” asked him to step away from the door if he was going to smoke. Brilliant, Rhys thought. It was after 11PM by now. He was cold, wet and agitated, but still determined to have a cigarette. He walked down the street until he came to an old theatre building, with a huge doorway that he could stand under for shelter. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, it was a relief. He didn’t even notice the door behind him opening. He felt something wrap around his arm.
“Argh” Rhys jumped in shock. He looked around, and saw that it was an old woman holding his arm, and quite firmly too. “You can’t smoke here!” she said, in a cold, raspy voice.
“Go away, I’ll do what I want”, Rhys replied, taking another drag.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?” This hit Rhys hard, his mum was all he had and he didn’t like bad things being said about her. He remained silent and looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he threw the cigarette on the ground.
“There”, he said. “Gone. Whatever.”
The lady stared at him, making eye contact. Rhys quickly looked away, thinking that it was starting to get really creepy. “Why don’t you come inside for tea?” the lady asked him, her tone of voice much different now, almost soft. “I can read your tea leaves for you.” Rhys rolled his eyes.
“How much does that cost?”
“Only five pounds.”
He had a £20 note in his pocket, and thought he might as well. He was cold and decided a cuppa would be nice before he started the walk back to the hotel, even if it were with a creepy lady who lived in an old theatre building. He followed her into the building, the door slamming behind him.
She led him up a grand staircase, into a small room with a fireplace, a table and a couple of arm chairs. “Sit down” she told him, smiling. “This building used to be my grandfather’s. It was very successful in its day!” She continued while putting an old steel kettle over the fire, “We have no idea what happened though. It’s almost as if the building was cursed”. She frowned and paused for a minute, before sitting down. “What’s your name, boy?” she asked.
“Rhys,” he answered, “Rhys Johnston.”
“I’m Eliza.” She put out her frail old hand to shake his. The kettle whistled, indicating that the water was boiled. Rhys began to feel awkward and just wanted to leave.
Eliza poured tea for both of them, and stared at Rhys as she sipped on it. Rhys gulped his down as quickly as he could, burning his throat. He didn’t care, he just wanted to go as soon as possible. Eliza took the cup and looked at the leaves. “Ah, grave misfortune is heading your way, Rhys Johnston, you ha-...”
“Ok, thanks” Rhys interrupted, standing up. “I have to go now, my mum is probably worried about me.”
“Ah yes, of course” Eliza answered, holding out her hand.
Rhys stared for a moment, wondering what she wanted. “Oh, I forgot.” He went into his pocket and handed the lady the £20 pound note. She had told him it would cost £5 and so he expected change, but instead, Eliza just nodded her head. “Goodbye, Rhys Johnston. Take care.”
“What?” Rhys looked at her in disbelief. “Could I, um, have my change please?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb with me you old hag! Give me my money!”
“Now Rhys, watch what you are saying. Please leave now before I call the police.”
Rhys was so angry. There was no way he was losing out on £20 for absolutely nothing. He swore at her, and shouted again “Give me my money, you old hag!”
Eliza stared at him, muttering under her breath. What now, Rhys thought. Her stare was fixed on him, she did not even blink. Her eyes grew wider, and rolled back into her head. All the time she was muttering, whispering something. Rhys froze with fear. Eliza stopped her whispering, her eyes went back to normal and she sat down. She looked exhausted.
“Now go” she said, in the same raspy tone as when she first spoke.
Rhys didn’t need to be told twice, and ran back to the hotel. He peeled off his wet clothes, threw on an old tshirt and tracksuit bottoms and lay in bed, pulling the covers up over his head. He had never run as fast in his life, he was out of breath and despite the rain and cold of outside, he was sweating. He went over and over what had just happened in his head, trying to make some sense of it. All he could think was “What the hell?”
If he hadn’t been exhausted from rushing back to the hotel, Rhys would not have fallen asleep. What he had seen that night frightened him. It plagued his dreams, playing over and over. He woke with a start, and sat up. His LED watch lit up the red numbers 12:45. He had only been sleeping about half an hour. He lay down again, and froze. He was not alone in his bed. He shut his eyes tight and turned around. This is a dream, he told himself, just a dream. He turned around in the bed, and slowly opened his eyes.
“Jesus Christ!” he screamed, jumping out of the bed. Beside him in the bed was what could only be described as a charred corpse, but with piercing orange eyes. Rhys stood beside the window, frozen with fear, staring in disbelief as the figure began to rise for the bed and limp slowly towards him. It swung for him, its long fingernails slashing his tshirt and tearing the skin on his chest. “MUM!” Rhys screamed, running passed the monster into the en suite bathroom that joined both their rooms. He turned on the light, locked the door, but heard scratching from the other side. “MUM MUM MUM!” he called.
The light turned off. The scratching stopped. Silence. Rhys stopped breathing. Then he realised that this wasn’t be choice, that he physically could not breathe. It felt as though someone, something was choking him. He put his hands around his throat, but nothing was there to be stopped. His throat felt tight, tears streamed down his face and he thought he was going to die.
Suddenly, the lights came back on, and he heard his mother knocking on the door. “Rhys?” she called. “Rhys, open the door, what’s wrong?” He opened the door and started telling his mother about this thing in his bed. “Rhys, you’re 18 now. You know none of that was real, it was a nightmare!”
“But... My tshirt...” He began to protest. He looked down. His tshirt was intact. Maybe it was a dream. “Um, sorry mum. I’m going to go back to bed now.” Rhys felt stupid as he climbed back into bed. It had to be a dream, he told himself. As he lay looking at the ceiling, laughing at himself, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He lifted his tshirt , revealing 4 deep scratches. The blood had dried around them, but they were there. “What?”
Again, Rhys was beat by exhaustion and fell asleep. He woke in the morning, at 8AM as his alarm had been set. Instantly he remembered the nights’ events, but in his half-sleeping state he wasn’t sure if it actually had happened or not. He walked, sleepily to the bathroom and took off his tshirt. Looking in the mirror, his eyes grew wide and he broke a cold sweat. His nose was bleeding. Behind him in his reflection was the corpse. He spun around, but seen nothing. It was still in the reflection though, just staring at him. Rhys closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but when he opened them again the being was still behind him. He noticed then the reflection of his chest. He looked down, seeing the same four scratched from the night before. He looked at his reflection again, where instead of the scratches on his chest were words, carved deep into his skin and bleeding, reading “GRAVE MISFORTUNE”.

I'm really not much of a writer. I guess I have good imagination for stories, but when it comes to writing them, I'm just useless with words. xD

I have written you a story!
Username: fishyfey
Preferred Participation Prize: Random
Title: Voodoo Mamba
Submission:

SPOILERX

Auntie Sara scrubbed the bloodstain off her basement floor. She calls it "sacrificing" a goat to the gods. I call it murder.

"I know you're up there little Peggy. Don't be hiding yourself on the stairs like some sort of thief. I don't want to see you up to no mischief tonight. Come down and help me clean up this mess." Auntie Sara said in her thick southern drawl.

I peeled my hands away from the banister and slowly descended to the grey basement floor.

"Don't just stand there like a lazy lump. Come over here and help me." Auntie Sara said.

I tried to walk towards her, but my feet stayed stuck in place. "I can't Auntie." I said in a small voice.

Auntie Sara stopped cleaning the bloodstain, put her hands on her round hips, and stared at me. You never want to see that expression on any adults face. It means that you ought to suck it up right now and do as you're told lest you get into a load of trouble. My feet wouldn't move even though I told them to please walk towards Auntie. I don’t think that my feet understood what was at stake here. If we didn't get over there Auntie was going to beat my bottom red. Maybe my feet didn't care about that, but my bottom surely did.

I decided that in order to avoid a beating I would do my best to stall. "Why did you have to kill that goat?" I asked.

She looked at me for a moment longer with that hard, angry expression on her face
and then walked up to me. Her green eyes softened and she sat on the bottom stair, patting the area beside her. "Sit with me for a moment little Peggy." Auntie said.

I sat.

"There's some things happening that are just too big for little girls to understand. But." She sighed. "I'll try my best to explain it to you. You're a sweet girl and deserve to know the truth of things."

"Do you know why your mama left you with me when you were just a little baby?"
I shook my head no. I had no memories of my mother. Sometimes I imagined her coming home and hugging me and laughing with me. Then she would take my hand and bring me with her to a new life. It would be a dream come true if that ever happened.

"She left you with me because your mama had no money and no man to take care of her. Your father stayed with her long enough to get her pregnant and then ran out on her as soon as he found out. Didn't want to be a daddy I guess."

"Your mama never learned any of the dark arts so she didn't know that all we would need to get even with your father was a lock of his hair. Naturally when she dropped you off here she didn't have it with her. It's been six years since then, but I've figured out how to finally make things right. I managed to 'acquire' a few strands of his hair and immediately set to work making the strongest curse of my life. That man is going to pay for making your mama into a drunk without enough common sense to keep her from driving off that bridge. He will pay for everything." Auntie Sara's eyes burned with hatred. "That goat I killed was a blood sacrifice to the gods. His death will ensure the success of my curse."

"What will your curse do to him?" I asked.

She smiled a wicked self indulgent smile. "Why don't you see for yourself." She patted my shoulder absently. "He is coming over tonight."

I stiffened. "What? My father is coming here tonight!"

"Yes." Auntie Sara said before standing up. "Go play upstairs if you won't help me clean up the blood."

I was up the stairs before she finished the sentence. Then I paced the kitchen waiting to see my father for the first time. When I finally sat down on our overstuffed couch I felt something wrap around my arm. My fat cream colored cat snuggled close to my body purring, while I fidgeted impatiently.

Hours later I was a jittery mess, but finally there was a gentle tapping on the front door. Auntie Sara swept forward and opened the door with a flourish. "So nice of you to join us James." She said in a falsely sweet tone. I stepped forward, excited in spite of myself.

"What have you done to me?" Mumbled a deep voice that cracked in despair.

"I've given you what you deserved." Auntie Sara said. "For abandoning my sister."

Inside the doorway stood something that may have once been a man. Supposedly it was my father, but you would never know it by looking at him. His skin was sunken and blue, his cloths dirty and rotting off his body, and his eyes were shriveled in their sockets.

I stepped back involuntarily. "You didn't leave my mother… you died." I said to the creature. "And you brought him back…" I said to my Auntie.


I have written you a story!
Username: Gummybug
Preferred Participation Prize: Any
Title: Trick Or Treat chuckled the grinning cat

SPOILERX

The night was strangely dark, the moon shone upon the water, and as graven threw a pebble into the midnight water it traces ripples across its surface, and distorted the sky. The wind howled through the trees and the tree house creaked. Graven had been sat there for a while and no one had come. It was getting cold and dark but he would wait. He didn’t care about what his mother thought, in fact he couldn’t care less. His phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open. A new message, He read it out loud,
‘Sorry I can’t make it today. Maybe next year…’ Graven Sighed. ‘Typical. She stood me up last year…’ he pulled his hood over his head and jumped down. It wasn’t far down but it still stung when he hit the floor. He looked around and pulled his Halloween jacket around his shoulders, and put his mask on. He was much too old to go trick or treating but he still enjoyed it. He walked down and watched as little kids went knocking on doors in the doors, it seemed stupid. He walked down to a door that no one had knocked on. He Taped on the door with his finger, the door opened slightly and a old man looked out. Graven peered through the door.
‘Trick or treat?’ he mumbled.
‘GET OUR OF HERE!’ the old man yelled and slammed the door
Graven sighed ‘stupid idiot’ me mumbled and stepped back. He turned quickly and walked away. He felt something wrap around his arm, he turned sharply, and looked around, there was a thick black line flowing out of the door, it looked like ink, he pulled his arm away but it tightened. He pulled more but it tightened more and cut his arm. He shouted, the ribbon pulled him closer to the door, he shouted for the people around him, It seemed no one could see him, he pulled against it but hit arm went THROUGH to door, The rippled spread across the door, the rest of his body followed, As his head went through his shouts echoed through his head. His feet touched a cold floor. That’s odd. Didn’t he just?- oh well. He thought, he could see things, but he couldn’t make out what it was, It just looked fuzzy. He stepped forward and reached out for it, but he couldn’t reach it. Suddenly, a black, oily looking cat walked out behind it. Its fur was moving around, and flowing all over its body, but the cat, unlike what it was stood in front of, He could see it very clearly. He walked forwards but it felt like he was walking through thick mud, His feet kept getting stuck in the black floor and it began splashing up his legs, This wasn’t good, He couldn’t even see half of his legs anymore and it crept up further, he bend down and tried to scrape it off, But his hand just went through here his leg SHOULD be. He looked at his hand in shock, and stepped forward again, the cat turned to face him, It had a huge grin on its face, and its eyes where gold and flowing, like its body,
‘HEY!’ he shouted over to it in desperation ‘C-CAN YOU HELP?’
The cat walked towards him slowly, Not having any trouble with the dark mud, still grinning with its sharp teeth. Now the mud had crept up to his hips, it felt cold, not too cold, But it hurt. He reached out for the cat, it sad down on the floor. He suddenly noticed, Blood was dripping from the gaps in its teeth, he pulled his hand back and the cat started walking to him again, He stepped back, But his ‘foot’ got stuck in the mud and he fell over. The mud flowed over his body, He shouted for help but the mud filled his mouth. He couldn’t breath, Hear, see or speak, He tried yelling but no sound would come out.
He could only see black. But there was the cat. Glowing, Standing out for the darkness
‘Trick’ the cat chuckled in a sly tone

Final notes: I dont know xD i just kinda got carried away by the end :P
Im not sure what inspired me, Nothing realy... But my sister was listening to s creepy song xD So yea. I hope its okay :)

The opening the spoiler thing wont work for me, But se if you can :)

I have written you a story!
Username: Clair Voyant
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue Goodie Bag
Title: A Crimson Haunting in White Snow
Submission:

SPOILERX

Clair had been warned and warned time and time again about the curse of this field. Just beyond the church, past the cemetery, the stretching, rolling fields, where once a rich farmer had planted and harvested crops, was a place to avoid. Those who wandered there were never seen again, but that was a creepy story to frighten children into behaving and from wandering too far from home. Clair knew that, everyone did.
The day had started lovely, despite the heavy, gray clouds the cast an odd grayish glow over the world, it had been a nice Halloween day. It had been a perfect day for a bit of Halloween exploring. Now that Clair and her friends were older, trick or treating was no longer a desirable activity. What better place to go explore than the supposed haunted and cursed, abandoned farming fields?
How Clair wished that she had listened to the warnings. It was too late, now. Her friends were gone, and Clair was left to escape alone.
The howling wind whipped snow flakes that pricked the skin like millions of little needles through the air. It was unlike any Halloween Clair had ever seen. She’d witnessed snow falling in small, soft showers in October over the years, but never had she seen snow on Halloween. And this was not a gentle, lazy snow shower, but a hard, cruel blizzard. The deep, drifting snow made her escape towards the church more difficult. She longed so badly it made her heard ache, to be be able to flee quickly and easily from her stalker.
She knew he was out there, somewhere. Clair hoped, prayed, that he was far behind her, but she couldn’t be sure. The snow fell a such a dense and quick pace that it stung her eyes and face when she tried to scan around her and though she bared her teeth and faced the stinging snow in her eyes, there was little to be seen. The wind blew the snow so hard it washed visibility to scarcley a few yards ahead and behind.
It was perfect weather, Clair thought, for a predator to hunt and strike.
Pressing forward, her body bowed against the wind, Claire tried to keep herself calm. It would only slow her already deathly slow trudging to panic. However, she could not fight the fear back and her mind seemed to play through gore and death she’d seen like a slide show.
Images of crimson hand and foot prints stained into the perfect whiteness; evidence of fleeing prey and an assailant. She’d never seen so much blood, and though she could not have known exact amount of spilled crimson in the snow, Clair knew in the pit of her stomach that the prey had not been able to escape death. She was determined, though, to cheat death’s grasp.
If I could only see where I was going I would have a better chance. I would know where the church is, Clair thought. But then again, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see. Perhaps, if she could see, she would realize that she’d made it to safety. Then again, a bigger part of her knew that she would not like what she saw if visibility cleared.
Suddenly, as if some unknown force had read her mind, the snow fall around her lessened, as if the wind had paused to catch its breath. Immediately, Clair could see much farther, and what she saw struck her with such an overpowering terror, she stood paralyzed. Dread boiled up in the pit of her stomach, churning around and growing into panic that rose up through her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her mouth dropped open as she realized that she’d come in a complete circle. She stood now in the middle of bloodied, spoiled snow.
Clair couldn’t be sure exactly what caused her to turn around, she could not remember hearing a sound over the wind, but it didn’t matter. Now facing the direction from which she’d come, Clair could see the shadowed figure slowly, but easily coming towards her. Tears of fear, anger and frustration welled and spilled from her eyes and her wind burned cheeks as they slid slowly towards her chin. The whole time, she’d been in a trap; the whole time, she’d been walking towards her fate, rather than away.
She could now see the glowing, piercing red eyes of her stalker, and felt and odd pain rising from her throat and in her ears. Clair did not realize she was screaming. There was no place to run. The fields were endless, it seemed. She’d tried her best to escape to the church, to hollowed ground, but she’d failed.
Clair fell to her knees; she could feel a burning, cold wetness seeping through her jeans. Her eyes squeezed shut. She tried to hug herself, as if attempting to put up a shield, a barrier to keep the attacker away, but she felt something wrap around her arm, pulling it roughly away from her body, leaving her feeling exposed.
The wind picked up again, and it howled and whistled around Clair. She could feel the painful, harsh pricks of snow against her cheeks and eye lids. Then, a horrible, sharp, slashing pain in her neck. Her last screams could not be heard over the howling wind. Her blood was hidden under the beautiful white snow.

Final notes: I was actually inspired for this story by two things. One, today is actually a very snowy stormy-ish Halloween day for me, the first I've ever seen on Halloween, and two, by a line in the sermon my Pastor gave this morning at church that went something like: Let the white snow hide the crimson marks. ^^ Anyways, I really hope this is okay for an entry.

I have written you a story!
Username: CADFND
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue goodie bag
Title: Blue Moon
Submission:

SPOILERX

Yvonne looked one last time in the mirror before heading out. Her blond hair was tied back in a tight bun. The witch’s outfit she was wearing consisted of a pale grey corset that covered, a black silken skirt that came a little past midway to her knees, white detached sleeves, black boots with belts for decoration near the top, fishnet stockings, and a floppy black witch’s hat adorned with white ribbon. Halloween was her favorite time of year. The sights, sounds, and smells of the fresh autumn were her solace.
Coming out of her cocoon of a house, she walked along the concrete sidewalk, occasionally twirling in the falling leaves. Was she going trick-or-treating? No. Yvonne was exploring, searching for a mysterious passageway that might lead her to some relic of the past, or some modern-day sorcery. Although being sixteen, the girl still believed that there was some sort of magic in the world, be it demonic or not. She KNEW it existed, she could feel it in the air. Tonight it was stronger than ever, almost as if she could cast a spell of her own if she tried.
Going through a back alleyway and over a fence lead her to a forest. It was one of Yvonne’s favorite places, especially on Halloween. The curving trees that formed arcs with their gnarled branches lead to a clearing where the clear night sky and the harvest moon could be seen. She twirled again, reveling in the feeling of mystery. Humming a hymn of her own creation, she danced about.
“It’s as if the only reality
Isn’t here with anyone.
All this,
Isn’t it all a dream?
What reality is there?
Correct me if I’m wrong,
But hasn’t the world descended
Into madness already?
All the disorder that revels here,
Not even a blue moon could hold it’s entirety in-
The hearts that beat within us
All have a chaotic rhythm.
Only for one night may they beat true.”
She stopped suddenly, falling onto the remains of crimson and amber leaves. She’d felt something wrap around her arm and pull her down. She paused for a minute.
“Nah, I probably just lost my balance.” She passed it off, seeing as it might’ve been that one of her sleeves had twisted, but the sensation was gone now.
Yvonne was about to stand up when something caught her eye. A small figure with a Cheshire grin came along stopping in front of her. Yvonne’s eyes widened a bit and she tilted her head. She was more… curious than scared of what this little creature was.
“I liked your poem. It’s so true, you know? Chaos is everywhere, but everyone denies it… You, on the other hand…”
All Yvonne could make out on the creature was its grin, but it appeared to be human-like, save for the fact that it seemed to be a living shadow. “You liked it, hm? That’s good to hear.” She started taking on a slight accent, as she does when something intrigues her, “I always thought of the Chaos being everywhere, waiting to be awakened by even the slightest of things.”
“Oh, I like how you think.” The creature hummed, its grin growing wider. It laid one of its hands on Yvonne’s shoulder and whispered, “Look up.”
Yvonne’s eyes widened as she saw that the moon had changed from a full harvest moon to a sliver of a blue moon. The creature started humming Yvonne’s hymn getting louder and louder as it seemed to fuse with Yvonne, finally triggering her to become alarmed.
“What-what are you?!” She managed to sputter out of half her mouth, seeing as the other held the creature’s devious grin.
“I, my dear, am the embodiment of all this chaos. Demon, Sin, call me what you wish, but for tonight, this body of yours is mine.” Yvonne’s skin darkened, and her eyes began to turn red.
Standing up, Yvonne felt trapped within herself. She tried to think of something that she could do to buffer the entity’s control over her body. It simply repeated the hymn over and over again. Yvonne had the urge to tell the chaotic being to shut up, but that probably wouldn’t do any good. Black circular patterns formed at Yvonne’s body’s feet and her arms reached for the sky.
“Take that, Luna, I am free for the night.” The words came out of her mouth, but in a voice not her own. The blue moon started to grow from crescent to full and reflected in Yvonne’s now-red eyes.
The entity repeated the hymn several more times as the whole world seemingly darkened. Suddenly it came back to her. The hymn she’d created for Luna’s sake.
“Alone, you’d say
She protects what means most,
Holding the dark within her reach.
Outshined,
But always quietly glowing,
The solace that the harvest moon
Will not capture us,
As for it was trapped by her.
Everything means something
Nothing goes unguarded.
Even the smallest thing
Takes a sigh of relief
At the sight of the harvest moon.”
The entity was silent for a moment as it realized what Yvonne was saying. The shadowed circles were being dispelled as a harvest moon started to come back to the sky. Yvonne echoed what the being had done with her other hymn and kept repeating it. She said it louder and louder. The chaos was being dispelled with each and every word said.
“No!” It hollered, “This can’t be happening!”
Yvonne had regained control over her body and fell to her knees, gasping for the breath that had been caught in her throat.
“You do realize that I wouldn’t let it happen, right?” The entity had been demoted back to its own form, and a white entity in the shape of a wolf, Luna, trotted forward towards Yvonne as the chaos finally disappeared, the harvest moon back in the sky.
“What… What happened?”Yvonne said, rubbing her forehead, “Well, more like, HOW did that happen?”
“Chaos escapes every once in a while, his favorite time is Halloween. Apparently, you were the one who met him this time. I’m certainly glad you didn’t consent to his being inside of you.” The wolf’s eyes seemed to smile, seeing as that was the only part of her visible in the light of the rest of her body.
“Well, was I supposed to let it take me over? Who WANTS something like that inside of them? It’s a curse, not a blessing.” Yvonne said in disbelief.
“You’ve heard of certain killers’ eyes turning red, haven’t you?” Luna said, now sitting in front of Yvonne.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” Yvonne looked down at her hands. To think she’d forced back something that demonic…
“Correct.” Luna said, “Before I leave, I’d like to ask you something. May I?”
“You already are.” Yvonne said jokingly, but then said, “Go ahead.”
“About what you said to Chaos, did you mean it?” Yvonne smiled at the white wolf. Luna tilted her head.
“Of course I did,” Yvonne started, “And that’s why I’m so careful, unlike the rest of the world.”
Luna closed her eyes, “Thank you.”
Yvonne remained there for a few minutes after Luna had disappeared, taking in all of what had happened in the course of those five-or-so minutes. She sighed in relief.
“And here, I used to think you were beautiful.” She said, directed at the harvest moon.

Final notes: I hope it counts. ^^ I had quite a bit of fun writing this piece, and writing the poetry.

I have written you a story!
Username: musasgal
Preferred Participation Prize: Green Goody Bag please.
Title:Untitled"
Submission:

SPOILERX

Like most scary stories, it usually start with “it was a dark and scary night” or something like that. But this one is kinda opposite. It started on a lovely spring day. Perfect for Halloween? Well, this is placed on the other side of the world. There was a couple of teens, just skipping enjoying the sunshine, all dressed up for Halloween. One of them is me. An innocent girl, madly in love. Now don’t think that this turns out romantic but there was more to my partner than meets the eye.
“Hey, see that house over there?” he asked, “They say that around this time, the house comes alive.”
Come on, you been watching that Monster House movie so many times. It’s only a rumour and it doesn’t happen! I thought but he pulled my arm. He dragged me in my Zombie type outfit into the house. In usual stories, there was like A cemetery out front and the house is all creaky and falling apart. But it looks like an ordinary two story house to me. What I didn’t know is about who was my boyfriend really was. What I heard that every Halloween, he brings a girl to this place and she never comes out so I was a bit frightened.
“You ok?” he asked. I shook my head.
“I’m fine” I replied, then he tugged me towards the house. He knocked.
“I think we better go” I said.
“And miss out all the fun? Yeah right” and he opened the door and dragged me in.

Inside, it is covered with dust and cobwebs. A haunted house. Great.
“Lets split up. You look around here and I look upstairs” and he left me all alone.
That bustard! I thought. At least the plants was still alive, and there was a lot of them. I just wished I didn’t watch that episode of Suite Life on Deck relating to the plants. I gulped. And as I wished, the plants sprung to life. I ran towards the living room, the stalks of the plants followed. I screamed and ran to the kitchen. Pots and pans flew everywhere and at least one whacked me in the head and I fell into darkness…..in other words, knocked me out.

I woke up a few minutes later. I didn’t know where I was. Then I felt something wrap around my arm. Or arms, ankles and waist. It was snakes. Not trick of the eye ropes, but actual live snakes. I screamed but it came out like a muffle. Before I get any further, it’s not what you thinking. My ankles was tied together, not the usual ankles apart. Anyway I see my true companion. He was in fact (no surprises) a vampire.
“There is a reason why you are here” he said, letting me breath. I just spat at him.
“How dare you!” he cried.
“Let me go” I demanded.
“Not yet” he said, showing his fangs. I knew it was the end of me.
“Become my bride and live with me forever” he finished.
“Where are the other girls?” I asked.
“They never lived again. You on the other hand will live forever with me.”
“No, I won’t let you do this” I screamed. The hisses of the snakes quieten me down.
“You don’t have a choice” and he came near my neck…bit into it…and I felt myself fall to the ground. My mortal side died and was no more. I'm now the creature of the night and will always be.

Final notes: Finally fixed up the ending to make it a bit more....i don't know, weird?

I have written you a story!
Username: say-i-love-you
Preferred Participation Prize: doesn't matter I already have all four :P
Title: Untitled
Submission:

SPOILERX

It was raining again and Becca's forehead was still dripping with sweat. She had told the landlord about her heater being stuck five too many times but nothing had been done to fix it. Typical. She put her forehead against the glass of her window and felt a cool shiver course down her spine. Much better.
“I can't take this anymore.” Becca sighed as she reached over to grab her coat and said a goodbye to the calico cat lounging on the back of the couch. Becca darted down the stairs, not wanting to get trapped in the ancient elevator. The heel of her shoe caught on the last stair, sending her tumbling forward when suddenly she felt something wrap around her arm, holding her upright so she didn't face plant on the cement flooring. Gasping in an attempt to catch her breath, Becca turned to face the stranger who had kept her and realized it was her next door neighbor.
“Are you alright?” He asked with a warm smile as he let go of her arm and placed his hand back in his pocket.
“Yes, thank you.” Becca said with a blush, embarrassed about falling in front of him.
“Are you going to the Anderson's Halloween supper tonight?” He asked, referring to the dinner that their landlord and wife were hosting though his eyes lingered over Becca's frame.
“I don't think so.” Becca said. “But I have an errand to run so I'll see you around.” She added lamely in an excuse to get away. The man only nodded before turning to go towards his apartment as Becca continued her jog downstairs.

The streets were freezing which was a comforting change from the furnace that was her apartment but the sidewalks were empty, something that was rare for Halloween. Maybe the trick or treating came later? She pondered as she continued to walk.
Suddenly a dash of black, orange, and white shot across the barren street and over Becca's feet which sent her backwards into a rather large puddle of water. “Oh come on.” She protested as she examined her now soaking jacket and pants as she stood up. Following the blur into the alley Becca could hardly see a foot in front of her but she trudged onwards in an aimless quest.
A few homeless men shouted obnoxiously to Becca as she moved on but she continued on without glancing in their direction, not wanting to provoke them. Soon she approached a dumpster near the opposite end of the alley and heard a faint scratching sound. With her clothes still stuck against her frame, Becca peered over to see a calico cat that looked startlingly like her own scratching at a small black door with peeling paint chips on the ground.
Without thinking twice Becca reached over and opened the door so that the cat could get inside. Being as curious of a person as she was Becca peeked inside the door and saw that it was a rundown kitchen of a restaurant that must have gone out of business years ago.
She stepped inside and found a few kitchen towels piled in the corner and began patting down her backside in a fruitless attempt to dry her clothing. But it was to no avail and she decided to poke around some more.
It was a small dream of her's to own a restaurant someday and maybe this place would be a good home for such a dream. Granted she would have to put a lot of money into redecorating...
The floor tiles were cracked and stained with tar-like pools of black and the wallpaper hung in strips. The counters however were savable except for a quick dusting. She happily noted that there were drawers full of nearly unused utensils and a full set of knives were hanging on the wall next to what looked like an office door.
Becca entered the door of the office where a litter of newborn kittens had been safely nested inside a knocked over trashcan. This must have been what the cat was looking for... She mused and bent down to give each kitten a small pet on the head. They meowed their appreciation before she stood up and made her way back into the kitchen.
Was it her eyes or had there been a full knife set here before? Now it appeared as though two knives had gone missing from the wall but Becca though nothing of it. She hadn't heard anyone and this place was clearly old. Maybe she was just tired.
Making her way to the opposite side of the room Becca saw a locker room where employees probably hung their coats, especially in rain storms like this one... She thought as a crack of thunder rumbled overhead. Looking through the lockers, Becca found the calico cat from earlier curled up in the beneath an untouched wool coat.
“Hey there, kitty.” She smiled as she bent down. “Did you see your babies?” She asked as she petted beneath the collar of the cat with a shocked gasp. That was her cat's collar with her information printed on a silver tag. How had she gotten out? Becca had locked the door before she left and all of the windows were painted shut.
“Jenks?” She asked softly as she crawled forward towards her cat who had yet to move. “JENKS!” She yelled though there was no response. Tears began to slide down Becca's cheeks as she gently shook her cat. “Jenks what happened to you?!” She yelled.
“Curiosity.” Came a menacing voice from behind as hands found their way around Becca's waist and shoulders, gripping her back with iron strength.
“NO! HELP!” Becca screamed though her voice became muffled by a damp kitchen towel she had used earlier.
Becca felt her hope diminish as duct tape wound around her body to contain her fighting back before the shadowy figure of a chef dragged her into the kitchen's basement she hadn't bothered to notice earlier.

Final notes: Uhm I just started with her aparatment being stuffy and then the story kind of took over in front of me. There wasn't much planning and the end is kind of dark but hopefully not too dark. Enjoy.

I have written you a story!
Username: Arechi
Preferred Participation Prize: Yellow Goodie bag. :D
Title: A Night in Tinker River Graveyard...
Submission:

SPOILERX


It was only meant to be a little bit of fun, something that we tried and were suppose to prove wrong. It seems however we were the ones that were soon to be proven wrong...


The whole thing started when one of the women we worked with named Pam had told of an idea for a fun pre-Halloween activity. “You know there's this old abandoned graveyard that I read about online that's suppose to be haunted. From what I've read of witness accounts there appears to be all sorts of crazy things that happens there at night. One person wrote on the site that she and her boyfriend went to the graveyard to try out a new experience. Like me they had read about how this abandoned and that quite a bit of spooky stuff happens, most predominantly there appeared to be something about a black figure chasing people out of the graveyard and then seemingly disappearing once the people were no longer in it. Then of course there was the legend of a curse that is laid on people who enter it, because supposedly four of some of the most evilest people were buried there and do harm to the people that come. Well they were intrigued and when they started they're little experience said they saw a black figure constantly circling them. Immediately they remembered about the stories they heard of it and immediately stopped and quickly tried to leave the graveyard, the figure following them the entire way. On the way out though the girl claims that her boyfriend started feeling sick and was soon coughing out blood. Thinking it was the curse she quickly hauled him out of there, and the moment they were out of the graveyard he seemed to be fine. When they turned around they saw the black figure standing at the entrance, staring at them with bloody gems, and let out a piercing screeching laugh before disappearing suddenly” our older long haired co-worker said.


As the small group of co-workers that huddled around her and I listened to her story as she continued “There were a few other stories online too that seemed pretty good, and I hadn't read one review of it that was bad. So I was thinking this Friday we could all go there and see for ourselves what this little graveyard has in store for us?” she asked, knowing immediately that three people, including myself, would readily agree to partake on this little adventure. As she expected of course the black haired girl Cassundra, the short blonde haired Ben and I all said we would go.


And so we made arrangements for that Friday, that all of us we meet at our work's employee parking lot at 7:00 pm and carpool to this supposedly haunted cemetery. As expected all four of us showed up, with Pam in charge of the directions. We decided that of the four available cars we would all pile into Ben's 2008 Hondai, since his was the nicest and most comfortable out of them all. On our way there, and in between giving directions to Ben on where to turn, Pam told us a bit more about what she had learned about the graveyard. Apparently at least seven people had been murdered and buried up there in unmarked graves, and that they weren't the only unmarked graves there either. Apparently the cemetery was so old that it dated back to a time in which people didn't put gravestones up for the dead, but rather simply put them in a wooden box and buried them. We also learned that this graveyard, although near a church, was literally in the middle of no where.


After a few minor turn errors, and a few times in us getting a little bit lost, we finally reached the gravel driveway that was said to lead to the cemetery. What we discovered though, is that unlike what the site had said, we could not drive a car up there as a metal chain that held a no parking sign barred our path. So Ben parked the car in front of it and we all got out to walk the path behind it. Being the thinking type that I was, I had brought along a few flashlights, a camera, as well as a bottle of water for everyone and a fully charged cellphone.


We walked for perhaps a few hours, following the path that we thought led to the graveyard. The path was only big enough for pairs of twos to walk side by side, and so Cassundra and Ben walked ahead of Pam and I, with Cassundra in charge of one of the flashlights, while I held the other. We had come to many splits in our path, one of which contained a port-a-potty, which was a relief to Cassundra that needed to use the rest room. We chose to by pass that path and continued on straight ahead, with Cassundra electing to use a more 'natural' rest area after opening the plastic rest house and seeing the condition it was in. We continued walking, at times up hill, as the trees around us grew denser and closer together. When Pam told us that she read it was out in the middle of nowhere, she definitely wasn't joking that's for sure.


After a while however of not coming across the graveyard, and our path ending, we decided to head back, as disappointing as that was. As we came to the split that held the plastic restroom however, we decided to take a slight gamble and try that path. After all worst case scenario we didn't find the graveyard and we just turned back.


It seemed though luck was smiling on us as we walked on a bit, pausing only once at the sound of a pack of coyote's howling in a close distance with Pam's words of 'Sounds like they found something', with Ben picking up a rather large stick just in case that something was our scent, being our only words and actions of 'comfort' in the dark wooded area, and finally came onto the entrance of the alleged graveyard.


It was enclosed by a clear ring of trees, making the atmosphere feel ominous and rather creepy. We began first looking at the gravestones that were marked, many of which were so old we couldn't clearly make out the dates, names and age that they passed away; the ones that we were able to make out read various years of the 1800's, and with the last date reading 1919. We continued checking out the graves stones, before I took my camera out and started taking pictures of the tombstones. It was after my second picture that all four of us realized we may not be alone here after all. As Pam looked at the image that was on my digital camera she pointed out something that got three of us rather excited, an orb floating near a tombstone. Immediately Pam instructed I take a picture of the same place, which I complied with, though nothing was there anymore.


Pam started pointing in places that I should take pictures up, in hopes of seeing something, and after a few negative results we finally got our next interesting picture. In the corner of the picture we could clearly make out the form of mist on the ground. I quickly flashed one of my flashlights to the area, thinking that if it was a constant mist we would be able to see it, but nothing appeared to our eyes. I took a picture of the place again, and again nothing was there. After Pam asked if she could take a few pictures, which I said she could. Again in her pictures the images of orbs and mist appeared for only a few moments before disappearing.


Naturally Pam, Ben and myself were all excited by this findings, however Cassundra was not. She was perhaps the easiest one to scare out of our group, and by now she was completely terrified. Suddenly she jumped and ran between Pam and I. “I-I felt some-something w-wrap my arm back there!” she told us, grabbing onto Pam's arm. I flashed my flashlight at her arm and in the area she was previously in, but I didn't see anything.


“Oh Cassundra you were probably just feeling the cold air, after all it's a rather cold night tonight. More then likely too your mind is playing tricks on you” was our excuse for it. Perhaps when I look back on it though maybe there had indeed been something...there that wrapped around her arm that night. Either way we simply wrote it off and continued our exploration of the graveyard.


After a while Ben asked if he could take some pictures, which I said he could, however nothing appeared in any of his pictures. “Man these ghosts are sexist!” he had exclaimed, claiming that, that was the reason he couldn't get orbs or mist or anything else to appear in his photos, and handed the camera back to me.


I don't know if perhaps that phrase was perhaps some sort of trigger, but we noticed immediately that as we took pictures things seemed to be...following Ben. Was it a coincidence? I don't think so. We took pictures of everyone, and only in the ones with Ben did things now seem to appear. Mist and orbs seemed to surround and follow him, even to the point where at times we couldn't even seem him clearly in the picture.


We continued talking pictures, but soon Cassundra yelped and grabbed onto Pam. When asked what in the world she was on about now, she pointed towards the graveyard entrance. As we looked we noticed, not one but two figures standing there...watching us silently. At first we wondered if maybe we were seeing the black figure and maybe a friend of his. I think the thing though that I remember most about this moment was Pam's words of: “Cassundra I swear to God if you pull my hair your butt will be on the ground in two seconds!” It turns out however that these were not the mentioned figures.. After seeing that they were spotted, two park rangers came up to us, seeing if we were a group of kids here to vandalize. When they saw we weren't they told us to have fun and left.


However it was after they left when we came to a particular grave that things seemed to really spice things up. It was a grave that held the name of five people. When I took a picture we noticed a large amount of orbs and mist seemed to gather around that grave. Thinking quickly we told Ben to go stand by it. We took many pictures, some that seemed to contain figures in mist, and orbs in large amounts, however that was not our crowning picture. In one of the pictures I took Ben had decided to touch that gravestone the first time that night and the results were just plain spooky. When I looked at the picture I a sort of unholy glow seemed to surround the gravestone. Immediately I beckoned for the other three to come and showed them the picture. For the rest of our time we tried to get it to do it again, but we couldn't.


We stayed for perhaps a half hour before deciding to call it a night. My camera was full and we had many things to tell our families. The drive back was normal at least until Cassundra commented about a cute deer, before a buck decided to ram into Ben's car. No one was hurt, however the car took a nice little beating, but was safe enough to drive. After a brief report to the sheriff that came, and a joke about it being Ben's girlfriend from beyond the grave, we all returned home, but we'll be back...

Final notes: This was inspired by a true event that occurred to me and my friends.

I hope that just because it was inspired by some actual events that happened that it'll still count. :sweat:

I have written you a story!
Username: Ember Mist
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue Goodie bag.
Title: Untitled.
Submission:

SPOILERX

I and my two friends Emilee and David were walking around trick-or-treating and there was this one house that no one was going to but there was this old guy sitting on the porch in a wheelchair watching all the kids. The house looked scary, almost as if it would crash into its self with in a moment’s notice. So of course being adventurous we walked up to the house and said the normal. "Trick or treat."He smiled and handed us three small paper sacks, all that he seemed to have and then we turned and left. So we headed back to David’s and me and Emilee jumped on his bed and poured out our candy as David made food. Emilee and I were giggling and messing around with the candy eyes we had gotten but we, mostly I, kept glancing at the small paper sacks. Sighing I jumped up and grabbed it just as David walked in with three bowls of Chili. "What is in there?" He asked sitting in his computer chair and watching me.

"I'm not sure.. Let's find out." I said grinning and tearing the staples out. I brushed a few strands of hair out of my face and poured the bag upside down. A few folded pieces of paper fluttered to the bed along with a 50 dollar bill. "W..what does the letter say?" Emilee asked leaning forward, her cape from her costume making an soft rustling noise in the now silent room. I shrugged and picked up the letter. I read it once to myself and almost cried at what it said:


Dear Trick-or-treater.

Every year I wait for someone to come up that drive way to this house. I've been waiting for almost 20 years. I don't have candy for you, just this money that i have no use for and a story to tell.

My name was Robert E. Marshal. I was 40 when I died of cardiac arrest. My wife Loraine had died almost ten days before. I felt empty after she left me and stopped taking care of me. We never had children, it wasn't possible for us. But we were happy just the two of us.

Halloween was her favorite time of the year. She loved seeing all the children dressed up and asking for Candy. She would smile so wide each time the door bell rang on that night each year. It still brings tears to my eyes to think about it.

Halloween eventually killed her. I had to go away on a business trip one year and foolishly left her for once. She had begged me to let her stay to pass out candy. I agreed and left that morning, expecting to be home the next morning to cuddle with her before sleeping.

I arrived at 5am the next morning. I noticed right away something was horribly wrong. The back door was wide open and there was a smell to the house that made my stomach churn. As I made my way up the stairs to our room. The room where all our love had been made. Where we had tried time and time again to have children I was instantly filled with a fear that I had lost my wife.

My fear was confirmed as I pushed open the door and fell to my knees. There was my wife. My beautiful wife... Tossed on the bed, naked.. strangled.. no longer living. I don't think I moved from that spot for three hours. I was rooted in horror. It hit me. My life I had built so hard to make, the wife I had spent to long to make happy... all if it was over.. It didn't matter any more.

Almost Zombie like I called the police, filled out the forms, played the part of grieving husband, while inside I was empty. Inside I didn't care any more. As the days past I laid in bed watching the leaves falling in the window. Then it happened.

It was 2 maybe 3 in the morning on November 10th. I was still awake, looking at old photo's of me and my wife when I saw her. Almost like a dream or a vision she appeared to me at the foot of the bed. "Run Jack, Leave." She said, her angelic voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. "Loraine?" I asked sitting up and looking at her. "Jack.. Go.. Run.." She said again, then vanished.

I sat stunned. Was i going crazy? Did I really just see the spirit of my dead wife? Shaking my head and I got up and headed down stairs to get a drink. There was a knock on the door and I jumped high in the air. I hadn't had a guest over in almost a month it felt. Shaking still from the scare I opened the front door and stood confused at my neighbor before me.

Before I could say a word I felt something wrap around my arm and he grabbed me and pulled me inside slamming the door behind us. He chuckled as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and began to slash at me. I tried to stop him, but only received a few slashes on the arm and hand.

I felt the cold metal on my neck and closed my eyes. My angel was crying as she watched me die. But I was smiling I'd be with her soon right?


"Wow...... is this for real?" David asked grabbing the letter from me. "Yes it's real. David give it back!" Emilee said looking up from the pillow she was cuddling. I sighed and snatched it from him. "Now.. where was I?" I asked skimming the letter. I found my spot in the letter and hushed my friends as I began to continue the story:

I was wrong. So wrong. As this man sat on me slashing away what was left of my body, I felt as if I were hovering over it. Watching what was happening as if I were watching a movie. Everything felt fake, everything felt empty. As my body closed it's eyes for the last time I hovered above it crying.

The police arrived the next morning after the milk delivery person noticed my body. I was charted out of the house and the neighbors were questioned. I watched angrily as the man who killed me played cool talking to the police as his daughter stood beside him.

Weeks went by and slowly turned into months which trickled into years. I had been dead for two years before he moved away. I was trapped in this house as if there were saran wrap around every exit. No matter how hard I tried I could never get past the front porch. I had no idea why I was still here. Do I need to be saved still? Must I find that man before I can rest peacefully?

I wandered the house alone for years before they demolished it. But it stayed to me. To me it never went away. Each year, on the day of my wifes death; Halloween. I sit on the front porch of my house waiting for someone to come and see me. I just want someone to hear my story so I can rest. I feel weary. I want to see my wife again.

I don't know what you will do with this story... You can take it to the police. You can keep it to yourself... but just writing this down has made me feel more ready. Ready to go. The outside of the house shines brightly with a possible way home. Home. I can't wait to go home.

Thank you for reading this. Please take this small token of apprication. This money. 50 dollars for three kids. That's how many kids Loraine had always wanted. Spend it on anything you want.

-Jack E. Marshal. Dead 1988.



I wiped my eyes and looked up again. "Holy crap... I..I..I don't get it... If this guy wrote it... wouldn't he be dead?" Emilee asked shaking her head and grabbing the letter. David jumped up and opened the other two bags and skimmed the letters. "It's all the same in both bags...." He said holding up two 50 dollar bills. I bit my lip and jumped up, my horns shining the light and grabbed my sweater.

"Where are you going?" Emilee asked watching me. "I'm going to talk to this guy." I said opening the door and heading into the night. Emilee and David jumped up and ran after me, locking the front door behind us. Together the three of us headed back through town to the place where we remembered seeing the house.

I stopped at the empty lot and opened my eyes wide as a gust of wind blew my hair across my face. pushing it back behind my ear I shook my head. "No way... No way in hell..." I muttered seeing the empty lot with nothing but a broken old wheelchair sitting in the middle of the weeds and trash.

Slowly we walked into the lot and up to the wheel chair. David shined his flash light on it and Emilee pointed to a name on it. "Look." She said wiping dirt off a name on the arm. I knelt down and grabbed Davids flash light and gasped at the name.

ROBERT E. MARSHAL.


Final notes: I couldn't really think of better ending. xD But this is what I came up with after trick or treating last night.

I have written you a story!
Username: Lilith W
Preferred Participation Prize: random
Title: Candy
Submission:

SPOILERX

A young woman leaned against a tree waiting. She had long blue hair and bright blue make-up. She wore thigh high black boots, blue tights, a black short skirt, a blue tank top, a black jacket, and giant black butterfly wings with blue dots. At any other time she would have looked weird and out of place but on this day she fit in. It was the great day of Halloween.
She straightened up as a little girl walked up to her. She was dressed as a pink flower.
"Where's Billy? We have to hurry up or we'll miss all the good candy," the butterfly asked the flower.
"He's coming. Mom had some trouble with his costume. Just cool your tights Izzy," the flower told the butterfly.
"Hey, it is sister not Izzy. And it looks like he is here," a boy dressed as a flyswatter walks up, "good you could join us Billy. Megg, Billy remember not to run off. Let’s go." Izzy straightened her hair then turned to walk down the block. The kids ran to get in front of her. They went to several houses grabbing candy and screaming "Trick or Treat". They had walked several blocks when they came upon the house that no one ever went to. It was said to be haunted but Izzy didn't really believe that. She had snuck in the year before only to find it empty and boring. But a few weeks prior to Halloween someone had moved in. Of course the story had been that he must be a vampire because not only had he moved in at night he had also never been seen out. Izzy started walking up to the house.
“We can’t go in there Iz,” Billy told his sister.
“Hey it is Halloween. There are lights on. That means I get candy. I don’t care if the person giving it to me is an undead vampire or even if he is a zombie and only cares about brains. I will get candy. And don’t call me Iz.” She kept walking up to the house. When she reached the door she waited for the kids to catch up then knocked on the door.
The door slowly swung open. Izzy called inside. “Anyone here? Trick or Treat?”
“Please come in. Walk down the hall. I will be there in a second,” a voice said from inside the house.
Izzy looked at Meg and Billy before stepping inside. “Don’t worry. I’m much scarier than any ghost or demon.”
They walked inside. Izzy walked down the hall followed by the kids. It seemed that the hallway was extremely long. Suddenly the lights went off. There were no windows and they could see nothing. Izzy pulled the kids behind her against the wall. She pressed them back into the wall and placed herself in-between them and the world. Izzy felt something wrap around her arm. Without thinking she grabbed what was attached to her arm and yanked it off then dropped it. She swung her arm back then punched forward. She hit something before she heard a loud “hump” then heard something land hard on the floor. Suddenly the lights came back on. Lying on the floor was a young man rubbing his cheek.
“Geez, why’d you do that? I was just trying to guide you to the kitchen.”
“Why’d the lights go off?” Izzy had didn’t drop her fighting stanch or back away from the wall.
“It’s an old house. I’ve been trying to fix it but it is taking time. What did you think? That I planned on killing you guys and eating your eyes?” He slowly stood up.
“I’m sorry. Too many horror movies. Come on guys.”
Izzy followed the man into the kitchen. He handed out candy and apologized. Izzy apologized before passing her number to him. “Call me if you decided you need some help or company.” She winked at him before grabbing the kids and running down the hall and out of the house.
They finished Trick or Treating then walked home. A couple days later Izzy got a phone call from the spooky vampire.

Final notes: just randomness lol

I have written you a story!
Username: Winged One
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange
Title: REAP
Submission:

SPOILERX

[00/23bh76//:;ttLMAT]::://RECORDED MESSAGE FROM: HARVESTER SURVEY SHIP: D-MAST CLASS: Mountain’s Summit – CAPTAIN: [[///ERROR TYPE 39: CORRECT ENCRYPTION CODE MUST BE SUBMITTED TO VIEW NAME\\\]]

General [[///REDACTED\\\]],

Operation Sow is turning into all we could ask for.

When we finally branched out from our crowded homeworld to colonize and develop new planets several millennia ago, we of course needed a substantial source of food to sustain our ever-growing population. This is why we enacted Operation Sow. This is why we designated select planets as Farms.

We grew food on these planets so we, as a species, would not starve.

And now, after all this time, the planet my fleet has been surveying, [[///REDACTED: IMPROPER SECURITY CODE\\\]], has reached the saturation point. This planet, designated as a Flora Fauna Farm, has been difficult to study because of a top predator forming and nearly eradicating all other animal life, so the saturation point was always neared, but never reached. However, this predator alone has now brought the Farm to saturation levels. Flora levels, while paling in comparison to fauna levels created by this predator, are likewise optimal.

Because of this unforeseen predator, there is obviously a lack of selection from this Farm for Reaping. We, my fleet, tried and tried again to intervene and keep their numbers low so variety could be preserved. However, every time an attempt to cut their numbers was made, the predator “knew” of our intervention. They felt something wrap around their arm, their hunting arm, and they quickly shook off the burden. With ease, I might add.

This species has achieved technological tier 4, an unprecedented technological level for Farm grown fauna. They may have indeed reached sentience, which raises ethical and moral questions on whether we should Reap the species and slaughter them for sustenance. However, they were indeed grown in culture as a food source, and are therefore ultimately fair for us to hunt.

I respectfully propose the following course of action:

1. C.U.R.S.E. (Carbon-Urea Ray for Sentience Elimination): Using C.U.R.S.E. on the planet may be necessary, if only to quell animal rights protestors. The C.U.R.S.E. effectively eliminates sentient thought upon contact with the species it has been tailored for (in this case, the main species which developed on this Farm). Reaping the biological entities on the Farm will therefore be more humane. The C.U.R.S.E. will also physically weaken the species. Seeing as they are the top predator on the Farm, this will be a very important factor to ensure our own safety when we start the Reaping.
2. Orbital Bombardment and Planet-Wide Weather Alteration: The species present on the Farm should be herded into small crowded areas in order to facilitate our ends. Orbital bombardment with Class 7 Vulcan MACs and weather pattern alteration should be enough to coerce the species to do just this.
3. Disease Testing: We must assure the safety of the meat and produce before we circulate it to our planets and colonies. Therefore, I strongly suggest we test samples from the flora and fauna for known diseases, as well as quality.
4. Ma$s Reaping: The Reaping process sh0uld be carri3d out from both po!es. P0sit1on b0th R3@p3r $@t3!!1t3s @t 31th3r %@#$ kopkdkkkkk [[///WARNING: CRITICAL MESSAGE CORRUPTION DETECTED\\\]]
[[///ATTEMPTING MESSAGE RESTORE…………………….........FAILED\\\]]
[[///CONTINUING MESSAGE FROM NEXT STABLE POINT\\\]]
which should leave only 10% of the original flora and fauna on the planet.
5. Exportation: Meat and produce retrieved from Reaping should be distributed via interstellar transport to individual planet redistribution organizations.
6. Hunting: Fence in animals present on Farm to restrict them to specific areas of land. Open the planet to the general public for recreational hunting.

The above process should be commenced as soon as possible.

FARM NAME: [[///REDACTED\\\]]
FARM DESIGNATION: FLORA AND FAUNA
CORE FLORA: NO DOMINANT FLORA
CORE FAUNA: HOMOSAPIEN (COLLOQUIALLY “HUMAN”)

Final notes: None, it is what it is.


I have written you a story!
Username: Lunarshinobi
Preferred Participation Prize: The Blue one?
Title: Shadow Play
Submission:

SPOILERX

Tick...


Tock


Tick..

Tock

The students eyes were fastened to the clock, not moving, not blinking, not thinking. Just, staring. Blank, unseeing eyes gazing at nothing at all yet still boring into the clock. A sea of pale, uncaring individuals trapped in the class by forces unknown. The teacher's voice echoed vaguely in the background but was muffled by the thick, burdensome air, rendering him all but unheard. The tension was clotted enough to run your fingers though. A murk clearly visible curled around the students, stifling their movement, keeping them still. Trapped, watching the time with eyes that watched but didn't see.


The bell rang, a empty sound that swept through the hollow rooms, echoing into hollow people. The students were still for a few seconds before bursting into a hive of activity. They swarmed in a violent flurry of movement and noise. Those eyes gazed forward. Those empty, thoughtless eyes.


The teacher moved slower, waiting until the room was empty, filled only with the thick air that never moved. The professor stood up, pushing in his old, worn chair. His movements were slow, weighed down. He picked up an old, warn book, sliding it into his old, worn messenger back. His name, stitched into the strap was as tattered as the rest of him. Jeremy Lond. Mr. Lond looked down at the desk, his eyes filled with a forlorn sorrow. Pain rested on his shoulders, a cumbrous unseen wraith. His hand, gnarled and calloused, reached down to pick up an antique bronze pocket watch. He thrust it into his bag as quickly as possible, as if the touch of it singed his skin.


With a rushed step, Mr. Lond waded out of his classroom, the compressed air grabbing at him with invisible claws, tugging him back into the classroom, suffocating him. He pushed the air back, breaking out of the room and into the hallway, his sigh reverberating through the empty building.
It was his fault. All his fault. Everything that happened, he was to blame. They were gone, they were all, gone. And it was his fault. He could've said no, could've walked away, he could've thrown it into the lake or off a cliff. But he kept it. Why. did he keep it why.

The students waited outside the school, raising a silent clamor. They ambled slowly around the grounds, waiting for rides that would never come, boarding buses that would never move, never take them home, never bring them back. Never.


They didn't seem to notice, to care, that they were never going to leave. They gazed ahead with their blank, unseeing eyes, occasionally pausing near one another to open their mouths, unleashing meaningless nothing into the abyss. Once it passed into the still, thick misty air, they moved on, unable to stay still, unable to stop.

Mr. Lond hurried past them, unnoticed. He gripped his bag tightly in his hand, staring at the ground as if he expected it to rise up and swallow him. Perhaps he wished that it would. Mr. Lond wasn't sure. It was too much to think on. To think about. To think of. The guilt that he wallowed through took his concentration away. Left him flailing against the quicksand, slowly losing hope… Hope that was never there. Hope that was stolen.

He swerved quickly to avoid a student, his heavy guilt filled eyes meeting their empty mindless ones. Eyes that seared into him, breaking his already shattered heart.

Mr. Lond took off running, desperately throwing himself into his car. He curled against his steering wheel, his body shaking with soundless sobs, his already tear stained carpet was starting to become overwhelmed, bowling outward from the weight of his agony.

The streets were filled with a soundless lament, so caked onto the streets it kept the car stuck in a slow, grinding pace. They homes passed stared after him with black pit eyes and doors cracked open, allowing musty breath to hiss out, the sound haunting after Lond's car, gripping the bumper, sliding into the windows, slowing down the already sluggish engine. Time stretched out before Mr. Lond, forcing him to go through the struggle with each and every one of the lifeless husks that lined the streets.

His house waited for him at the end of the street, cradled in the rusty culdesac . He shakily stepped out of his car, the darkness waiting in the windows far deeper than that which waited in the other houses. The door opened with a mocking creak, the shadows reaching to pull him inside, to drag him closer. It was his fault they mocked, whispering into his thoughts, flashing before his eyes. He caused this. He caused this. He caused.

This.

His wife, Maria, stood before the stove, busy at work, cooking in a large pot, the homespun scent spun away by the inky shadows that lurked below. He walked up to her, shakily holding out his hand to touch her shoulder.

Tick...

Tock....


He froze, his finger tips so close to her it hurt. He drew his hand back, and turned around. His bag lay open on the table, the flap open, the contents revealed. He could see it, the bronze reflecting in the pale light, the ivory face, the ebony arms, a blank stare filled with ominous force.
The message sent was clear. The shadows pulsed, quivering. He rushed out of the room, desperate to avoid the pocket watch that called him, that demanded his presence.

It was his fault. All his fault.

The shadows hissed after him, hoarse soundless laughs echoing in his ear, haunting his steps. They pulled his legs, bringing him down, crashing onto the floor with a resounding thud. He curled up in both pain and helplessness. Maria danced out of the kitchen, gently swaying as she moved, a peaceful expression lighting her face. But the warmth was discolored by those empty eyes. Mr. Lond reached towards her, tears pooling in his eyes. His hand shook as she passed right through him, heading into another room with that quiet, empty smile.


Tick.


Tock.


All his fault.


He threw himself to his feet, running to the kitchen. He pulled the pocket watch out, flipping it over and scowling at it. That terrible word was etched across the back, the letters curling together with an intricate flair. An evil mocked him from those stylized letters. The shadows slid up his back and murmured in his ear.

Shadowplay.

Tick


Tock.


Tick

Tock.

All his fault. He had seen the watch in the pawn shop. The owner had never seen it before, warned Mr. Lond against it, but Mr. Lond just had to buy it. It was an antique! Unique, one of a kind, he had never seen anything like it ever before.


Tick

Tock


He had chosen to take it home, to put it on a chain, to carry it everywhere. He constantly fiddled with it, setting the time, resetting the time, carefully running his fingertips over the clock face. He became obsessed. It became his life.


Tick


Tock

He was tinkering with the back when he uncovered a teen button, almost unnoticeable. He carefully pressed the button with a pair of freezers. Almost immediately, time seemed to slow, the air thickened and suddenly became heavy. Mr. Lond stared at the watch, confused.


Tick

Tock


A low chuckle rose from behind Mr. Lond. He spun around, startled. There was nothing but the shadowy blackness of his basement workroom. The lamp beside him flickered, and the laughter rose again. "So, it's you that has my watch." Mr. Lond turned around, frightened. "Who's there?!" He demanded, From the darkness emerged, a tall, pale woman into the darkness. A black dress hugged loosely around her shoulders, draping down around her. Her eyes stood out, a deep blood red that pierced into Mr. Lond's very soul. "W-who are you?" she just smiled. "I am Tick, the spirit that resides in the watch." Mr. Lond looked back at the watch. The backing was still off, laying to the side. The letters glittered darkly.

"Shadowplay." Tick murmured. "What does that mean?" Mr. Lond asked, alarmed by her proximity. "It's a game silly! And you just started playing!"

Tick

Tock

He ran down the hallway, huffing as he went. The clock. He had to reach the clock in his classroom, before time ran out. It was so hard. Tick kept pausing his time, kept forcing him to stay still, kept mocking him. Her transparent form danced in front of him, laughing as he ran. He threw himself into the classroom, jumping onto his chair, reaching for the clock.

Tick

Tock

Time stopped again. His fingers just an inch away from the clock. He felt something wrap around his arm, holding his finger tips still, mocking him with their proximity to the goal. He had been stopped. Tick hovered near his ear, laughing.

Tick

Tock

No, no no no.

Tick

Tock

"Time's. Up."

It was all his fault. He started the game, and lost. Tick killed them all. Their bodies lay everywhere, broken and battered. It wasn't enough either. Tick cursed him, trapped him in the town, forced them to watch their spirits wander around, going about their lives, never able to stop, never able to rest in peace. He couldn't even leave his house. He had to spend every day across from the table, from the skeleton of his beloved Maria, her now white skull grinning at him from oblivion while her soul continued its daily tasks.

Tick

Tock


Mr. Lond screamed, flinging the watch across the room. Tick smiled and caught it in her hand.
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" His shrieks echoed, starling the spirits, amusing the shadows. Tick's laughter followed after, adding a chill to the air.
"But my dear Mister Lond, Time, is up."

Tick


Tock.

Tick



Tock


The town was silent as she drove through the town. There was absolutely no sign of life, and there was a thick, cool fog everywhere, despite it having been two in the afternoon in May.
She bit back a scream as she passed a row of houses, their yards scattered with human bones and tattered clothes. What happened here?

She jammed her foot down on the break, tearing the keys out of the ignition and stepping out of the car. There was a creaking that echoed through the fog. She found herself shaking as she watched his corpse swing back and forth in the nonexistent wind.

Tick


Tock



She looked down and spied a pocketwatch lying on the ground. Such a beautiful, bronze pocketwatch. She picked it up, glancing at the corpse. "I'm getting the hell out of here."
As the car sped out of the city, the dark mist slowly lifted, taking the evil of the town with it.
A new game had begun.

Tick

Tock


Final notes: I was inspired by an old pocketwatch I saw in a store.

I have written you a story!
Username: crazymuch
Preferred Participation Prize: yellow goodie bag?
Title: Port Bay
Submission:

SPOILERX

Every harbor town across the world has a similar urban legend. You know the one, about a ghost ship that appears in the bay on Halloween night and whatever poor soul sees it is cursed to meet a watery grave before the sun comes up the next morning. Well, I, like every smart person on the planet never believed it.

Hi, my name is Helen. I am 16 and went to Port Bay High. I was a regular girl leading a regular life. You know, with the parents that think I'm too young to do anything but too old to slack off on anything they put in front of me. I got good grades and was on the Pep Squad, but I didn't have a car. You see, I had to be able to pay my own insurance and gas to get to have a car, but I had to have a job to earn those things and I needed a car to get where I'd need to go to afford the car ... can anyone else see the problem here?

Anyway, it was Halloween night and my best-friend Gayle and I had plans to do a little trick-or-treating. You see, we are both rather short for our age ... but the truth is we figured if we were going to do the leg work, we deserve candy just as much as the little kids! So we suited up in our zombie Lolita costumes (I was in pink) and were running along the docks to get to the rich neighborhoods on the other side of town when, and to this day I still have no idea why, I looked out on the bay. And, you got it, I saw a boat. Just like out of a pirate movie or something, but instead of Johnny Depp, all I had to see was a misty shape standing below the tattered sails of an old ship just sorta drifting in the water. I thought it had to be some kind of awesome prank and so I grabbed Gayle's arm and pointed out to the bay. But by the time I looked back, it was gone.

Well, I shrugged it off. Probably thinking too much about the story in the back of my mind or from watching one too many spooky movies earlier in the evening. So off we went! But I kid you not, every so often I could have sworn I heard dripping sounds! Like how when it rains and you can hear it patter in little puddles on the street, but when I'd look back there wouldn't be anything there.

Gayle thought for sure I was acting the way I was just to spook her. Spook her? Heck, I was the one getting spooked! But the last thing I expected was when I felt something wrap around my arm! I gave a scream and leaped forward and turned to look behind us. Gayle gave out peels of laughter and I saw she was the one who had done it! Gayle with her darn cold clammy hands! That was it and I really tore into her about it! Finally I had vented off my terrified anger and she appologized and we started off again.

Once we hit the rich part of town and started cashing in on candy, I forgot all about being cursed ... at least mostly. I did notice myself looking out at the bay each time I snaked a peek of the harbor between the houses. But I still didn't see anything and that made me feel more secure.

Many hours and houses later we finally dragged our sore feet and candy laden bags back to my house just before midnight. HAHA! a half hour before curfew! But my folks said Gayle couldn't stay the night because we had church in the morning. Something about her being a different religion or something, I don't know. So they all piled in the car and left to give her a ride home. While they were gone I went to my room to gorge myself on candy and watch more scary movies.

I was about half an hour into my movie (you know, the one where the girl comes out of the well and kills people) when I heard something at my window. I tried to ignore the tapping but all the hairs on my body were already on end and I could feel my scalp trying to crawl off my head. I even felt cold and clammy, like the air was too humid or something. So I grabbed my top blanket around my body, what little courage I had, and walked over to the window to peer out between the curtains. I gave a shriek as, what I first thought to be a skeletal finger tapping on my window turned out to be a tree limb from the willow tree outside. Yes, I had defintly watched one too many scary movies.

It wasn't until I got back on my bed that I realized the wind wasn't blowing outside! And that it was taking too long for my parents to get back from Gayle's house. Of course! I thought, they were all playing a prank on me, so figured I'd go out there and give them a scare for their efforts. I got dressed quickly and snuck out the back door and quietly edged my way around the side of the house to where my window was. And sure enough, there was somebody moving the branch. It wasn't until I had snuck up closer that I realized it wasn't anyone I recognized and I could see right through him!

Without moving his back became his front and I got a face full of his leering countenance. His jaw was hanging on only at one side and his eyes were gone. A gore-filled gash took up the whole side of his face where the jaw wasn't attached. He was wearing a simple shirt and britches. I couldn't tell you what color, they all seemed to be of the same nondescript scary movie gray. He seemed vary solid and yet I could still see through him at the same time.

My heart skipped several beats as the smell of things dead and rotten in the sea wafted at me from his lopsided face. I opened my mouth but all that came out was a tiny croaking moan. First he was several yards away and suddenly he was right in front of me, grabbing me by my forearms and pulling me close, water dripping from his clothes and hair onto me. My first thoughts were that it was only 1am, the dawn was a long way off, my parents still weren't home, and I was doomed.

His grip was like iron and I felt like jelly all over. There was no way I could have fought back, even if my brain had been able to dredge up that idea; which it didn't. All my brain could churn up in that numb state was to ask silently again and again, why me? I was a good person. Why not Gayle? Yes, that's right, I was more than willing to throw Gayle to the winds than be taken off myself. But hey, who wouldn't?

It felt like we were standing outside my house one minute and then we were at the docks without having taken a single step or gasp of breath. I looked out to the harbor and was horrified that the ship wasn't out at the bay, it was right next to the dock! That was the point where my lungs suddenly felt like lead balloons and no amount of coughing could free them. Water began to pour from my nose and mouth and I couldn't breath. I felt myself being thrown backwards with imense force. I remember hitting my head against solid wood that I believe was the side of the ship and then everything was water and black.

My next memory was sitting here, in this cabin on the ship. Everything is solid and real now. But it is still old and torn and tattered and rotten. The smell fills my nostrils constantly and I am never warm or dry. Like I said,my name is Helen. I am 16 and went to Port Bay High. I was a regular girl leading a regular life. I will always be 16, but I'll never see Port Bay High. I'll never even see Gayle. The only times I'll ever see anything of Port Bay will be on Halloween nights. All I know is, aside from the cabin boy who brought me here, I am alone. I sure hope somebody sees my ship this year. I am so lonely.

Final notes: I hope I didn't bore you!

I have written you a story!
Username: Fauxreal
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue
Title: Homesick
Submission:

SPOILERX

The image through the camera was like salt and pepper. Echo’s hair looked like it had been bleached completely white. Shadow’s hair was so black it looked almost purple and blue. Both girls had spiked their hair in back with a tiny row of bangs hiding their eyes. The twins loved their new toy, a photographer that used them as his favorite subject. Echo wore solid black. Shadow was in white. Robert’s camera wouldn’t stop clicking.
“Girls, this is amazing. Look straight at each other… great!”
The twins stared at each smiling. It had always been twins. Their family knew that these two were born it wasn’t a coincidence. It was always like this and had been for centuries. Their mother was a twin. Their father was also a twin. Like the famous star-crossed lovers, families trying to keep them apart – only to drive them closer. Together. Then, the twins. The Mirror Twins. Exact mirror images of each other.
“Echo, could you please raise your arms? Shadow, arms down please.” His camera didn’t stop. “How did you girls get those names anyway?”
The twins grinned and stared at each other, speaking a language only they could understand. Shadow answered, “We come from a family of gypsies.” Echo whispered, “gypsies…”
The way they looked eerily into the camera and directly into Robert’s eyes, he felt cold. Robert blinked and Shadow was behind him. Echo started dancing in front of the photographer’s camera. Robert jumped and jumped forward.

The girls laughed.

Shadow seemed to glide back to her swaying sister. “Would you like a refreshment Robert?” Echo’s voice was barely a whisper as she twirled to the beverages.
“Yes please. Something strong.” Echo poured him something amber into a glass and sailed over to hand him the cup. That seemed to make everything fine for a while… till Robert got curious again.

“You two say that hair color is real?” CLICK – FLASH CLICK – “Level with me girls. How often does it take to keep those colors like that?” He felt protected behind his camera.
“It really is natural sir. You see it’s actually part of a curse.” Echo was relaying the information. “Both our parents were sets of twins you see. When we were born the village thought we were bad luck.” Shadow started to speak, “Our mother named us after our powers.”

Robert felt something wrap around his arm.

Shadow’s hand grabbed Robert. Robert’s arm started to turn black. His flesh began to rot and fall off the bone. Echo quickly took hold of him, his arm started to reappear. Echo then apologized. “Sir your arm will never be the same… merely and echo of what it once was.” Robert squeezed his fingers and rotated his wrists. She was right. When Robert looked up in horror at the girls, they had vanished. He was standing outside his own house. He ran inside to it’s safety.

Final notes: I like to listen to the Cure while I write. <3


I have written you a story!
Username: Nephila
Preferred Participation Prize: The orange Goodie Bag please.
Title: Undying Love
Submission:

SPOILERX



This hunger is a pain so painful it makes me numb. My body moves of it's own accord now. I never sleep nor do I dream. I can't feel the torn flesh hanging off my face or the deep gashes on my legs. There is only one thing I think about now. Feeding the hunger. In the moment of feeding I feel alive again. With the warm blood on my lips I can see her eating across from me like it was before. The face of the last person I saw before this state of existence was forced upon me. The only one that mattered before this, curse of undeath.

How did I get this way? I suppose not much different than any other victim of the curse. I was walking to the corner store with my daughter. She had done well in her studies on that terms report card and we were going to celebrate with a treat.

" Can I stay up late tonight and watch a movie with you mommy?"
" Not tonight honey, maybe on Friday."
" Ok. Can we watch a scary movie this time?"
" I don't know you might get bad dreams."
" Aw please? The boys at school all said they watched Ghostship and it had a little girl ghost in it."
" Lets talk about it when we get home."

We proceeded to pay for our goodies and a bit of shopping for tomorrows dinner. I looked around every where and couldn't see the shop keeper.

"Hello?"

When I moved my arm across the desk to ring the bell I felt something wrap around my arm. It was teeth. He bite me! The shop owner bite me!

"Whats wrong with you!? It this how you treat your customers? Common honey lets go somewhere else."

As we stepped out the door the shop owner not only began to follow us, but managed to bite my daughter leg. If I had only known what was going on around me I never would have taken her out of the house. Things were falling apart all around the world and quickly. As we were pursued my daughter and I ran. I felt dizzy and strange while running. Not the usual out of breathe feeling. It was something else, it was the feeling of death coming up behind me. To our horror two more people started to follow us along with the old shop keep.

We made it to the house. I immediately went to call the police to no avail. The lines were dead. We were both terrified of the strangers at our door. I put the tv on and switched it to the news channel. Watching in horror as I realized it was to late to save myself and my daughter from this new plague curse.

I watched the world fell away from me. The room spun as I hit the ground. Feeling my heart stop was the most painful thing I had ever felt and it didn't stop hurting after death. Though it did move from my heart to my stomach. Such huger.

In the back of what I have left in my mind is how horrible my daughter pain must be. And now we both sit here with each other hands clutched in a death grip of undying love. We're together, and maybe that's all that matters. Daddy will be home soon. We're so very hungry. . .




Final notes: Inspired by cough syrup and watching far to many zombie movies while I'm sick. The premise is a woman dealing with the haunting memory of her daughter's pain, while dealing with her own curse. Her curse of being undead.


I have written you a story!
Username: Fading Existence
Preferred Participation Prize: Any
Title: Untitled
Submission:

SPOILERX

Softly, he padded into the large, abandoned mansion on the hillside after squeezing his body in through the small hole he had made through a lose plank in the wall outside. Spiderwebs and thick dust coated every surface, and he sneezed three times in disgust.

Why did he come here again?

Oh, right, to avoid those annoying pestering fans, always trying to get into his hair while squealing and flailing and making obnoxious noises and in general being a nuisance.

He sighed.

Then coughed when his breath brought up another mass of flying dust.

Quickly, he leapt away from the area with a few bounds of his feet, reaching the stairway leading up. He might as well explore this strange place while he's still stuck here, anyway. He could still hear the fans squealing and searching for him outside.

He never understood the allure of Halloween. What's so interesting about it? All the thick disgusting make up? The ridiculous outfits people put themselves into? Staying up all night tiring themselves out before collapsing in the morning? Eating those colored sweets that he found chokingly unbearable on his tongue?

People were just strange. He'll probably never understand them.

Putting the thoughts aside, he walked up the stairs, taking in the surroundings. Everything looked old. Really, really, anciently old. The stairs creaked, the banisters were cracked and chipped, the chandelier above was missing several piece of crystal and hanging crookedly from the ceiling. The pictures hanging on the walls were blurred and ripped.

Vaguely, he wondered why he had never seen this place during all those times he wandered around in the community of Menewsha.

At the top of the stairs, a small door stood erected. It was slightly opened, leaving a crack, and an ominous darkness poured from within. He shuddered.

Should he enter? Or should he leave? This place gave him a bad feeling. But then, considering how that bad feeling compared to the feeling those fans, who were no doubt still looking for him outside, gave him, this was trivial.

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and entered.

And blinked.

It was a completely ordinary-looking room. For a child, it seems. There was a crib and a cradle in a corner, covered with gray dust, and the faded wallpaper appeared to be patterned with miniature fish bones and furry balls. He admired the owner's taste. There was also a drawer against a wall, and a closet behind it. Oddly, it looked as though the drawer had been shifted over to the closet to block it...

People always said that 'curiosity kills the cat', and he never believed it. His curiosity had always served him fine. And right now his curiosity is at its breaking point, nudging him, begging him to go and see what exactly lies within the depths of the closet.

He slipped over to the drawers, after making sure that no other object within the room perked his interest, and tried to shove the thing out of the way. No such luck. The drawers were ancient and looked heavy. He tried opening the drawers, to perhaps empty them of their contents as to lighten the weight of the furniture, but they appeared to be jammed.

Damn it.

He nudged, he tugged, he even bit the thing, but the drawers simply refused to budge.

His curiosity was eating him alive.

Letting out a frustrated hiss, he was thinking of charging at it to see if he could collide into it and possibly knock it aside for even just an inch.........when he saw that the legs of the drawers were damaged, and that the entire thing was actually very much top-heavy at the moment and a proper shift in the right direction could topple it to the side, leaving the door to the closet (at least partially,) clear.

Aha.

With that, he got to work. He did his best to make the splinters as large as possible, he thinned the wood down as much as he could, and he tugged and yanked and pulled and pushed. Finally, with an ominous groan, the thing crashed over. He barely avoided being crushed under it, having been on his belly working on the legs of the drawer.

And the way to the closet was clear.

Feeling triumphant, he leapt over the fallen drawer and to the door, pulling on the handle of the closet and letting it creak open on its own. He had always been quite proud of his eyesight, but even with his eyes as good as they were, he couldn't see past a foot inside the small space. He wondered what was inside.

Slowly, he made his way into the closet. The moon was shining through a broken window in the room, but the light made little way into the darkened space of the closet. There was also a strange rattling sound coming from somewhere in the darkness, as though someone with a serious respiratory problem was wheezing on dust.

Slowly, slooowly, he inched inside. The rattling noise got louder.

And suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him.

An inhuman yowl came from his throat as he frantically ran back over to the door, trying to open it, scrabbling at the wood, but the thing would not open. The rattling noise got even louder.

And louder. And louder. And louder.

Desperate, he slammed himself against the door, trying to open the thing by brute force, but only got a bruised shoulder for his troubles.

And then, he felt something wrap around his arm.


"MEEEEEEEEOOWWWW!!!!!!"


---


"Hey, uh, you think he's going to be alright?" Asked Fan #2865, staring down at the prone form lying in bed at the Menewsha hospital.

"'Course he is." Answered Fan #302, one of the senior members of the fanclub.

"He's been out for three days."

"Well, Trick says it had only been a joke. Besides, he was the one who broke into their house, anyway. His vital signs seem stable enough. The doctors said he'll be up and running in no time."

"Are you absolutely sure-"

"For the last time, yes. Treat was apologetic and had brought him his favorite dishes, he'll be fine as soon as he wakes up and sees them."

"I certainly hope so." Fan #2865 sighed.


---


Lying in bed, sore, bruised, and scratched in multiple places, he decided he was never, ever going into unknown people's houses again in the future, chased by fans or not, thought Yumeh the Cat.

Final notes: Inspired by seeing Lise, and then suddenly out of the blue Yumeh just popped up into my head. :lol:


I have written you a story!
Username: PhoenixIllusion
Preferred Participation Prize: Red Treat Bag
Title: Under Your Bed
Submission:

SPOILERX

"Something's under my bed, Mom."

Arisa sighed, looking up from her book and then staring at the cirled form of her husband sharing the bed. "Honey... Geoffry, sweety, you dearest daughter calls." He groaned, rolling over away from her. "Arisa, love, I have to be at work early. Besides, our little angel is best to be put to bed by another, right?"

Arisa wasn't sure if she should feel complimented or just smack him. She sighed, however, knowing she went to work later than her spouse, and exited the warm embrace of the bed. She was tired, so tired. Halloween night had been hectic, chasing her daughter around and hiding the candy treasure spoils from her little pirate angel, as the girl had said. She took her daughters hand, and all irrtiation vanished as she felt the child tremble.

Arisa smiled down at little Claire as she led her back to her room. "Now little angel, there's nothing to fear. There's no monster as long as Mommy and Daddy are in the house. Remember the monster you said was in the closet?" Clair nodded, eyes still wide and teary.

"Y-yeah, bu-but it went under the bed and now it says it'll eat me...!" She whimpered, big fat tears beginning to roll down her plump cheeks. Arisa scooped up her child, hugging her close. "Don't worry, honey, don't worry, it's going to be perfectly fine!" She continued to cuddle the child until she quieted before continuing to the girl's room.

Upon arriving, she took pains to avoid the little toys littering the floor, reminding herself to clean in here. Oh, she couldn't wait until Claire was old enough to start cleaning her own room, some weight off of her-

...What was that? Claire gave a shudder. "Its the monster!"

"No, its not. Its just me." She had shifted a pile of books, that was all. But now she was on edge, for some reason. Then again, it was Halloween, after all. Things tended to be creepier, like how the moon glowed too bright against the large window, how dark the shadows seems, how it looked like the shadows moved, but those were only the swaying trees outside in the wind that was whispering against the glass.

Arisa tucked Claire into bed, hushing her cries. "No worries, little dove, there's nothing to fe-" She felt something wrap around her arm. It couldn't be Claire, she was tucked into bed and...

Something wrapped around her leg as well. And before she could look, they tugged, and suddenly she was on her back, Claire was screaming and something was dragging her. "WHAT THE FU-" Arisa cursed more than she thought she would in her life, daughter screaming for her or her daddy but whatever was pulling her was pulling too fast, pulling her under the bed.

...Oh. Arisa thought as unconiousness began to consume her, last sight red eyes and rows of teeth. There WAS something there.

Final notes: ...Yeah, I had a nightmare about this years ago, all I did was substitute names. @_@ Terribly short, too.


I have written you a story!
Username: The Whitewolf Shaman
Preferred Participation Prize: It's going to charity, you decide.
Title: And I dreamt
Submission:

SPOILERX

I woke to find myself surrounded by darkness.
I was in my room, I know.
Where else would I be?
Surely not still in that place, that dreadful place.

My dreams have grown stranger over the past few weeks, always there, in that place. I don't know how this all began, or why
this is happening, but recently I've been visiting this strange world in my dreams. Its always gray, gloomy, dark and cold.
Cliche, I know, but aren't most dreams?

Anyway, these dreams always begin the same. I'm on a boat, a ship. No, thats not right, its a pirate ship, but there are no
pirates, only me. I'm approaching an island. Am I driving the boat? No, I don't believe I am, the ship seemed to be steering
itself towards this island.

I know what you may be thinking, pirate ship, island... this is a dream about treasure, right? I wish it was. No, I knew
from the first visit that something unnatural lie ahead, why else would this phantom pirate ship be steering itself towards
such a desolate island...

So as I was saying, the ship seemed drawn to this rickety old dock as if it were being pulled, and always comes to a halt
making some incredibly scary creaking noises as it docks. At this point, I know in my mind that I should probably just stay
put and wait until I wake up, but who listens to their conscience when they are dreaming? Within seconds I am walking along
the dock and I look up to see a path leading up a rather steep hill from the dock.

In my dream, I seem to skip the walk, it just takes me from walking along the dock, then suddenly I'm standing at the door
to a seemingly vacant log cabin. Honestly, the cabin itself stands out like a beacon. Surrounded by such gloom, the cabin is
full of color, as if it just didn't belong here. It seemed so innocent, so inviting.

As I said, this cabin seemed vacant. There were no lights on, no curtains, no furnishings to be seen. Even from where I stood
I could tell there couldn't possibly be anyone inside, but strangely enough I reach out and knock, calling out "Trick or
Treat". I'm not sure why, but again, its a dream. I just assume its a subconscious method of opening the door. I'm no expert,
I just know it does the trick.

The front door slowly creaks open and, of course, there is nobody there. Damn curiosity. I enter the empty cabin, and as I
step out of the doorway, the door doesn't slam as one might expect, it just casually shuts, as if I had been invited in by
an old friend, and we were prepared for an evening of reminiscence.

I stood there taking in my surroundings and it is exactly as it looked outside, empty. At first, its silent. No wind, no
creaking boards, just silence. Then, suddenly, I felt something wrap around my arm. It was icy cold, and firm.

The first time I felt this, I woke up, but as time went on, the dream continued. Tonight was the longest... the scariest.

After the mysterious cold grip of my arm, the voices come. Soft whispering, always the same "follow me" and "I need you."
The voices swim through my mind over and over, and I can feel my arm being pulled, so I follow. I'm lead up a flight of
stairs, and into a room.

The room is as empty as the rest of the cabin, with one exception. Standing in the middle of the room is a large bed. Its
one of those beds with the drapes, you know the one. Its the same bed that seems to appear all the time in freaky movies.
You know the main character is going to pull aside the drapes, and something incredibly scary is hiding behind it. Well here
I have no choice.

As I approached the bed, the drapes pull themselves aside, just as casually as the door had shut earlier.

Laying on the bed is a black teddy bear, and the voice returns. "My gift to you, my love."

Lately, this is where I have been waking up, but tonight... tonight I accepted the gift. I reached out and touched the bear.
I picked the bear up and I ran my fingers over its soft fur. Mesmerized by the small gift, I was unaware of its frailty, and
as I stroked the bears head, it seperated and fell back to the bed, and a scream echoed through my entire body before I
woke.

So here I am, in my bed, but something else is here... whats this?

I walk to the light switch and flip it on. There, on my bed, is that...

A bouquet of flowers. A card. What does it say?

I read it:

"My beloved, nothing can tear us apart now."

But there is more... on my pillow, it wasn't there before. I was just there! Where did it come from... that bear!

Final notes: I think you'll know where my inspiration came from once you have read this one Lise!


I have written you a story!
Username: Whisper Invictus
Preferred Participation Prize: Green Goodie bag, please :)
Title: Stacy, Don't hit the Bear- He Has Toilet Paper!
Submission:

SPOILERX

The dim lighting was the perfect place to doze off. But being midterms, Stacy Capp could not afford to sleep. Leaning back over the books, she began scribbling notes once again.

A few minutes passed, the clock on the wall ticking slowly by. Setting her pencil down, she sighed and stretched her fingers. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute... Putting her head on her arm, she closed her eyes....

- - -

Stacy jumped from her chair as a crack of thunder from outside shook the floor of her dorm. Rubbing her head, she sighed. Stupid weather… She rubber her eyes and looked at the clock. Holy smokes, I’m late!

Grabbing her books from the table she dashed from her room, only to find herself trapped within a maze. She stared for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. Shrugging, she started to run through the maze, and was surprised there were signs for directions. Following the signs for ‘school’ Stacy dashed off. When she finally reached the exit, she looked out at the surroundings. “Umm…”

A large white building loomed in front of her- definitely not her school. She walked slowly towards it, only to find that now she was floating lightly in the air. Finally reaching the front door, she pushed a large red button. “Trick or treat!” After waiting for a bit, she decided to go inside. Walking around the school building she found a sign that said ‘Entrance’ and pointed to a ladder that went to the roof. Climbing up she smiled, reaching the top, and headed toward a small white door.

Suddenly, a large brown bear bounded out from behind the door entrance. Throwing her hands in the air, Stacy ran towards her car, which was parked conveniently ten feet away from her. She looked back as she lost a slipper and decided she’d come back later for it. Getting in, the car started rolling, but no matter how hard she tried to push the break, it just wouldn’t stop! She drove slowly through the streets that had appeared in front of her, all the while trying to stop the car with the break and the emergency stick. Finally, the car came to a stop and she jumped out, landing on her bed in her room.

She looked around, confused. Getting down from her bed, she glanced at the clock and did a double-take. Five minutes had passed since her catnap. Stacy then saw that she was still sleeping at her desk. Staring at herself, she wondered if waking herself up would be a good idea.

A roar came from the bathroom door and it splintered in half, a large beastly thing entering, covered in toilet paper. Screaming, Stacy tried to run from the toilet paper beast, only to feel something wrap around her arm. She looked down to see the monster’s arm was furry and soft…

Stacy suddenly awoke, a loud rumbling noise vibrating in her ear. She looked over, to see her kitty Goober wrapped up beside her, his tail twitching and rubbing against her arm in his sleep. Petting the kitty, she sighed, rubbing her head. What a weird, random dream… She looked at the clock and jumped up- Goober, being offended by the action, moved to the bed- she was late for real this time!

Grabbing her books, she ran out the door, not noticing that her room was indeed covered in toilet paper…


Final notes: Wow this is such a random stupid story x’D sorry :heart: Thank you for reading my story :) Glad I got the chance- squeezed it in before NanoWrimo <3


I have written you a story!
Username: Casiana
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange
Title: 1254
Submission:

SPOILERX

The night was cool, the air heavy with a coming rain. The sky was pockmarked with wispy gray clouds, the nearly-full moon partially hidden beneath their ghostly tendrils. The streetlamps flickered, sending shadows into convulsions. The laughter, jeers, and screams of costumed children searching for candy rode cheerfully on the wind.
As soon as I stepped through the rickety metal gate of 1254 Larkson Drive, all of that disappeared.
1254 was a simple house, if the Great Wall of China was a simple fence. Two turrets pierced the now black sky. The dark oak double door, shutters, and wrap-around porch contrasted beautifully with the stone brickwork. The large and small windows were blocked by thin curtains, blowing softly inside. The third floor balcony had a single jack-o-lantern placed in one corner, under the sole glowing window. Its toothy grin glowed down at me with characteristic sass.
Mickey's bike was on the front lawn, discarded.
Swallowing a groan, I approached the porch and climbed the stairs. Three days ago she disappeared. Three days ago I began my search. Three days ago I knew she was here. I just wouldn't admit it. To admit it would mean that I had failed my little sister, that I had failed as a brother. A guardian.
The small neighborhood around me writhed in activity. No one paid any attention to 1254. No one had paid attention to it in years. Mickey's fascination with it was a rarity most frowned upon, with good reason. The impossibly true stories behind it fuels nightmares to this day.
I remember when I told my sister about the house. We were at a campfire. My friends and I were attempting to frighten one another with stories, and she had joined in. She asked us to tell her the scariest story we could. She always loved being spooked. So we told her.
"That abandoned house on Larkson Drive?" we began. "Well, it's not quite as abandoned as you would think."
She listened with rapt attention as we told her the stories. It started when Mr. DeMille murdered his wife and boys on Halloween night, framed his best friend, and was eventually killed by said friend in his sleep three years later. The house didn't stay unoccupied for long. The Derman's were found dead in their beds three days after moving in- no one knew how they died and no one knew the cause. The whole situation was pushed under wraps pretty quickly, and another family moved in. The Carr's couple was driven slowly insane after three months of reporting repeated hauntings in the home, and were checked into a psychiatric hospital.
"The scariest part," my friend Matthew whispered, "is that all three families said the same thing after they moved in. The first night they slept in the house, someone always looked outside."
Kameron took over. "And standing in front of the apple tree, they all saw something that stopped their hearts. A young girl, snakes in her hair, fangs in her grin, claws on her nails and warts on her skin."
"In less than a minute, she had turned to dust and vanished," I finished. "Fifty years later, the house is still abandoned, save the demon who never leaves."
I knew by watching her how fascinated she seemed, how wide her eyes became and how tightly her finger wound around her curly golden hair. Even then my stomach churned with doubt. Should I have told her all of this? Probably not, I knew, but lost in the moment I didn't stop. And three days later, I stood on the porch of 1254, hand poised to knock.
Moments after my hand rapped the door, I felt something wrap around my arm and was dragged into the foyer of the house. Did the door even open? I looked back behind me and saw that it was closed- and locked, for that matter. A nailed plank of wood sealed it from normal entry. I shivered, pulled out my flashlight, and clicked it on.
Whatever had dragged me in was gone now. The beam of the flashlight wasn't very large but it allowed me to see a few things: A grand staircase; a chandelier; a piano. A hall door that was locked when I tried it. I took a deep breath and mounted the stairs.
I knew they would creak, but the sound of it still made me jump. My heart was racing a mile a minute with each stair I climbed. Behind me I heard noises, but none discernible. I couldn't hear much past my heart.
At the landing, I flashed the light around and froze. Dropped my flashlight. Screamed. A body was laying on the floor, the golden locks exactly like my sister's.
I raced over to the body, fell to the floor, and dragged her over my lap. Tears were flowing down my face, a sob stuck in my throat. Mickey... Mickey! It can't be... It can't be... It... it wasn't. No, it wasn't my sister! For as soon as I picked up the body, it transformed into dust, reformed as Mickey a few feet away, and walked through a door.
I couldn't believe what I had just seen. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings. I couldn't breathe. "Mickey?" I whispered. It wasn't her. I couldn't wrap my mind around that. But even as I knew it was impossible, I knew I had to go on. As I stood, I picked up the flashlight. Shined it on the wall. Walked over to the door she disappeared behind, and pushed it open.
More stairs. This must lead to the third floor, with the balcony and the pumpkin. The only room with the light. I could see hints of it on the staircase above. I looked behind me, at where the body had lay moments before. My breathing slowed momentarily as I contemplated what could be waiting for me. Then, deciding it didn't matter, I took the stairs three at a time.
I burst through the open door with such force that I fell face first into the dusty white carpet. I sneezed and looked up to see two black shoes, two grey stocking legs, and further up, a beautiful head of golden curls. "Mickey!" I cried, lunging to my feet, and grabbed at my sister.
Suddenly, she wasn't my sister anymore. She was a head of snakes, a body of warts, a writhing mass of limbs and claws and fangs and whatever she was she was fast. She was on me in an instant, grabbing and clawing, and I couldn't for the life of me get a clear grasp of what was happening. The flashlight still tight in my grip, I swung it with all my might onto her- it's- head. Whatever it was, it screeched and flew backwards into a corner, behind the bed with the rose patterned comforter.
Looking at my surroundings for the first time, I grabbed for a table lamp and threw it at the beast. It broke apart in tiny ceramic pieces as it collided with my target's head. A hiss escaped its lips, and I ran down the stairs in the newfound darkness, knowing full well that it would follow me, praying I found a weapon soon. I thanked whoever was listening that I found an antique sword on the wall, and leapt for it. I dropped it. I picked it up, turned around, and the monster was on me. My flashlight was knocked aside, the beam shining on the monster's face. I saw it clearly- My sister's eyes so unlike her own above a fanged mouth completely unlike the one I'm used to. There was no smile, no laughter, no glint of mischief found beneath the surface. It was at that moment that I knew she was gone, and before I could think it through, I shoved the blade through the creature's heart.
There was no blood. There was no collapse. There was only a scream, a bright light, and a fading away. What lay at my feet was not the monster. It was wholly, completely, perfectly Mickey.
Without asking questions, without wondering why, I picked her up and ran.

Final notes: The boy's name is Jack. It's not important but I have never met a Jack I didn't like, and this is dedicated to all the Jacks I know <3 The girl, Mickey, is for a 1 year old I work with who's full name is McKinley but we call her Mickey for short. She's a sweetheart <3

I have written you a story!
Username: Esmereina
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue Halloween Goodie Bag <3
Title: Trusty Compass
Submission:

SPOILERX

I have traveled around the globe for years. I investigated from rural town to major city with my trusty compass on one hand, and my map on another. My search for the unknown has been deemed useless since I never once stopped to think about what specific phenomena I was looking for. I just wanted anything to show me that this world is more than what it seemed to be. Perhaps, I was being foolish this entire time.
My thoughts only haunted me for a moment as I had set foot into this small village. The sun that dominated the west sky led me to believe it was well into the afternoon. I looked up at the town sign that read "Mistone. Population: 85". This sign looked a bit burnt and the pole it stood upon was rusty and had narrow, red marks on it. I merely took out my map to see if I went the wrong way. I thought I was going north-west to a town called Pales as the map had shown me, but as I pointed my compass to show the true north, north-west pointed directly to this village instead. This was quite strange. I thought that maybe this was a newly formed village. It's possible that the village was in a recent fire if anything. I scanned my surroundings and had come to realize that there was not a single home placed within the vicinity. The landscape looked as though it was never touched by human hands.
Then a strange feeling swept over me as my hand began to lift forward and the compass arrow started to spin on its own. I felt bewitched as my mind was wrapped in fear and yet my body wouldn't move on its own. My eyes gazed at the compass as it slowly stopped north to north-east. Was this really happening? I never once felt something so strongly overtake me this way. This may very well be what I was looking for all along. However, I wasn't sure if I was ready for the challenge.
I took a deep breath as my body started walking toward the directed path. There was nothing around me at all. I only felt the grass beneath my shoes crunching slightly with every step I had taken. The cool air blew against my back as if it was trying to push me forward. It was at this moment that I thought I shouldn't have traveled on my own. Then again, after years of travelling alone, I figured that I wouldn't need a companion. Somehow, the wind had become my temporary friend. Or perhaps, it could have been my enemy.
After I had went through the grassy plain, my legs stopped moving. I looked around and noticed that the sun was no longer visible. Was I walking for hours? It felt like minutes. I shook off my concern for time and just focused more on what I saw directly in front of my feet. It was a fairly large stone with words engraved on it. I kneeled down to view the inscription more closely. All it read was "Mistone, 1". I recalled the village sign earlier and couldn't make much sense of it. Perhaps this was the first stone these villagers first saw upon establishing where they would dwell. However, I had yet to see any villagers let alone houses.
Suddenly my hand rose forward once more just over the stone with the compass held vertically. I knew this wasn't done on my own accord since compasses wouldn't work correctly this way. The arrow spun quickly before me and my eyes began to feel heavy. The weight of my body couldn't withstand any longer. I felt myself being pulled back due to lack of balance. I had assumed I would have hit the ground. However, I just kept falling and I realized that the sky above me had gotten smaller and smaller. Only my arms were able to move and reach upward in some vain attempt to be saved. Who would save me? I was alone. There was no sign of life anywhere. I closed my eyes fully, praying for some sort of miracle.
Then my prayers were answered as I was hovering in place. I felt something wrap around my arm. It felt like a strong vine-like cord coiling about in order to get a firm grip on the arm that held the compass. I was frightened and also relieved. I was being hoisted up and all I could think about was who was at the other end of this cord. My legs were able to walk on the side of this strange hole. Finally, I was able to see the whole night sky once more. My body hovered over to the side with the cord still coiled around my arm. I was gently placed on the soft, grassy earth. I wanted to look to my side, but my neck wasn't able to move. It was as though I was only allowed to look at the sky and nothing more.
A strange figure stood over me. I couldn't see clearly under the moon-less night, however this figure couldn't have been no more than seven feet tall. I couldn't see its face, but I heard its words. "Your compass is cursed" it said. I was a bit shocked to hear this. "What are you talking about?" I responded. "Destroy the compass and you may see your world once more" it answered. What is this creature trying to tell me? I have had this compass for many years. This has to be some joke. I wanted to get up but I couldn't. Then the figure leaned in close to my face. All I could see were its blood-shot eyes. A look of horror and compassion filled my mind all at once. "You brought the compass here. You must destroy it or else you will become eighty-six" it said before it suddenly vanished.
I was able to gain control of my body soon after it disappeared. I sat up and scanned my surroundings. Everything was different. It looked more like a forest and less like a plain. Where I stood seemed to be the only wide area without trees hiding the sky. I rubbed my arm to help ease the pain from the cord, although I didn't find any marks on me. That figure wasn't human nor did it seem to leave any trace of its existence except for saving me. Then I felt my compass with my thumb and proceeded to examine it. It looked normal to me, but I noticed an inscription I have never seen before. There was a small number "86" embedded on the back and toward the top. My eyes grew wide as I started to piece this mystery together. Why didn't I notice this before? Then I thumbed over a small spot just below it and noticed the coarse texture. It felt like it was a small pebble. Perhaps it was a stone.
The strange figure did save me. It couldn't have been an evil entity if it saved me. I looked at the compass. I felt the urge within me to chuck the compass into the pit I had fallen into. Then a voice from within my mind whispered, "Melt it". I frantically started to search around the forest for anything that would melt metal. It is clear that wood wouldn't do much damage. As I ran through the forest, I noticed a cottage not too far off. I approached the home cautiously. There seemed to be no one around so I went in. I looked for the kitchen first and noticed an oven. I didn't think that the oven would help melt this compass either, but it was better than burning wood.
As I was about to throw the compass into the oven, suddenly a figure appeared. I froze on the spot. The figure merely pointed to a switch. "Hurry! You don't have much time" it said before it vanished. I shook my head to regain composure as I flipped the switch and was ready to throw it in. I took one last look at my compass that I had since childhood. I apologized to my old friend as I sought more to get back to my own world. Reluctantly, I finally threw it in and watched it burn.
I walked out of the cottage slowly. I observed my surroundings and it didn't look like I was back in my own world. I did what the figures told me to do. Now I am supposed to go back to my own world. The only problem now is...how?

Final notes: I have traveled quite a few times in my life. I remember not being able to use a compass correctly while I was visiting an unknown village in Ukraine. So my experience helped me to come up with a scary, open-ended tale. Don't worry, that village was never haunted in real life. lol <3

I have written you a story!
Username: Seito
Preferred Participation Prize: Green Please
Title: The Price We Pay
Submission:

SPOILERX

“Asher.”

Asher snapped open his green eyes. Looking up, he saw a girl with long, brown hair standing before him, her red eyes filled with concern. In her hands nestled a cup of tea which she handed to him as she moved to sit next to him on the couch.

“Ayame,” he greeted. His voice sounded scratchy and hoarse.

Ayame frowned at the sound of his voice. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Asher closed his eyes again. His grip tightened around the cup. He could recall everything that happened in the last 27 hours. Asher could still hear the blood pounding in his ears and feel the cool metal pressed against the back of his head. He wasn’t sure when he'd managed to stop shaking. Even though he was now safe, the fear was still there, fresh as ever, and he couldn’t help but jump at the shadows and flinch at the slightest touch.

Ayame bit her lip at the lack of response. “They can’t hurt you any more, Asher,” she said softly. “Tier is down at the station making sure of that.” It sounded like an empty promised to her. It partly was. Even if Tier did manage to make sure those criminals were locked away for good, it didn’t mean someone else was not going to come along. It was the price of being who they are, the price that Asher had to pay for the simple act of associating himself with her. Ayame flinched at the thought. She would have to break the bubble that Asher was living in. Reality was cruel.

“Why?” he finally asked, staring blankly at the untouched cup of tea.

Ayame didn’t answer him right away. “There’s this story that starts like all other stories,” she finally started. “Once upon a time, there was a power warrior and a brilliant sorceress. They were known thorough out the land. The warrior was the strongest the world had seen and there was no spell the sorceress could not use. When the two married, the world rejoiced.

“Surely,” they said, “Their children will be great!”

They were. The eldest, a boy, had his father’s strength and his mother’s brilliant mind. The youngest, a girl, was not as brilliant, but still just as great.

However things were not meant to be. One day the sorceress created a powerful spell: familiars. These familiars were powerful, capable of things that humans could not. When the world came to know of this, greedy kings began to plot. Many wanted a familiar of their own. The pressure to create increased on this little family of four.

Then one day the eldest boy snapped. He deemed no greedy kings should ever obtain this power. To ensure this, on a moonless night, the eldest boy summoned his own familiar. A terrible creature, twisted by his masters own insanity, half tiger, half lion with fur as dark as the night sky. On that silent night, the eldest boy murdered his parents, and set their house ablaze.

When the sun finally rose, people discovered the remains of the warrior and sorceress. The eldest boy was long gone.”

Asher stared at Ayame. His eyebrows furrowed together, in confusion. “What does this have to do with anything?” he asked.

Ayame held up a silver ring. “Put it on,” she instructed.

Setting his tea cup aside, Asher slipped the ring onto his ring finger. He didn’t understand where Ayame was going with all of this. Suddenly the ring began to glow and Asher felt something wrap around his arm. He gave a yelp as he tried to shake whatever was growing on his arm off. The wind began to pick up, whirling faster and faster, creating a vortex. His teacup went crashing to the floor along with several other objects. The walls creaked and groaned.

Then as quickly as it started, it stopped. Asher opened his eyes and looked at down at his arm. Blue eyes stared back at him. “What-?” Asher started to say. Words failed to form. Wrapping around his arm was a serpentine white dragon. It cooed a little. Its fork tongue flickering out and licking him on his cheek. Then it uncoiled itself from around his arm, and began to fly around in circles in the air above his head.

“W-what’s going on Ayame?” Asher asked, turning back towards his friend.

A smirk tugged on Ayame’s face. She held her arm, and with a silent command, the dragon flew down and wrapped itself around her shoulders, nuzzling its face against her cheeks like a little puppy. Ayame smiled and stroked its head before answering Asher’s question. “Asher, meet Zephyr, your new familiar. Zephyr is a highly advance piece of technology codenamed BITs, that is Beast in Technology. Faster than any computer in existence, Zephyr is a practically your pet and bodyguard wrapped up into one thing.”


Zephyr flew off of Ayame’s shoulders, moving to perch itself on Asher’s head now.

Ayame continued on. “This way, you won’t ever get kidnapped again. Zephyr will be at your side at all times to protect you. He can even stay in ring form as well.” She looked away again. “And they can’t use you to get to me,” she muttered under her breath.

Slowly the pieces began to click in Asher’s head. With a frown, he asked, “Ayame… what happened to the daughter in that story?”

Ayame gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Asher. I am so sorry,” she apologized. “But this is the price you pay for knowing me.”




Final notes: Heh, Ayame and Asher (and Tier too) are characters in my head that I've had a good idea of what their story is, but I never quite figured out how Asher found out of Ayame's story. Your little requirement sentence is what sparkled it off. This is a glimpse into their world. :3


I have written you a story!
Username: nekosari
Preferred Participation Prize: any is fine
Title: Boring? You wish
Submission:

SPOILERX

Nothing interesting had ever occurred in Tara's village, Sladoff. It seemed to be the dullest place on the planet since there was only the inn for entertainment; and that was mainly for the men. The women had nothing to distract them from their daily toils other than gossiping and trying to keep a tight rein on their little ones. Tara, however, always found ways to keep herself amused; whether it was participating in the village boys' rough-and-tumble wrestling games, or sitting out on her favorite rock to stare out at the sea and let the spray drench her hair and clothes. Mother did not like either of her amusements over the other, but there was nothing to be done to deter her teenaged daughter. Maren merely shook her head as the girl dressed in the loose shirts and trousers that were also worn by her friends; supposedly to keep her pretty dresses from getting muddy and torn.

No-one noticed when the old ship drifted near the sheltered cove, except for the young children Tara and her two best friends included; and the fact that from the day it docked, fog shrouded the vessel and seemed to eddy and swirl about the villagers' ankles day in and day out seemed not to bother any of the adults. In fact, they barely seemed to notice the eerie ship at all except when it was mentioned in passing by the youngsters as they played their games; and even then they seemed to dismiss it almost instantly. Its hull was massive, easily four horse-lengths in height, and seemed to not have been scraped in a long time, as barnacles and moss encrusted the belly and sides of the wizened wood.

There seemed to be something about the ship that screamed 'Danger! Do Not Approach' but Tara was curious to see what was inside; it couldn't be a crew, since the Scarlotta, for that was its name, had been docked in Sladoff's dock for more than a fortnight and nothing had emerged either from below or from the captain's cabin. “Come on, guys! We have to take a look inside!” Tara kept her voice to a mere hiss, her bright green eyes looking intently at the twin hazel of Dirk and Drake, her best friends and comrades in all the crimes enacted during their games. The boys shared one of their secret, twins-only gazes, each an almost perfect mirror to the other except for the fact that Dirk had a thin white scar that started under his dark brown hairline on the left side of his face and ended at his cheekbone; a result of trying to see if his head was as full of hot air as his brother claimed, at least there had been more hay than sharp rocks at his landing-site.

Their female friend waited anxiously, chewing on the tip of her short-cropped red hair. She was still a few fingerlengths shorter than the twins, but still managed to hover over them without much trouble. Mostly because they let her, but neither one would ever willingly mention that fact to her. With something akin to relief, Tara received a solemn nod from Drake. Gathering the two into a tight hug, she turned and headed in the direction of the ship's gangplank, her unshod feet making no sound and barely leaving a print in the dust. Dirk followed almost immediately after, but his brother took a moment to look back at their homes to see if any adults were looking in their direction. It seemed none were, and he followed the other two in the direction of the strange ship that had chosen their dock as a resting spot.

Tara and the boys slowly crept up the practically rotted wood of the makeshift bridge that spanned the length of a half-horselength across and eventually reached the ship's deck. “You can't even see the village anymore,” Drake pointed out, his brother and their friend looked over the rails and realized that the fog was, indeed, thick enough to reduce the visibility of their home village to nothing; an apprehensive shiver made the fine hairs on the backs of their necks rise eerily. But the three shook off the sensation and convinced themselves that they were letting their overactive imaginations get the best of them. Giving one last look in the direction of their home, Dirk followed his twin and Tara as they commenced to explore the chillingly silent ship.

Sneezing, Tara covered her nose with the sleeve of her billowing blouse, not liking the smell of dust and rot that hung oppressively in the dank and gloomy atmosphere inside the ship. Though it seemed that it didn't phaze her friends one ingot as their faces were still and serene, their bright eyes looking everywhere at the cobwebs that hung thickly from the ceiling and moss that covered every barrel and storage box beneath the deck. “We should find the captain's cabin!” Drake looked around to see if he could find the heavy door he knew must lead to those quarters. “There's probably treasure in there,” Dirk completed his brother's sentence, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Tara's mind instantly ushered forth images of gold and precious jewels, necklaces of pearl and earrings of sapphire. “Lead the way then!” She encouraged them, eager to actually find something interesting in that musty vessel.

Almost as if they had the design of the ship already implanted in their minds, the twins turned right as one and were instantly in a small green hallway that ended at a heavy iron door which stood partly open. Without much thought to it, Tara took the five steps necessary for her shorter legs to traverse the distance and pushed the door open the rest of the way. She had expected it to resist any efforts and was surprised when the hinges did not even emit a protest and swung the door's weight easily. The chamber was surprisingly clean and free of dust and mold, the elegant oak desk strewn with charts, quills, inkwells, and an interesting crystal orb sitting proudly in the midst of all. The three paid it no mind and looked at the walls of the cabin, which were surprisingly covered floor to ceiling in bookcases filled with heavy books.

“I've never seen so many books in one place before,” Tara was awed, the only books she had actually seen were the village priest's books and the slim book that was a record of all villagers currently living in Sladoff. Turning her head to look everywhere, she noticed that there was a very large window behind the captain's chair, which was turned outwards as if the captain himself had been gazing out through it when death took his spirit. Dirk and Drake watched as she walked in the direction of the window to see what was outside. It never occurred to her to wonder why the glass was un-clouded by dust or cobwebs alike. Bringing her face close to the glass, Tara squinted her eyes and tried to make out anything past the fog that seemed to have thickened in the short amount of time she and her friends had been inside the vessel.

“Guys? I can't-” her voice immediately cut off as she felt something wrap around her arm, feeling as if the claws of a beast had gripped her. Startled, Tara snapped her head to her right side and gaped at the skull currently grinning at her, its bony hand tightly clamped around her forearm. She could not even scream as the abomination pulled on her arm using its skeletal legs, still encased in the tattered remains of his canvas pants and leather boots, to turn its chair and drag her around so her face was level with the round orb they had ignored before. Its depths had changed from crystal-clear to a disturbing cloudy green, and Tara could have sworn the thing was leering at her, but it was only the reflection of the captain at her side.

Dirk and Drake were looking at her, both standing on the other side of the desk, as if they knew exactly what was going on. “We have to get out . . . “ her voice was shrill, the boys were not moving a muscle! “Sorry, Tara, but you have to stay here,” Dirk, the gentler of the two, was looking at the girl with slight pity in his eyes, but still made no move to help her. Drake placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave their friend a cheeky smile. “We like our immortality, you know? Captain Jack here,” he nodded at the skeletal being forcing her head nearer to the orb. “Didn't quite like us trying to steal his shiny ball, so he cursed us to an eternity of sacrificing foolish little girls to the Soul Gem,” the gem was apparently the orb that was sucking the girl's aura out of her body; and Tara watched as the two she had believed to be her friends changed before her very eyes. Their eyes took on the same bright green color as her own, and their hair lengthened to their shoulders, and lightened to deep red.

Soon enough, the only thing left of Tara was her right arm, which eventually disappeared inside the orb, following the rest of her body. The skeleton of Captain Jack regarded the twins for a few chilling seconds and then turned to resume his contemplation of the world outside his window. “Another job well done, Brother,” Drake smiled angelically and turned to leave the cabin and, subsequently, the ship. Dirk stayed behind for a few seconds, fingering the scar on his face that would never fade and would forever remind him of this particular sacrifice. Then he turned and followed his brother, leaving the village behind and traveling on to the next one, looking for a woman to charm into adopting them and hunting for their next sacrifice.

Every 365 days, the two were to bring a new girl to the ship that followed behind them wherever they went and give her to Captain Jack's Soul Gem. That night became known as All Hallow's Eve, eventually garnering many legends of ghost ships all over the world. But every legend has a grain of truth somewhere in its faraway past, and the twins ghosted their way through many places and many girls. To this day, they might still be searching for their next victim.

Beware of charming twins who mirror each other, except for the scar on the gentle one's face.

Final notes: My inspiration was actually the required sentence and the suggested themes ^_^ They got married and popped out a plotbunny for meh. Hopefully it's not too childish though heh heh


Yay! Done. Final word count: 1024 words. >D

I have written you a story!
Username: Rainbows
Preferred Participation Prize: Blue, please (:
Title: Nopperabou
Submission:

SPOILERX

Many men live their lives, accomplishing nothing but begetting children and working. Some men say the former is one of the best reasons to live, but a man I knew little of prior to this fall would disagree. He was the type of man to embrace his work wholeheartedly, to dive in head first without looking back. He had a wife and three children – two boys that would soon be working at his side, and a daughter who would be, sooner yet, bringing in a dowry – but they weren’t his reason to rise from bed each morning. Some said he only wanted the profits, but he was an honest man. He worked for the sake of working, and to bring food to the mouths of his family and customers. His name was said to be Kenshin, but he came to be known as Karoshi.

Karoshi’s wife was the perfect bride. She was young, beautiful in a steadfast, modest way, and she was very sensible. She had talents with any household chores given to her, and it was foretold that she was to be a very good mother. Her father was a wealthy fisherman who grew to respect Karoshi, his work ethic, and his prowess with his fishing net. Karoshi, smitten by the beauty he could only catch glimpses of, won over her father with a record-breaking catch. The bride-to-be was enamored by Karoshi’s intense demeanor, as well as his talent in fishing. She knew that he would be the ideal husband – a wonderful provider. Their marriage was arranged promptly, with no objections from either family. The ideal bride is known as none other than ‘Mushi’.

Karoshi and Mushi lived peacefully together for many years. They had children, of course; they took up much of Mushi’s time, Karoshi’s fish, and much more of both her and his love. Karoshi worked from dawn to dusk, and sometimes later. Mushi enjoyed watching her husband’s boat, dancing with the moon on the choppy waters of the river, but she had to admit to herself that the nights were lonely. She slept with her children when they were small, but they had grown too old for such things.

The nights grew longer as the years wore on, and Mushi grew irritated with how infrequently she saw her husband. She let her anger grow until it was almost unbearable – she was consumed with fury and paranoia! Her thoughts centered around her husband, as always, but it was only with the image of him with another woman… with men… spending the nights with any other person than her. One night, she lay in bed, angry tears blurring her vision as she stared out at the stars.
I could find him. I could make him show me what he does at night… Mushi, with this thought, silently left the house.

Meanwhile, Karoshi was humming to himself, tugging gently on the net hanging over the side of his boat. The lantern, hanging from a slim pole beside him, bobbed, seeming to be happily dancing in time with the tune. This was nothing new to him, for he had been working through the night exactly like this for many years. He thought his wife was happy with how hard he worked. He was completely oblivious to her feelings, her loneliness and anger. There were no affairs, no lewd meetings in the dark. Just Karoshi, the boat, the fish, and the moon.

Mushi prowled the shore, combing the docks for her husband. She found one of her neighbors, entangled with a prostitute, but no sign of her Karoshi. Proof of how dishonest and sneaky men can be! Angered, she waited by the dock that she knew he would come back to. She didn’t notice the figure gliding behind her, or the inquisitive posture it held. Something draped over her shoulder, causing her eyes to widen in alarm. All anger gone for a split, panicked second, she spun around to look upon the face of… a faceless creature. Before she could scream, she saw the creature lift its arm, and a dripping cloth slapped her -- the creature's sleeve, wet from the river. It's hand, imbued with the power of spirit and envy, clawed her face, leaving no marks. Stunned, she stumbled, almost falling to the ground. She tried to call out, tried to yell or to scream, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t see, smell, or breathe. She writhed on the ground, her screams silent and breathless.

The creature smiled to itself, using its new pair of lips effectively. There was a gleam in its eyes as it saw the mortal world through mortal eyes, and it thought to itself… How little they all know. It stood over the woman on the ground, now without a face, waiting for her to die. If she died, the creature would be able to keep her face and use it to steal her life. But, best of all, the creature would have an escape from the spirit world. It would be able to die as a mortal and find a place in either Heaven or Hell – anything besides roaming endlessly, searching fruitlessly, through the barren world of spirits.

Karoshi rowed slowly to the shore as the sun slowly rose from the waves. He was smiling pleasantly to himself, pleased with his catch. He was unaware of his beloved wife’s life and soul slipping through the cracks of the mortal world into the cruel spirit world, cursed to roam as the creature before her had. He pulled his boat safely to the rocky shoreline, tying it to his dock. Preoccupied with unloading his haul for the night and yesterday, he didn’t notice the creature with the face of an ideal wife sneak up behind him.

He felt something wrap around his arm. He turned, a grin spreading on his face as he saw his wife’s face. He opened his mouth to greet her as the face disappeared, leaving behind a grin full of sharp teeth and evil intentions. His jaw dropped, slack in shock, and his eyes widened in horror. He shook violently, his eyes rolling back into his head as he gasped for air. A combination of too much work, a chronic lack of sleep, and terror had caused his heart to stutter and grind to a painful halt.

He died alone; wishing he hadn’t gone to work that day.

Final notes: I've always been fascinated with the 'No Face' legend in japanese folklore.. I think this nopperabou will be giddy that her antics were so successful.
Translation notes: 'Karoshi' is a medical term to describe being worked to death in japanese
'Mushi', among other things, can mean jaded or neglected


I have written you a story!
Username: wish
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange Baggie
Title: Jukai Runs
Submission:

SPOILERX

Once upon a time, a story was written in which a young couple in love decided to kill themselves within a beautiful forest. But it was after all, just a story; something an author made up to entertain others. The forest, a quiet and serene place beneath the famous Mount Fuji was a well known tourist destination. It was a rocky forest, with many caves and thick trees. However, what many tourists do not know is that the forest has been long plagued with legends of deaths and hauntings. It was said that historically many people practiced ubasute there. Ubasute was a practice of leaving the elderly in a remote place to die; in this case, the elderly were taken deep into the forest and left there to wander until they wasted away. They say that if you were to cross an old wandering spirit deep in the forests you would be cursed. Of course they were just legends right? The beautiful, thick forest was still utilized for hiking and camping, however many were much more careful when visiting. Most people would stick to the cleared dirt paths that would take them deep into the forest and then back out again safely. Others a bit more adventurous would venture a bit off course and realize how easily they would get lost.
One day, an adventurous spirit happened upon what looked like dried shriveled up wood perched between two trees. These part of the woods were thick and dark. Light could barely reach down to the forest floor, but upon closer inspection with a flashlight it was obvious as to what it was. The adventurous spirit threw up right there and rushed backwards toward the little fluorescent ribbons he had used as markers. After that incident, stories about the area grew much more intense. Locals themselves who lived around the forest would not venture into the woods, and warned their own children to stay away.
However it were real life details that continued to fuel these legends. More dead bodies began to emerge from deep within the forest. Most of them young adults, but a few older members of the population as well. As these grisly discoveries became more frequent, law enforcement took notice of the area and began monthly sweeps of the parking lot as well as the main paths through the forest. The obvious thing was that these deaths were suicides. Many drove to the area and abandoned their cars in the parking lot before making their way into the forest to take their own life. And others, people believed were deaths caused by those that still practiced ubasute. So over the course of decades, the government attempted to reach their people through messages and signs to convince them that taking their life was not the right way to go. However, these attempts did not faze the determined. Dead bodies were discovered frequently from the Aokigahara patrols.

“Ah...damnit, I'm on Jukai runs tonight...” complained patrolman Izu as he made his way to his locker.

The detective smiled at the young man as he shrugged on his jacket. “And hours do not get any better,” he admitted.

“Great, just great,” Izu puffed out through a yawn. “Aren't you on-call tonight Tenkei?”

Tenkei noticed the gleam in the young officer's eye, “If you find something don't call me.”

A huge grin. “Don't worry.”

“Really. Don't call,” the detective groaned.

“What are the chances?”

He offered a sacrifice, “Call Aoki.”

A stifled snicker, “I'll call Aoki to call you.”




Tenkei almost threw the ringing phone across the room, but he picked up instead. “Izu...” he warned.

“It's Aoki. Get to the office.”

“Aoki...” he opened one eye and squinted a the clock, “it's 3:37 in the morning.”

“Get to the office,” repeated the controlling feminine voice of his partner.

“What did they find at the Jukai runs that have you all worked up?”

“Koyama's in the hospital for minor injuries and what doctors believe is a psychotic break.”

Tenkei sat up straight as a board in his bed. “What happened?”

“At about 0100 Koyama and Izu were making the rounds on Path 11. Izu felt something wrap around his arm and cut him at marker 47. After the incident they proceeded to descend to the bottom of the forest and...”

He was afraid to ask, “And what?”

“Koyama claims something came across the parking lot at them, therefore he drew his gun, and shot two rounds.”

“Was it a coyote?”

“He says it was three or four individuals, but we can't seem to find proof to back up Koyama's claim.”

“Well what did Izu say?” Tenkei reasoned.

Aoki paused on the other end.

“Izu's been reported missing since 0256...”

Final notes: Inspiration came from the Aokigahara forest. My story is mixed with fact and fiction. The Aokigahara forest is said to be the second most popular place in the world for suicides. There are 30-100 suicides there a year. Jukai = Sea of Trees

I have written you a story!
Username: zeapear
Preferred Participation Prize: random
Title:
Submission:

SPOILERX

Kathy hurried down the twilit street, she’d promised her aunt that she’d be back from Ben’s by 7:00 which left her only five minutes to run two miles. It was Hallowe’en evening and Kathy had been over at her friend’s house watching scary movies for the past four hours; the last had been a rather lengthy epic about carnivorous butterflies and had gone longer than expected (hence the running). As she pelted past the local church she felt a shiver run down her spine as a gust of freezing air snaked around her beat-down trainers, Kathy could hear quiet sobs coming from the open church-building and although she felt her body screaming at her to run she couldn’t leave the person crying, could she? She took a tentative step into the shadowy hall and peered into the darkness, ‘Hello?’ she called, ‘I thought I heard someone crying’. As soon as she’d stepped over the threshold of the building the soft sobs had faded into silence and the high-ceiling of the cathedral was sending eerie echoes ricocheting off the stone walls, all Kathy wanted to do now was run but as she turned to leave the great oak doors of the church swung shut and she was left alone in the darkness. Or was she alone? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard it, a noise like sand filtering between someone’s fingers came from behind her and she swung around to face the church’s pitch-dark interior. She bit back a scream as she felt something wrap around her arm; she kept her body pinned to the doors of the church and fumbled through her bag, looking for her phone. Finding it she opened it with trembling hands and shone the faint light around the room; directly in front of her was a decrepit corpse. This time Kathy did scream, she emitted a high-pitched wail and began to bang on the church doors while still facing the body. The corpse raised its head to look at her; its flesh dissolved away into darkness and the remaining skeleton lunged. Just as it was about to touch her, it too dissolved into shadows. Kathy could hear menacing laughter coming from the direction of the altar and she screamed at the sound with a mixture of fear and rage. ‘Leave me alone!’ she sobbed, as hot tears streamed down her face. She could feel a stabbing pain over her heart; her crying broke off into a piercing scream. Kathy collapsed and began to twitch on the ground, blood staining the front of her shirt.

-x-

Nathan had screamed when he’d seen the corpse, he’d only entered the church because he’d heard the girl crying. A decision he was now regretting. When the doors had closed behind him he had known he was in trouble. He watched on, screaming, as the girl raised her head. Her hand was still clutching a baby-pink mobile phone and the front of her white t-shirt was soaked with fresh blood…

Final notes: This was my first attempt at horror literature, I hope it's okay :sweat:



I have written you a story!
Username: Woodlandnymph
Preferred Participation Prize: Yellow Goodie Bag
Title: A Family's Legacy
Submission:

SPOILERX

Hoarfrost glittered on the thick-panned glass; its dendritic patterns danced and sparkled by the light of the fire. Hunched forward in an ancient wooden rocker, Nanny leaned towards the warmth, stretching and unfurling her arthritic hands near the hot grate. The warm glow illuminated her wrinkled features, casting mysterious shadows across her face and wool blanket clad body.

Next to her, her great-granddaughter Beth sat crouched by Nanny’s stockinged feet, arms wrapped around her legs more in anticipation than to keep warm. After each Golding turned ten years old, before the year was out on Midwinter’s Day, Nanny would tell them about their legacy.

Her family refused to tell Beth no matter how much she pestered them and pried. The adults in the family usually grimaced and shook their heads before muttering “In due time,” or “Soon enough you shall know.” Beth did not recognize the looks that clouded their eyes; a look of sadness mingled with fear.

Now it was her time. Finally. Before her mother sent her off through the woods to Nanny’s cottage, she kissed her daughter on both cheeks. The early morning light filtered through the evergreen boughs, which were thick with snow and ice.

Everything was silent save the crackling of the fire and the soft muted sound of the snowfall. Nanny reached in her pocket and took out the loveliest necklace Beth had ever seen. Fit for a princess. She handed it to Beth, who marveled at it, turning it this way and that so it glinted in the firelight. With a sigh, Nanny started her story.

“Well, my dear,” her voice sounded far away, “we are cursed.”

“Curse, Nanny? I’m too old to believe in curses.”

“Don’t interrupt child. Now, where was I? We are in fact, or were Romainchal.”

Noting Beth’s uncomprehending stare, Nanny clarified for her, “Gypsies my love. Travelers, tinkers, what have you.
I grew up in the largest caravan of Roma in England, and spent my childhood traveling with from town to town until I was your age,” Nanny’s small eyes watered with a far away look.

“That is when it all changed…”
***
Annabelle sat on the back of her mother’s vardo, plaiting and weaving her long wavy blonde locks. She was waiting for her older sister May to finish changing inside so they could be on their way. Her sister had already been fussing and primping for over an hour to look comely for her sweetheart Aidan when they took out their tin wear and baskets to the town.

Anna knocked her head back on the door a few times, “All the rouge in the county won’t help your face look any less homely May. Might as well face it, the only thing Aidan will be looking at is your cleavage!”

Anna’s head fell backwards as May opened the door quickly. “Don’t say spiteful things brat. You’d be half so luck as to have a sweetheart as handsome as Aidan.” May jumped over Anna’s prostrate form, leaving behind a trail of sweet cloying perfume.

“Come now, grab those baskets and let’s have off, Mama will be angry if we don’t show up soon.”

Anna followed May’s swaying hips, to the town center. Farmers and tinkers came from every town in the county to sell their wares on Market Day. Saturday was one of the only days that Anna and her family, along with the rest of the Roma were allowed to mingle freely with the townsfolk. It was acceptable to take goods from a gypsy, to have fortunes read, and to pay good money for charms, potions, and various more malevolent magicks at the market.
Mama didn’t believe in dealing with charms, even simple luck or love ones. “People will do what they will, fiddling with those powers. I say it’ll cause more harm than good. Stick to what you know here on earth, like our pewter and our baskets.”

The sisters arrived at their stall late with a raised eyebrow from Mama. “Cover yourself up a bit more May, we don’t want to be causing no trouble.” She opened up a basket at her feet and tossed a scarf at May, who took it and quickly tossed it about her neck and shoulders.

“Well, my loves, tend to the stall now, I need to see the Coopers about beeswax. Mind you stay here and out of trouble, now.”

It was a full five minutes without trouble. Then, with a long sigh, May stood up. “I can’t take this dull booth, I am going to see if I can find Aidan. Mind things yourself, and don’t you dare tell Mama I went off.” Before Annabelle could protest loudly, May was off; leaving the modest scarf Mama gave her behind.

Anna rolled her eyes and propped her head on her hand. After two sales and thirty minutes alone, she heard raised voices from a far off cluster of caravans where the majority of charms and potions were sold. Craning her neck, Anna thought she saw her sister’s bright hair in a cluster of people near the caravans. The raised voices escalated, and more people gathered.

She grabbed the shawl, and rushed over, hoping that her sister wasn’t involved. When she got their, her suspicions were justified, and saw her May cradling Aidan’s head. The worst of it seemed to be over, a scuffle had happened because Aidan was convinced a townsman had been staring at May lewdly. By the time Anna got there they already shook hands and parted ways.

Aidan still fumed. “ Those men are fine gaping at our women, and yet they will hardly talk to trade with us.” He spat on the ground, his blood mingled with saliva.

“I think we should all go back to the stall, Mama will be furious already with us,” Anna said, settling the shawl over May’s shoulders. “Honestly, and I am the young one. Who knew you could cause so much trouble?”

“Let me talk to Mama, Anna. I will explain it all.” May gathered up Aidan, “come now you two.”

Before Anna turned away with them, something caught her eye. There was a necklace hanging from the railing on a nearby vardo. She approached slowly, watching the large faceted stone in the middle glint in the afternoon sun. It must have been the largest stone Anna had ever seen, as big as a chicken’s egg, and worth more than any of the townsfolk would earn in a lifetime.

The closer Anna got, the more she knew she needed the necklace. It thrummed with energy; she could feel it pulsing in her ears. She wiped her clammy hands on her skirt and craned her neck around in both directions to see if anyone saw her. She reached out to it. She felt something wrap around her arm…

“Are you sure you want that love?” A voice startled Anna out of her trance and her heart leapt in her throat.

“Pardon me, I’m sorry. I just, I wanted to get a closer look at it that’s all. I meant no harm.” She turned about to leave.

“Now now now. No need to leave.” The owner of the voice was an old grizzled man. “I asked if you were sure you wanted that necklace?”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry sir, I would never have the money for such a priceless thing as that.”

He let go of her arm slowly. “Yes, you would do nicely. How about I give you this necklace. A young lass such as yourself would be the perfect owner.”

“So, it’s magick?”

“Magick. That’s a word for it. What do you say girl. I will give this to you, if you promise to let everyone of your kin see it and touch it in time. It will give you a prosperous life, and them too. But it’s not without consequences.”

“What do you mean?”

“That, I can not say. You will know soon enough if you take it.”

Anna stood with her hands at her sides, thinking she should leave, but before she could stop herself, she reached out and grabbed the necklace.

Nothing happened. No surge of power, no bright lights. She raised her eyebrow. “Are you sure this is magick?”
The old man chuckled. “You are it’s keeper now child. You will live with the burden as I have, until that stone has had the blood of a hundred souls on it. Only then can you pass it on and die in peace. Be wary who you touch next is all I can warn you with. Now it’s my time to go. Lord have mercy on you child.”

Anna turned and ran, catching up with her sister and Aidan just as they got back to the stall. She slipped the necklace into her pocket. There they gathered up the baskets and prepared for a scolding. May passed a large one to Anne, brushing her hand softly. As soon as she did, she screamed, and dropped everything she held.

“May? May, what’s wrong?”

She scratched at herself, letting out a continuous blood-curdling scream. Ripping at her hair and skin, she fell to the ground, twisting around in agony. Aidan tried to keep her still, and Anna reach her hand into her mouth to keep it wide open, so she didn’t bite her tongue and choke during her fit.

People gathered, trying to help, but her screams soon drove them off in fright. They crossed themselves and muttered prayers, leaving them alone with her hysterical sister. Suddenly May stopped crying. Tears streaming down her face she looked around frantically. She shuddered once more and let out a final breath.

Anna ran, knocking over people, smashing into objects, and into the woods. She kept running and running, letting the branches snag her hair and rip her soft skin. Finally she came the lake, reached into her pocket to grasp the necklace and flung it into the dark depths. After she did so, she lay on the ground, and welcomed the darkness.

She woke to find warm blankets around her, and she was in her bunk in the caravan. Someone must have found and carried here there. From where she lay, she could see her sister’s white shroud laid outside, awaiting a pyre. Curling up on her side, she felt something cold and hard dig into her leg. Reaching down, she felt the necklace, safe and sound where she had put it before.

Anna saw her mother shrink and fade away that morning, her skin growing ashy and lifeless, as her eldest daughter’s funeral was prepared. Anna grasped onto the necklace tightly and brought it to her Mama, heeding the old man’s words. She lightly touched the cold chain to her arm before sliding back into her pocket.

Later, her mother already looked better, despite the tragic circumstances. They stood before the blaze Aidan had set, heads bowed low. Mama’s knees bucked at one point, and Aidan supported her, holding her as she cried for her eldest.

That night, Aidan died. People said it was of a broken heart, but Anna knew better.

***
Beth was blind to the beauty of the snow. She still felt the necklace in her hands, like a lead weight. But where would she go? Could she willingly touch someone knowing that they would die? Her tears froze on her face.

Suddenly, she lifted her head and smiled. She bolted, running towards the Miller’s farm, and Cecilia Miller’s sick grandmother.

Racing now, she ran head first into the arms of a tall bundled up person. She looked up slowly, heart racing, and found herself staring into her mother’s startled eyes.

Final notes: Well, this isn't a super Halloween-y story persay, but after getting some rather interesting news about my own heritage from my maternal grandmother, I really wanted to write about gypsies. My grandmother, who is ill, told us a family secret she had discovered, that her mother was in fact a part of the largest gypsy caravan in New England and in Scotland and England. We found it was true, and managed to trace back that heritage to the 1670s. Interesting stuff, especially since one ancestor is a famous fortune teller from our area in the late 1800s called Anne Orchard. So, this turned into a story about family secrets and curses.


I have written you a story!
Username: Cora Lorington
Preferred Participation Prize: Anyone is good ^.^
Title: The Haunting of Garro Hallow Woods
Submission:

SPOILERX

Tony:
“Tony Come on!” I heard the voice in front of me calling me on, something about me felt reserved, almost frightened. I knew there was nothing to fear, I took these woods everyday, yet something about them scared me on this night known for its evils. I heard the voice again, David’s voice, “Come on Tony, we don’t have much time”
I saw his head pop around the tree willing me on. Slowly I closed my eyes, letting the familiar noises of the woods take me in. These where my woods, my friend, my most familiar locations. Slowly I took a deep breath, slowly in letting the cold air fill my lungs, and slowly I let the air release from them.
“I’m coming” I readjusted the backpack over my shoulder and followed David into the dark woods. After all we had work to do.


Annie:
I was excited as my mother finished up the white paint over my nose and eyes. It followed straight down to my neck, cold at first, so that it made me cold, but it quickly warmed to my skin. I stepped back and examined the effects in the mirror. White Cat, a nice calm white cat. Most people would ask why white, after all it was Halloween, and Black Cats where far more popular.
That was answered by my counter part twin sister Allie. Allie was the Black Cat. Black and White, opposite sides of the spectrum and yet not reflective of Allie and Me, We where two sides of the same coin. We lived, ate, and breathed together….even our school grades where the same.
I looked over at Allie, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground in a stubborn impatient way that I could often see of myself in her eyes. It caused me to laugh a bit, and say to her, “Alright alright I’m done”
“Don’t know why you had to take so long to get ready, we could have been gone already”
I rolled my eye, but giggled a bit, “You took Twice as long as I did to get ready….you just happened to be the first to get ready”
She looked at me in determination for only a brief moment before throwing her hands up, “Yeah your probably right, but lets go!”
“Alright alright” I rolled my eyes and shouted back to my mother, “See you later mom!”
I briefly heard from my retreating backside, “Don’t stay out too late guys”
“Yes mom,” We said in unison. We knew we would be out later then we probably should be but we had to….we couldn’t be considered the scaredy cats of the group.


David:
Tony and I walked through the woods quickly and swiftly. Even in the dark we knew where to go. It was a straight path to the meeting place. Well…..not meeting place, the haunting place.
I walked ahead with Tony three paces behind me. We both walked in silence thinking about the task to which we had both set ourselves to. I thought about the night before, the bonfire.
It had been a bonfire with a group of club friends, there where the four of us, Tony, Allie, Annie, and me. The girls where new to the group, recent additions to our once small numbers. Initiation, I think that’s what we had called it. Initiation to the club.
The story was one Tony and I had invented, a story about a Halloween Haunting. A haunting of the woods of Golla Hallow. I recited the story with ease, telling the girls about the ghosts who only haunted the woods on Halloween at midnight. There task has been to visit the woods and take one picture of the ghosts.
I laughed a bit as I thought about the elaborate trick we had weaved and the plans we where currently planning. I looked back at Tony and noticed he was still moving cautiously….carefully. “What’s wrong Tony…?” I was impatient, after all the story was a fake and yet Tony was acting like a scaredy cat.
“I don’t know….I just have a bad feeling” He looked at the ground and not at me.
I rolled my eyes and spit back rather fiercely “Grow a pair Tony….just grow up” and then I started through the woods not really listening to weather or not he was following me.


Allie:
We left the house at around six o’clock, not nearly close enough time to head into the woods for our Initiation. So we went about our night as usual. We went door to door to trick or treat.
Throughout the night I know my bag of candy became fuller and fuller and although I felt myself not thinking about our momentous task ahead for the night I could see it in Annie’s eyes that she did not forget.
Every few minutes I could see Annie’s eyes glance towards the woods and it brought a chill back to my spine. I could not forget because she could not forget. After about the dozenth time I caught her I stopped and looked at her, “We could always go home after trick or treating,”
“And look like cowards for the rest of our lives?”
“It’s a choice we can make”
“No we will go….we have to”
“Alright Annie, you win, you always win”

Tony:
We reached the middle of the woods before long. David ran off without me but I caught up to him at the middle of the woods as was where we were headed. I knew he wouldn’t stray from the plan. As I thought he was in the middle of the woods and when he saw me he glared a little.
“Guess you decided to show up after all”
“Shut up Dave…..you’re being an ass”
“Whatever…..just make sure your ready when they show up.”
I looked up at the sky, at the moon, before I answered him, “I imagine that we have a bit of time before the girls come”
I sat with my back against the tree. The meeting place was that tree…..the supposed haunted tree. I fell asleep while waiting for the destined time, waiting for the girls. It was a few hours later that Dave woke me from a dead sleep to get ready for the trick on the girls.
I sleepily rubbed my eyes and pulled the sheet out of my backpack. It would happen soon.

Annie:
It was time, our doom time had come. I looked up at the dark woods and felt a lump hit my throat. The woods where far scarier in the dark then they had been in the day. “A…Are y..y..you ready?” I had meant to sound strong, courageous….but my voice betrayed me.
My sister held her fear much better then I had, “Yes, Lets get this over with.”
Together we walked into the woods, the sounds of the woods surrounding us, every sound sounded like a threat, another’s presence.
The night was warm, but despite this fact I shivered uncontrollable. We moved slowly. I felt something wrap around my arm and I screeched loudly, only to discover it was Allie. She held my arm tightly and all the strength I had seen earlier was gone, she was shivering just as badly.
We reached the tree before long and found the tree. It was dark in the clearing and we stood, waiting. According to Allie’s watch we still had two minutes left. We waited, Arm in arm, for the fateful occurrence to take place.
Out of the trees we saw them, the two white, lighted figures came from between the trees. I screeched but did not move, rooted to the spot. Allie beside me however stopped shivering, “TONY! DAVID! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU”
She stomped towards the two white figures and pulled the sheets from over their heads. She glowered and raised her hand to Smack Tony a crossed the face and her arm was reared back again, “You scared us half to death!”
Tony and David cowered beneath her smacks but they laughed reguardless. It was then that it happened, a moment NONE of them had planned for.


David:
You should have seen the look on the faces of the girls when Tony and me came out from behind those trees. And the moment was perfect, but then Allie started to attack us, and Man that girl hits hard!
We where running from her when it happened, it caused us all to stop in our tracks. The dark clearing suddenly filled with many colored bright lights. The lights seemed to come from everywhere and where such a brilliant brightness. There was also smoke and fog that appeared from no where seemingly.
The group stopped, and all of them looked at one another.
“The jokes up guys…..cut it out”
“This one isn’t us…..”
“I MEAN IT, CUT IT OUT!”
“We didn’t do it allie” Tony’s voice shook as he said it.
For a moment all of us where silent and then suddenly all of us started to scream and run from the forest at breakneck speed. None of us heard the sound of laughter in the background. The sound of our parents playing tricks on us in the dead of the night…..to keep us from going out so late again. A story they wouldn’t tell us until many many years later……The End.

Final notes: I read a book recently that was told from different points of view that gave you all the different peices. I wanted to try doing this sort of story myself.


I have written you a story!
Username: ToriKat
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange
Title: Don't Close Your Eyes
Submission:

SPOILERX

I just moved into my new apartment last week and came to the conclusion that something just did not feel right. It disturbed me enough to leave me lying in bed throughout the nights, staring at the ceiling fan as it twirled slowly as if each turn could possibly be its last. Figuring it was the dreary atmosphere, I changed the curtains and posted some art on the walls. Candles were lit, improving the scent and color in the living room. Still, there was that feeling I could not shake off.

The feeling felt strongest as I took my showers. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the stall. A bland hue of cream and off white on every other tile surrounded the three walls. A simple metal shower head extended about five inches from the wall. Two controls to set the temperature. And a narrow drain sucked the water down at a slow pace. Twice a day I would find myself in the space large enough to take two steps in any direction; once after my work out and once before bed.

I ran my fingers through my hair one evening after giving my full head of hair a rough ruffle. Leaning into the mirror, I gazed at my reflection, noticing a patch of silvery white hair. Believing it to be nothing more than a trick of the light, I moved the strands from side to side to no avail. The rich chocolate brown had been pulled from these locks of hair. I am too young to be graying. And this seemed to have happened so quickly. These were not new hairs growing in; these were well established strands of equal length to its neighbors. Wouldn’t my hairdresser have said anything when he gave me a trim?

After a particularly long run, I slipped into the shower. While that nagging feeling tugged at my gut, I still stood in that small space, my eyes closed. It was relaxing to just feel the warm water flow over me. As steam wafted, I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck rise. Alarmed by the goosebumps that riddled my skin, I opened my eyes. Searching for a reason, I found none. A slight slurping sound came from overhead. I assumed it was just the water in the pipes. Perhaps a neighbor was taking a shower too.

The white patches of hair continued to appear in my once envy inspiring head of hair. There seemed to be no pattern. Premature whitening and balding was not characteristic of my family. I didn’t experience any more stress than the usual twenty something year old out of college and working at their first job.

Right?

I rubbed my brows, feeling the knots build. I was young…and vain. Gaining age before my years was adding unnecessary concern upon my shoulders. I am competitive and driven with a level of self embellishing passion that children grow out of when they stop caring solely for themselves. My vanity lead me to dye my hair in the sink with color from a box, only to have to repeat the procedure numerous times as the bone white color spread across my head. The delicious cocoa I once donned was now a chemically manufactured mousey brown.

The skin on my nape and scalp have been dyed along with my now white head of hair. I rubbed them out of frustration and disgust. Hair dye refuses to stay longer than a day. Tonight is Halloween, so the kids will think it is some sort of odd costume. Maybe a mad scientist at best. I buttoned up my white coat and gave the candy basket a shake. I’m still moist from my shower. My scalp felt sore. I assumed it’s due to the hair dye. My reflection showed how red it is and now when I try to scrub away the tan stains on my skin, it’s tender.

“Trick or treat!”

I gathered up the bowl and swing open the door with a maniacal laugh that fills the night air. The kids squealed and ewwwed, their cacophony halting my act. I bend over to toss candies into their bags and containers.

“Ewwww,” a little girl exclaimed squeamishly as she pointed to the right side of my face. “Brains are coming out!”

I instinctively respond by touching my face. A trail of slime leads from my jawline up to my ear. I heard a slurp. Had I been pranked? How could it be possible without my knowing? Dipping my fingertips along my earlobe and into the ear canal as far as my finger is allowed, all I feel is the curious wet, sticky texture. The kids have moved onto their next destination, leaving me baffled by this goo. I retreat into my apartment silently, still trying to dig further for the source of the slime.

Once it is bedtime, I remove my cheap costume and slip into the shower. I am reminded of that odd noise from when the kids were there, laughing at my “melting brains.” It was oddly familiar. Exhaling, I close my eyes. The water feels painful against my aching scalp. But the rest of me is begging for the massaging sensation the beats of the water provides.

Slurp.

I felt something wrap around my arm. Something wet, but sticky. A similar feeling to what was leaking out of my ear earlier in the night. I try to open my eyes, but they are beyond my control. Panic builds within my chest. My heart races, pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. What is the meaning of this? My fingers twitch as if they are overtaken by spasms. Next, my arms jerk in a wild fashion. I am stuck in darkness while my body moves on its own.

After what feels like hours of a crazed, seizure like dance, my eyes open slowly. The water is still slapping at me. Without blinking to protect my sensitive eyes from the relentless fall, my vision is focused upon that shower head. An insane idea comes into my mind. With the inability to move on my own, I am left with only my thoughts.

It came from there.

Final notes: After drawing my shower head monster in Hammy's Monster Mash, I decided to elaborate further into the creature. The whole idea came from my fear of closing my eyes in the shower. There's no reason to be afraid of doing so...so I created one. I challenged myself to write about a Lovecraftian inspired monster versus the usual vampires, zombies, and ghosts. The story is too short to try to emulate Lovecraftian horror though. ^^;


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:


WOOOO 2000 on the dot!

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!


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.


Yay, it's finished!

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.


I have written you a story!
Username: Liztress
Preferred Participation Prize: Yellow
Title: The Tale of George
Submission:

SPOILERX

There was a cool breeze the fateful night, Elena begrudgingly took her younger brother trick-or-treating. The tall, ebony haired girl of sixteen groaned as she heard the voice of her brother George call out for her to wait up. Spinning on the heel of her left boot, the girl frowned as a small sheet-covered figure wobbled closer and closer.

"Lennie, you know that I can't see too good with this ghost suit on," George whined, pulling the sheet off for a second. His boyish appearance made him appear like an overgrown toddler more than the fifteen year old he was. A rare genetic condition that affected every other generation of males in their family was the cause for this.

"I told you that you should have cut out some holes to see through, George." She huffed, grabbing him by the hand as they made their way down one of the streets. Her patience was wearing thin as she had to help George put the sheet back over his mainly bald head, lead him to the doorway, and even knock on the door.

As they came to the last house on the street, a shiver ran down Elena's spine as she glanced up at the tall three-story house. Fences to divide the house's yard from the rest was unneeded as a row of dead, rotting trees lined around the building. George tugged on her hand to motion to continue on. Shaking off the bad feeling she had, Elena and George swiftly made their way to the front door.

"Can't we just head home, George?" Elena whispered hoarsely as she went to knock on the door. As soon as her pale, slightly shaking knuckles hit the door, it swung open. Expecting a rush of air to come forth towards them, Elena was unprepared for the sensation she recieved. She felt something wrap around her arm and heard her brother's bloodcurdling scream. Glancing to her left, a shadowy figure had snatched George into the air. As the figure took flight, her arm was released from the pressure.

Dumbfounded, she stood there and watched the shadow gain a form and the pearly white fangs sink into her brother's vulnerable neck. The process took only minutes but time had felt like it had came to a stall. When the vampire was finished, he simply discarded of George as if he was a rag doll. The sound of bones crunching from the impact caused the contents of Elena's stomach to force their way up and out of her mouth. Shuddering violently, she crumpled to the soiled ground.

It had taken her parents only three hours to go searching for their children. Their only living child had not moved from the spot where she had collapsed. What was odd was the disappearance of the boy's body. When asked, Elena's lips twitched but not sound could find its way out of the back of her throat.

If it had been able to, Elena's mother and father would have heard how she witnessed to murder of George. The queasy lurch in her stomach as the bones in his limp body splintered apart from the impact of his fall. Or how merely an hour later, George's corpse managed to scoot across the ground back towards the cellar doors of the old house. Instead of hearing that, her parents heard a raspy cry as they helped their daughter to the car. Many months were spent searching for poor George. After that first year had past, his family had suffered another loss. On the eve of that Halloween, Elena was found hanging from one of the trees outside her bedroom window. Tucked into her pocket was a note bearing the sentence: "I saw George."

As the years flew back, the disappearance of George and suicide of his sister faded into obscurity and the very house that they had visited was demolished. Nearly eighty years later, the story is only mentioned to frighten small children.

But one small fact that no one is able to understand is the abundance of dead rabbits that litter the site of the demolished house. All rabbits are killed in the same manner: Rough petting and strangulation. When they first started appearing the same year Elena had killed herself, both parents were quoted as saying that rabbits had always been George's favorite animal. But he was never allowed to keep one due to how rough he was in handling them as many of the animals suffered death from the very same thing these rabbits suffered from. Speculation had spread that George was still alive, locked inside his very room. Or that his ghost was haunting his family and his sister ended her life to ease the guilt of taking him to that house.

To this day, it is possible to catch a glimpse of a short boy wearing a dirtied sheet and sporting a set of black bat-like wings. One wing appears to have been ripped. People have claimed to have seen the boy's ghastly face, stating that his neck sports a gash across it and his right eye just dangles from the eye socket. He never speaks. Only moans, wails, and the occasional burst of eerie laughter are heard in his presence. In his hands is always a small bag.

Final notes: This is just the short story of a boy named George and what happened to him on Halloween. Was inspired by the description I gave for my entry in Hammy's art contest.


I hope I followed the rules right :sweat: I think I did

I have written you a story!
Username: MintyRey
Preferred Participation Prize: Orange Halloween Goodie Bag please :)
Title: Goblins Like Me
Submission:

SPOILERX



"Finish your cereal, honey."

That's what Mom told me even though none of her eyes were looking at me. She was busy preparing breakfast. I was busy watching television. My maggot flakes had gotten soggy in the milk by now but I didn't mind. I liked them that way.

"Mommu! Cerul!" came a cry from a small cage underneath the table. That's my little sister, Tasha. She's teething right now so she has to stay in her 'crib'. Yesterday, Dad made the mistake of picking her up before she ate dinner. He's still missing his two left fingers but the bones are already starting to grow back.

"No cereal for you yet dear. You have to eat your meat." replied my mother.
"Meat! Meat!" chanted Tasha, rocking her crib back and forth. I could tell she was excited but I don't know how she can stand the stuff. It's yuck in my opinion. I prefer bugs.

When Mom was done fixing the food, she slid Tasha's cage out from under the table and set a huge plateful of raw beef and chicken by it. It didn't take Tasha long to grab the pieces and spray blood all over the floor. Her trademark mess whenever she ate.

"Les, I'm ready to go!" My dad was already rushing to the door, his suitcase full of rusty tools clanging right behind him, hanging lopsidedly on his spiky tail.

"Danny, honey, don't forget your breakfast!" She quickly handed him a bag of freshly dug up corpse parts. She managed to find one with with worms crawling through the flesh, just the way Dad liked it.

"Thanks dear." he said, before giving her a kiss on the lips. Gross. I wish they wouldn't start being so lovey-dovey this early in the morning. The moon isn't even up yet.

After Dad left we finished our breakfast and Mom got us ready for school. Mom brings Tasha to preschool but I'm already in fourth grade so I catch the school bus.

"Alright Nick, stay safe! And don't talk to strangers!" Mom calls out while backing the car out of the driveway. "And no TV until you're done with homework!"

"No problem Mom!" I say with a grin.

The day was still too early so the bus hadn't arrived yet. None of my friends were at the stop yet either. Usually, the lights in the neighborhood would be out by now, but they weren't. It was very strange.

Suddenly, I felt something wrap around my arm. It was disgustingly warm and I froze where I stood. A strange tall creature stood over me.

"What are you doing here little guy? Are you lost?" It asked. From the sound of it's voice I could tell it was a lady. But what was she? Are those...fairy wings? A bead of cold sweat ran down the side of my face. I wanted to scream but my voice ditched me to face the pink, glittery fiend on my own.

"Oh, you must be with the Trick-or-Treating group from Woodbridge. Don't worry, I'll get you back to them." She continued before dragging me off to the other side of the tall, vine infested hedge. The hedge that Mom told me not to go through by myself until I was at least twelve. But it was too late. I was pulled through, with many a leaf and branch slapping at my face. What was on the other side?

Soon I found myself having to readjust my eyes to a myriad of flickering lights. Up and down the streets I could see at least a dozen pumpkins standing at the edge of the lawns. All of them had faces roughly carved into them, just like the jack-o-lanterns my Aunt Nora hangs out with. Except these are just heads. The candles within them lit up the streets in dancing orange, along with the dim, blood red, pale green, and cat's eye yellows coming from the houses. Most of the homes had large spiderwebs covering the windows and doorways. A giant spider lay on the roof of one house while another one sat in a tree across the road. Bats seemed to be everywhere. Or dead bats at least. They didn't move, but where strung up in chains across the edges of the roofs and along the fences.
One house had tombstones and fog like a graveyard. Another had just jack-o-lantern heads littered across the lawn but had a moving scarecrow.
And yet another had skeletons jumping about the front and backyard, with ghosts hung up on ropes in the tree branches. Never knew anything that could hold a ghost.

This place really was strange. Didn't these people know that furniture goes inside the house? But what really got me freaked out was what infested the streets. Dozens upon dozens of little creatures just about my height zig-zagged through the houses. Some looked like goblins like me, and others were..I...I didn't know what!

And, all of them acted strangely. Nobody flew even though they had wings. Nobody crawled or climbed, slithered, gnawed , or even floated. Even though they had claws, more than two arms, giant teeth, horns, seemingly rotting flesh, and claws, none of them moved right. What was wrong with them?

I started to panic. I had to get away and made for the bus stop.

"Hold on there, kiddo. Where are you going? Halloween's this way." She said with a disgusting grin. Before I knew it she had returned her grip on my spiny, sharp, red claws.

'Halloween!? Who's Halloween!?!' I thought to myself. I think my Dad was telling me something about him yesterday but I was probably too busy watching TV.

"By the way, nice costume. Very realistic!" My captor said with another eerie smile.

"This is isn't a costume...." I tried to say, but my voice was weak and quivering. I doubt she heard me but I didn't have the courage to re-clarify myself. Mom did say not to talk to strangers.
We stopped by a group of kids roughly around my age standing in two straight lines behind someone. As I was left at the back of a line, the fairy creature headed over to the other person to talk. Now he was less frightening than the lady. He had normal green skin, a blocky forehead, a mean look, and stiches running all over him. Perhaps he's one of my dad's patients?

As we were led towards a house, I took a good look at the faces of my group. My stomach must have done a triple flip when I realized that each kid had only two real eyes. Any other eyes were painted on or part of the fake skin they wore. And their teeth were all filed straight! No fangs at all! And why were they smiling all the time? Why didn't they twist they're face like a normal kid would? Did this Halloween person have anything to do with it?


"TRICK-OR-TREAT!!!!"
The sudden yell shocked me so much, I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I think I just had a heart attack. No, three heart attacks. After composing myself I realized that it was the other kids who had shouted the phrase. Before I could think about why they did it, I found myself standing in front of an elderly witch and a wizard. Their aged skin was freakishly devoid of warts and they only had a few wrinkles.

"Here you go young man." the old wizard said, and he held out an open orange bag before me. I looked at it before looking back at him in uncertainty.

"Go on." the fairy urged mysteriously. Then, for whatever reason, she gave me a small bag with a black cat's face on it. I looked at her before returning my gaze to the huge black bag before me. Was there something inside I was supposed to get? I was so short that I couldn't see all the way into the big bag. Cautiously I stuck my hand in. What gave me the courage to do that, I don't know, but I'm glad I did.

What I pulled out were several small, crinkly things. I thought they were bugs. I opened my hand expecting little creepy crawlies but I didn't find any. Instead, there were these round and rectangular things in wrappers, and a small box filled with a rattling something. I looked around, wondering what to do with them now and saw the other children putting what they had gotten into their little bags. So I did the same. We did this at two other houses too and for a while I wondered what was the point of all this. Then I saw the half-furry werewolf beside me open one of his crinkly things and eat it.
Food? Was it food?

I took one colorful, crinkly thing out from my bag and examined it. Didn't look like much. I opened it, once again expecting to find a bug, but no luck. What was this? It smelled...different. Not moldy or dead, but not bad either. I put it in my mouth.

It was no bug. No sir. I loved it none the less.

"What candies you got?" asked the werewolf beside me.

"Candy?" I asked.

"Yeah, candy." he said. He peered into my bag and assessed what I had. "Wanna trade that gumball for my chocolate bar?"
I had no idea what he meant but I nodded anyway. Whatever he handed me I ate right away. So this was candy.

"TRICK-OR-TREAT!!!"
I finally figured out that it was what they yelled when they wanted candy. Wish I knew that sooner.

I noticed that the ghouls who gave out candy sometimes handed more when a kid smiled widely for them. I thought I'd do the same, see if I got lucky.

"Trick-or-Treat!" I said again, just in case. Then I stretched my mouth as wide as I could. I stretched it until the corners were past my ears and almost touching at the back of my head. I was expecting a huge cluster of candies for this but once again, I found myself in for a big surprise.

The silence was short but it was nice to hear peace and quiet for the first time since I got here. Then I noticed their eyes. They were wide open and almost about to pop out. Cool!
Their faces started stretching, mouths opening wide. They didn't seem so scary anymore. And finally, the ear piercing screams. It was just like what we practice at school.
Before I knew it I was standing alone again. Alone on the porch, candy scattered at my feet. I don't know why they ran. Maybe it was part of a game. I found how they ran kinda funny. But nevermind that. I was surrounded by candy! I picked up as much as I could before moving on to the next house.

"Trick-or-Treat!!"
And with a flash of my best grin, off they ran. Screaming like awesome banshees.

I was going to head to the next house when I heard a familiar, hollow voice.
"There 'ya are Nick. What're 'ya doin'? The bus's about 'ta leave."
It was Mr. Dowell, the bus driver.

"I was just...uh..." It was hard to explain all the fun I was having.

"Oh I see, 'ya were checkin' out the Halloween celebration. I understand completely, I truly do," He looked like he was happily remembering something, but it's hard to see a phantom's face.
"But 'ya gotta put school first. Ain't 'ya gonna spend Halloween with 'ya folks? Now c'mon. Can't make everyone else late."

With that, he floated on ahead, up the street and back through the hedge. I followed right behind him with all the candy I had won. I couldn't wait to share some with my friends. I couldn't wait to tell Dad, Mom, and Tasha.

"I love Halloween!"

Final notes: Believe it or not, I was inspired by the creepy food described in the Town Hall! :XD I wanted to write about gross food an this is what happened :rofl:

I have written you a story!
Username: Esmme
Preferred Participation Prize: Hallowe'en Goodie Bag - Blue

Title: Curse of Living
Submission:

SPOILERX


Stepping out of the café, the tall woman shook her head. College classes were kicking her butt that term, soaking up all of her free time, and making relaxation impossible. As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, she grumbled a complaint about pushy teachers.
”Look out!”
The man’s scream frightened Lana, making her spin about. She was shocked by what she saw. There, standing before her, was a bloody child. Her blank eyes were wide, and her lips were pulled back in a hideous snarl.
Lana almost reached forward to call to the girl when she let out a gurgling groan. The noise was something like a toad caught in a trash compacter. Taking a step back, Lana shook her head, her auburn hair falling into her face. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a shaky voice, continuing to back away.
The child lifted a gored hand, seemingly ignorant to the pain she must have been feeling. It looked as though she’d been put in a pit with savage dogs . . . and never made it out. Only, here she was, standing in the middle of New York.
Lana looked to the man who had shouted at her earlier, and let out a surprised yelp. He was dead. All that was left of him was a gored, bloody mess on the sidewalk. What’s going on?
The shaking youth was then attacked. It happened suddenly, knocking her off balance. With a snapping jaw, the little girl had rammed into her, forcing Lana to the ground. Letting out a scream of horror, the woman tried to force the girl away from her. It was no use. Her strength couldn’t even begin to equal the child’s.
Slippery with blood from the attacker, Lana shoved the girl aside, scrambling to her feet and running in the opposite direction. “Somebody help me!” She shrieked, her breath coming in sharp gasps. By the time her legs felt like noodles, Lana had realized the severity of her situation. She was in the middle of New York, and some sort of curse had let hell loose on earth. What else could explain the zombies that were suddenly lifting themselves from bloody puddles on the street?
I have to get out of here! Lana was beginning to panic, the fluttering of her own heart making her jump at shadows that never moved. Unable to calm her shaking breath, she ran toward the subway station. It was the only way to get out of the city. She had to make it out, and quickly. There had to be some chance of survival.
The subway station’s lights flickered, but the sound of gunfire made Lana cry out in relief. Shoving her self into the stairway, she called out to the people she knew were there. “Hello? Somebody down here?” Her voice grew higher in pitch as she descended into the darkness, and her dilated pupils darted about as the woman tried to identify her surroundings. She screamed louder than ever when Lana felt something wrap about her arm.
“Shut up!” the man barked, clapping a hand over her mouth. “You’ll bring them to us!”
Nodding frantically, Lana clung to her new savior like life itself. In truth, he was the only thing that stood between her, and the horde of zombies that was pouring down the stairs. Her voice had called in the monsters . . . and there seemed to be no end to them.
“Get into the train car!” The male said gruffly, setting his aim before letting loose a burst of rounds. Cold blood splashed about the room, coating walls and tile floors in a slippery film.
Lana didn’t need to be told twice . . . she turned and ran without thinking. Her panic didn’t allow her to think; she reacted with instinct – and instinct said to get into the only safe place available.
The car was full, shoved full with too many people. Children were crying, people were coughing, and others merely lay still – deathly still. None of these things registered in Lana’s mind as she curled up in the only available spot. Near the back of the car, she sat on the floor, squeezing past some woman and her crying baby. It was loud, but it was worth the safety.
Listening to the gunfire as it started to fade, Lana shivered in her place. Wrapping her arms about herself, the young woman closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. This . . . curse . . . was something that hit so suddenly, no one knew what to expect. Would there be any survivors?
It was then that the gunners returned to the train, yelling out to each other to get things going. They needed to get out of the city before it was too late.
The shot up corpses began to shamble toward the train just as it lurched forward, doors closing. Lana let out a nervous laugh as they sped away into the dark tunnels. Her head sank against her legs, and she let her fear slowly melt away. They were safe. There were survivors. And she was one of them. [i]I will not die.[/url]
-

The constant motion of the train took its toll on Lana, lulling her to sleep. Nothing could wake her – she always was a dead sleeper. It wasn’t the noise that woke the woman . . . it was the thick silence. Slowly opening her eyes, Lana’s breathing sped up as her heart went into overdrive. No baby crying, no coughing old woman, no shifting in seats . . . no one moved.
“Hello?” Lana whispered, afraid to speak loudly. When no one replied, her tears began to fall. Shaking mightily, the auburn-haired college student stood from her spot on the floor, inching her way toward the front of the car. Maybe she could get to the driver and see what was going on.
Trying not to touch any of the unmoving forms that slumped in their seats, Lana gulped down painful breaths, tripping over her own clumsy feet more than once. She reached the adjoining door that led to the next train section – but too late.
Someone moved. Someone let out an inhuman groan. Lana foolishly glanced back, only to see that the gunner had filled up the open space behind her. He reached forward, gnashing his bloody teeth.
Lana screamed. “No! No, please no!”
Backing against the door, she slammed at the handle, trying to open it. Her trembling fingers and panicked vision allowed no such thing. It was the stone-cold touch of the gunner that pressed her against the hard surface, uncaring if it grinded her back against the door.
“NO!! Somebody help me!” Lana’s cries were never heard by living ears.
-

The train eventually stopped, making it to it’s final destination. With no lights, the power dying, and seemingly no one on board, the authorities were immediately suspicious. Unfortunately, the first man to open the sealed train cars was only the first of many others. The curse would consume all in its path – everyone.


Final notes: I was listening to some creepy music when I typed this out. If you want a tragedy, read on! :sweat:

Last edited by Lise; 11-14-2010 at 09:22 PM..

musasgal
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#5
Old 10-31-2010, 12:51 AM

for the phrase, can we change the 'arm' with another part of the body (i.e leg, neck etc)?

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#6
Old 10-31-2010, 01:26 AM

OOOH Yay! Another Story Competition! *Begins Writing Madly* I'd better finish this today before NaNoWriMo Begins!

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#7
Old 10-31-2010, 01:40 AM

I usually don't write, but I think I'll give it a shot this time! I have quite an imagination :)

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#8
Old 10-31-2010, 02:20 AM

Oooh tough...
If my school work doesn't get to be too mcuh -because I know I've got a couple tests coming up and other things to write- I'll try to give you something worth reading Lise.

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#9
Old 10-31-2010, 02:56 AM

I have written you a story!
Username: Carzeebear
Title: Marked.
Preferred Participation Prize: Green
Submission:

SPOILERX

They tell me this bed is haunted. That the last girl to sleep here died. I refuse to die. I refuse to submit to a curse, to a haunting. I have too much to do.

Those are the words that I wrote in my diary on the first day of school. Now I’m not so sure. I’ve been here a month, and there are strange things going on. Only yesterday did I fall down the stairs on the way down to breakfast. I hope that was merely coincidence, but something tells me it isn’t.

“Chris!” A familiar voice beckons me for assembly. I sigh, Kelly is always after me to do better in school, but to be honest, I’m not sure it matters anymore. I’m here because my family couldn’t bear to look at me anymore. Not since Katherine died. Katherine was my identical twin, and she died in a car crash at the end of last year. I feel her loss, sure, but it doesn’t rule me. It didn’t break me. It did break my parents, so here I am, sleeping in a haunted bed, in a boarding school miles from home. Oh well, it’s time to go to assembly, or Kelly will murder me. Hah, maybe then I’ll be haunting this bed instead of the other girl.
“I’m coming!” I yell back exasperatedly. Assembly. This is going to be boring.
“Well hurry up then!” She yells back and I hurry downstairs to join her. “Oh Chris, uniform?” I look down and realise that I’m still wearing my pyjamas.
“This is what they get for holding assemblies at seven on a Saturday, Kell.”
“Fine. Come on.” She takes me by the arm and drags me to assembly. Neither of us can help but laugh at the ridiculous picture we must make. Her in school uniform dragging me along in my pyjamas.

As predicted, this assembly is boring. It’s all the headmistress, talking on, and on, and on, about uniform. Oh, uniform. Dang! I realise that she’s probably glaring at me, but I don’t dare look. Suddenly I feel something wrap around my arm. Is it a hand? I turn, but see nothing on either side of me.
“There’s no escape.” A girl’s voice whispers nastily in my ear. I turn again and there’s nobody there. What is going on?!
As we are being let out of assembly I realise something. The ghost is catching up with me. How can this be? It’s not real, just a prank on the new girl... right? That voice seems to disagree with me. It’s back. With its, or should I say her eerie message. “There’s no escape.” That may be what ghostie thinks, but I know differently. There’s always an escape. I go to the roof. Not to jump. To think.

Even here there’s a voice in my ear, but her message has changed. “Death is an escape.” She whispers her curse in my ear. “Your sister escaped.” That scares me, how does a ghost know about my sister? “If you know it, I know it. You’ve been marked.”
“Marked for what?” I speak to the open air of the roof.
“Guess.”
“Oh Ha, Ha, Ha.”
“You could escape if you wanted to.”
“Never.”

I was resolved to live.
My resolve wouldn’t break.
Or so I thought.
I tell you this story as a warning.

“You’ve been marked.”

Final notes: It's short, and not my best work, but I was rushed! Silly brothers.

Last edited by Bearzy; 11-04-2010 at 04:09 AM..

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#10
Old 10-31-2010, 03:00 AM

Eek, I'm already at 1200 words xD

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#11
Old 10-31-2010, 03:14 AM

O.o I think mine is 500? Something like that.

EDIT: Just checked.. 591.

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#12
Old 10-31-2010, 03:29 AM

I have written you a story!
Username: Kultura
Title:
Submission:

SPOILERX

The rain tapped on the windows of the 92 Ford Escort, it was so heavy that the sound of the old car’s noisy engine was barely audible. Rhys sat in the passenger seat, playing a game on his PSP while his mother, who was driving, sang along to Papa Don’t Preach on the radio. Rhys rolled his eyes. At least it’s just us, he thought, it would be much worse if anyone else were here. It was approaching 8PM, it was already dark and they were travelling along a poorly lit road. “Are you even going the right way, mum?” Rhys asked. He was tired and bored. They had come from his mother’s cousin’s wedding, and had been driving for hours now. He just wanted to get to the hotel, sleep, and then make the rest of the journey home tomorrow.
“Of course I’m going the right way!” his mum said, smiling. “We should be at Premier Inn soon.” Yeh, I hope so, Rhys thought. As well as wanting to sleep, he wanted to smoke. Badly. There was no way he could light up in front of his mother, even though he was 18. She would be so mad.
It was close to 10PM before Rhys and his mum reached the hotel they were staying at. His mum parked the car, and he carried their luggage to their rooms. It was a plain room, the walls were painted cream, on the wall was a small window with terracotta curtains, there was a little pine nightstand with a phone and a lamp, and in the middle of the room, a single bed. Rhys put down his bags and fell back onto the bed. It wasn’t much but he was glad to be out of the car. There was no TV in his room, so he turned on his PSP again.
Rhys waited until his mother switched off her lights before he decided to smoke a cigarette. He rummaged through his suitcase, finding the box of Mayfair hidden in a sock. He looked around the room, and was disappointed to see a smoke alarm. Of course there would be a smoke alarm, he thought, of course. He didn’t even need to look out of the window to tell it was still raining, as he could hear it beating against the window. He sighed and pulled on a hoody.
Outside, it was not only wet but cold. A strong wind blew against Rhys, and a fog was started to form. Rhys stood near the front door of the hotel, trying to get shelter from the rain and wind so he could light his cigarette. A security man, wearing a green suit and with an obnoxious nametag telling Rhys his name was “RYAN” asked him to step away from the door if he was going to smoke. Brilliant, Rhys thought. It was after 11PM by now. He was cold, wet and agitated, but still determined to have a cigarette. He walked down the street until he came to an old theatre building, with a huge doorway that he could stand under for shelter. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, it was a relief. He didn’t even notice the door behind him opening. He felt something wrap around his arm.
“Argh” Rhys jumped in shock. He looked around, and saw that it was an old woman holding his arm, and quite firmly too. “You can’t smoke here!” she said, in a cold, raspy voice.
“Go away, I’ll do what I want”, Rhys replied, taking another drag.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?” This hit Rhys hard, his mum was all he had and he didn’t like bad things being said about her. He remained silent and looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he threw the cigarette on the ground.
“There”, he said. “Gone. Whatever.”
The lady stared at him, making eye contact. Rhys quickly looked away, thinking that it was starting to get really creepy. “Why don’t you come inside for tea?” the lady asked him, her tone of voice much different now, almost soft. “I can read your tea leaves for you.” Rhys rolled his eyes.
“How much does that cost?”
“Only five pounds.”
He had a £20 note in his pocket, and thought he might as well. He was cold and decided a cuppa would be nice before he started the walk back to the hotel, even if it were with a creepy lady who lived in an old theatre building. He followed her into the building, the door slamming behind him.
She led him up a grand staircase, into a small room with a fireplace, a table and a couple of arm chairs. “Sit down” she told him, smiling. “This building used to be my grandfather’s. It was very successful in its day!” She continued while putting an old steel kettle over the fire, “We have no idea what happened though. It’s almost as if the building was cursed”. She frowned and paused for a minute, before sitting down. “What’s your name, boy?” she asked.
“Rhys,” he answered, “Rhys Johnston.”
“I’m Eliza.” She put out her frail old hand to shake his. The kettle whistled, indicating that the water was boiled. Rhys began to feel awkward and just wanted to leave.
Eliza poured tea for both of them, and stared at Rhys as she sipped on it. Rhys gulped his down as quickly as he could, burning his throat. He didn’t care, he just wanted to go as soon as possible. Eliza took the cup and looked at the leaves. “Ah, grave misfortune is heading your way, Rhys Johnston, you ha-...”
“Ok, thanks” Rhys interrupted, standing up. “I have to go now, my mum is probably worried about me.”
“Ah yes, of course” Eliza answered, holding out her hand.
Rhys stared for a moment, wondering what she wanted. “Oh, I forgot.” He went into his pocket and handed the lady the £20 pound note. She had told him it would cost £5 and so he expected change, but instead, Eliza just nodded her head. “Goodbye, Rhys Johnston. Take care.”
“What?” Rhys looked at her in disbelief. “Could I, um, have my change please?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb with me you old hag! Give me my money!”
“Now Rhys, watch what you are saying. Please leave now before I call the police.”
Rhys was so angry. There was no way he was losing out on £20 for absolutely nothing. He swore at her, and shouted again “Give me my money, you old hag!”
Eliza stared at him, muttering under her breath. What now, Rhys thought. Her stare was fixed on him, she did not even blink. Her eyes grew wider, and rolled back into her head. All the time she was muttering, whispering something. Rhys froze with fear. Eliza stopped her whispering, her eyes went back to normal and she sat down. She looked exhausted.
“Now go” she said, in the same raspy tone as when she first spoke.
Rhys didn’t need to be told twice, and ran back to the hotel. He peeled off his wet clothes, threw on an old tshirt and tracksuit bottoms and lay in bed, pulling the covers up over his head. He had never run as fast in his life, he was out of breath and despite the rain and cold of outside, he was sweating. He went over and over what had just happened in his head, trying to make some sense of it. All he could think was “What the hell?”
If he hadn’t been exhausted from rushing back to the hotel, Rhys would not have fallen asleep. What he had seen that night frightened him. It plagued his dreams, playing over and over. He woke with a start, and sat up. His LED watch lit up the red numbers 12:45. He had only been sleeping about half an hour. He lay down again, and froze. He was not alone in his bed. He shut his eyes tight and turned around. This is a dream, he told himself, just a dream. He turned around in the bed, and slowly opened his eyes.
“Jesus Christ!” he screamed, jumping out of the bed. Beside him in the bed was what could only be described as a charred corpse, but with piercing orange eyes. Rhys stood beside the window, frozen with fear, staring in disbelief as the figure began to rise for the bed and limp slowly towards him. It swung for him, its long fingernails slashing his tshirt and tearing the skin on his chest. “MUM!” Rhys screamed, running passed the monster into the en suite bathroom that joined both their rooms. He turned on the light, locked the door, but heard scratching from the other side. “MUM MUM MUM!” he called.
The light turned off. The scratching stopped. Silence. Rhys stopped breathing. Then he realised that this wasn’t be choice, that he physically could not breathe. It felt as though someone, something was choking him. He put his hands around his throat, but nothing was there to be stopped. His throat felt tight, tears streamed down his face and he thought he was going to die.
Suddenly, the lights came back on, and he heard his mother knocking on the door. “Rhys?” she called. “Rhys, open the door, what’s wrong?” He opened the door and started telling his mother about this thing in his bed. “Rhys, you’re 18 now. You know none of that was real, it was a nightmare!”
“But... My tshirt...” He began to protest. He looked down. His tshirt was intact. Maybe it was a dream. “Um, sorry mum. I’m going to go back to bed now.” Rhys felt stupid as he climbed back into bed. It had to be a dream, he told himself. As he lay looking at the ceiling, laughing at himself, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He lifted his tshirt , revealing 4 deep scratches. The blood had dried around them, but they were there. “What?”
Again, Rhys was beat by exhaustion and fell asleep. He woke in the morning, at 8AM as his alarm had been set. Instantly he remembered the nights’ events, but in his half-sleeping state he wasn’t sure if it actually had happened or not. He walked, sleepily to the bathroom and took off his tshirt. Looking in the mirror, his eyes grew wide and he broke a cold sweat. His nose was bleeding. Behind him in his reflection was the corpse. He spun around, but seen nothing. It was still in the reflection though, just staring at him. Rhys closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but when he opened them again the being was still behind him. He noticed then the reflection of his chest. He looked down, seeing the same four scratched from the night before. He looked at his reflection again, where instead of the scratches on his chest were words, carved deep into his skin and bleeding, reading “GRAVE MISFORTUNE”.



I'm really not much of a writer. I guess I have good imagination for stories, but when it comes to writing them, I'm just useless with words. xD

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#13
Old 10-31-2010, 05:32 AM

I have written you a story!
Username: fishyfey
Title: Voodoo Mamba
Submission:

SPOILERX

Auntie Sara scrubbed the bloodstain off her basement floor. She calls it "sacrificing" a goat to the gods. I call it murder.

"I know you're up there little Peggy. Don't be hiding yourself on the stairs like some sort of thief. I don't want to see you up to no mischief tonight. Come down and help me clean up this mess." Auntie Sara said in her thick southern drawl.

I peeled my hands away from the banister and slowly descended to the grey basement floor.

"Don't just stand there like a lazy lump. Come over here and help me." Auntie Sara said.

I tried to walk towards her, but my feet stayed stuck in place. "I can't Auntie." I said in a small voice.

Auntie Sara stopped cleaning the bloodstain, put her hands on her round hips, and stared at me. You never want to see that expression on any adults face. It means that you ought to suck it up right now and do as you're told lest you get into a load of trouble. My feet wouldn't move even though I told them to please walk towards Auntie. I don’t think that my feet understood what was at stake here. If we didn't get over there Auntie was going to beat my bottom red. Maybe my feet didn't care about that, but my bottom surely did.

I decided that in order to avoid a beating I would do my best to stall. "Why did you have to kill that goat?" I asked.

She looked at me for a moment longer with that hard, angry expression on her face
and then walked up to me. Her green eyes softened and she sat on the bottom stair, patting the area beside her. "Sit with me for a moment little Peggy." Auntie said.

I sat.

"There's some things happening that are just too big for little girls to understand. But." She sighed. "I'll try my best to explain it to you. You're a sweet girl and deserve to know the truth of things."

"Do you know why your mama left you with me when you were just a little baby?"
I shook my head no. I had no memories of my mother. Sometimes I imagined her coming home and hugging me and laughing with me. Then she would take my hand and bring me with her to a new life. It would be a dream come true if that ever happened.

"She left you with me because your mama had no money and no man to take care of her. Your father stayed with her long enough to get her pregnant and then ran out on her as soon as he found out. Didn't want to be a daddy I guess."

"Your mama never learned any of the dark arts so she didn't know that all we would need to get even with your father was a lock of his hair. Naturally when she dropped you off here she didn't have it with her. It's been six years since then, but I've figured out how to finally make things right. I managed to 'acquire' a few strands of his hair and immediately set to work making the strongest curse of my life. That man is going to pay for making your mama into a drunk without enough common sense to keep her from driving off that bridge. He will pay for everything." Auntie Sara's eyes burned with hatred. "That goat I killed was a blood sacrifice to the gods. His death will ensure the success of my curse."

"What will your curse do to him?" I asked.

She smiled a wicked self indulgent smile. "Why don't you see for yourself." She patted my shoulder absently. "He is coming over tonight."

I stiffened. "What? My father is coming here tonight!"

"Yes." Auntie Sara said before standing up. "Go play upstairs if you won't help me clean up the blood."

I was up the stairs before she finished the sentence. Then I paced the kitchen waiting to see my father for the first time. When I finally sat down on our overstuffed couch I felt something wrap around my arm. My fat cream colored cat snuggled close to my body purring, while I fidgeted impatiently.

Hours later I was a jittery mess, but finally there was a gentle tapping on the front door. Auntie Sara swept forward and opened the door with a flourish. "So nice of you to join us James." She said in a falsely sweet tone. I stepped forward, excited in spite of myself.

"What have you done to me?" Mumbled a deep voice that cracked in despair.

"I've given you what you deserved." Auntie Sara said. "For abandoning my sister."

Inside the doorway stood something that may have once been a man. Supposedly it was my father, but you would never know it by looking at him. His skin was sunken and blue, his cloths dirty and rotting off his body, and his eyes were shriveled in their sockets.

I stepped back involuntarily. "You didn't leave my mother… you died." I said to the creature. "And you brought him back…" I said to my Auntie.

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#14
Old 10-31-2010, 01:48 PM

Ooh, I might try this out if I have some spare time. You guys are such fast writers xD

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#15
Old 10-31-2010, 01:49 PM

I'm definitely doing it this time. :)

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#16
Old 10-31-2010, 03:48 PM

I have written you a story!
Username: Emiko_Firecaster
Title:
submission prize: any bag but orange
Submission:

SPOILERX

Um does anyone else feel that?" Looking back Mark couldn't help shivering as the ghastly faces of his friends stare back at him in shock.

"Feel what?" the voice belonged to the scaredy cat of the group.

Mark frowned. He could clearly feel something on his arm, clinging to the hairs on his arms and dragging as he moved. Shining his light at it he was relieved to see that it was merely a spider web that had brushed his forearm.

Sighing slightly in agitation, he motioned for the rest of the students to follow him before continuing on. "Alicia, can you come up her a moment?" Motioning for her to move forward he spoke in a slightly hushed tone. "Hey there should be a room up ahead... can you check it out?"

Alicia after nodding moved up past Mark, rewarding him with a good view of her backside, something that Mark wasn't going to mention. Alicia, popping out of sight to check the room, was only moments before she popped back up, and motioning it was safe, signaled that the rest of them should come, quickly.

Mark lead the rest of the group inside where after receiving a helping hand down from Alicia, turned around and helped the rest, while the ones already down started to explore the room for supplies.

Flash backs happen all the time, but it was a first for Mark as he sat down to take a moments break that he had one about the events leading up to where they were now.

:1 HOUR EARLIER:

"Hey Mark, hurry up!" His elementary friend, Alicia teased as she ran backwards ahead of him. "We're going to be left behind!" Smiling Mark broke into a light jog, catching up to Alicia quickly, then, when she turned to run along side, the rest of the group. They had come to visit the hospital as med students, the teacher wanting them to "see how doctors worked."

Marked was quick to dodge one of the doctors as they came flying out of the room, but wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the intern that came out almost right after. This resulted in a big crash, and a lot of cussing as both he and the intern fell into the back of the group, knocking about half the group down. Turns out that that saved their lives, as the teacher, not caring that the students had gone down, continued on with the rest of the class about 50 feet, before a horrendous tearing sound filled the air.

Mark could only watch in amazement as the hallway where the teacher was walking less then a second ago, was suddenly filled with collapsing dirt, walls, and roof, and more groaning filled the air, as the walls around them groaned from the weight above them.

The intern running off was killed by a bit of falling roof when he ran from the pile. The rest of the kids, Mark included were a bit lucky as part of the floor collapsed dumping the kids into a maintenance shaft below them.

:PRESENT TIME:

"Hey Mark, no time for sleeping, we need to figure out what to do" Alicia's worried tone brought mark back to the present as she gently shook him.

"Huh? Oh! Right, sorry lost in thought for a moment there" Mark apologized for his lack of focus before sitting down with the rest of his class mates. Hope teacher made it out ok...Mark had one last thought before he got down to the business at hand. "Ok, first we need a leader, so that if we get stuck down here, we don't become animals. Second.... well we'll get there when we get there. Any volunteers for leadership?" As one one of the girls raised there hands Marks eyes cut to her "Yes? you want to be leader, Sheena?"

Sheena shook her head and looked at Mark, "Actually? No. I was going to suggest that you become leader."

Mark couldn't help the frown that crossed his features. "why me?"

Sheena smiled as if Mark had asked her a simple question, "Because, you have kept your head in this situation so far, not to mention no one else, as far as I know, wants to become the leader, so why not you?"

Sheena's words had surprised mark, as well as everyone's heads bobbing in agreement, even Alicia's. "Very well, if that's what you want... then ok...." Mark was still a little hesitant but he accepted it with a shrug.

That done, Mark, the appointed leader looked around and was surprised, as was everyone else, by a dog sitting in the middle of the room. "Well, hello boy." He greeted the dog "How did you get in here?" Moving toward the dog he couldn't help but notice that it looked like a wolf, nor the fact that the wolf just seemed to sit there, and didn't pounce on any of them.

Moving closer to it he spotted a name tag with the name shino ryouken. Not thinking anything of the name, Mark merely patted the thing on the head. "Wonder how he got in here... think he could lead us out of here?" Asking the group he was surprised when the dog got up and walked over to a pile of rocks and pawed at it. Shrugging he walked over to it and started to move the rocks with his hands and is surprised when a large hole is revealed, a hole large enough for them all to pass through. leaping up the group gathered around and cleared out the tunnel quickly. "alright, shall we continue then?" at everyone's nod he lead the way into the tunnel.

The group continued to follow the dog through the tunnel, and through various other collapsed tunnels and vents for the next fifty minutes until they were on the bottom floor, and the door way was in sight. At this point the group broke and ran for the door to be greeted by an crowd of ambulances, and rescue teams.

It only took a second for some of the group to realize the dog was not with them, and turning to look back they were surprised that the dog remained sitting in the door way. walking back towards the dog, the group was surprised to see a pale figure join the dogs side. as they stood dumbfounded they could only stare on as the man disappeared followed by the dog.

It wasn't until many years later, when searching for the name of the dog he had seen that Mark stumbled upon an article about a man who had died in the hospital in an earthquake in 1985, and the dog who stayed by his side the entire time.

Final notes: actually? it was your phrase,
Quote:
"I felt something touch my arm"
I posted that as the beginning and the story just seemed to form, as if my fingers were a medium for the words to pass through to form a story.
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Last edited by emiko_firecaster; 11-06-2010 at 03:14 PM.. Reason: added the submission prize bit after i submitted my story

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#17
Old 10-31-2010, 04:01 PM

I have written you a story!
Username: Gummybug
Title: Trick Or Treat chuckled the grinning cat

SPOILERX

The night was strangely dark, the moon shone upon the water, and as graven threw a pebble into the midnight water it traces ripples across its surface, and distorted the sky. The wind howled through the trees and the tree house creaked. Graven had been sat there for a while and no one had come. It was getting cold and dark but he would wait. He didn’t care about what his mother thought, in fact he couldn’t care less. His phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open. A new message, He read it out loud,
‘Sorry I can’t make it today. Maybe next year…’ Graven Sighed. ‘Typical. She stood me up last year…’ he pulled his hood over his head and jumped down. It wasn’t far down but it still stung when he hit the floor. He looked around and pulled his Halloween jacket around his shoulders, and put his mask on. He was much too old to go trick or treating but he still enjoyed it. He walked down and watched as little kids went knocking on doors in the doors, it seemed stupid. He walked down to a door that no one had knocked on. He Taped on the door with his finger, the door opened slightly and a old man looked out. Graven peered through the door.
‘Trick or treat?’ he mumbled.
‘GET OUR OF HERE!’ the old man yelled and slammed the door
Graven sighed ‘stupid idiot’ me mumbled and stepped back. He turned quickly and walked away. He felt something wrap around his arm, he turned sharply, and looked around, there was a thick black line flowing out of the door, it looked like ink, he pulled his arm away but it tightened. He pulled more but it tightened more and cut his arm. He shouted, the ribbon pulled him closer to the door, he shouted for the people around him, It seemed no one could see him, he pulled against it but hit arm went THROUGH to door, The rippled spread across the door, the rest of his body followed, As his head went through his shouts echoed through his head. His feet touched a cold floor. That’s odd. Didn’t he just?- oh well. He thought, he could see things, but he couldn’t make out what it was, It just looked fuzzy. He stepped forward and reached out for it, but he couldn’t reach it. Suddenly, a black, oily looking cat walked out behind it. Its fur was moving around, and flowing all over its body, but the cat, unlike what it was stood in front of, He could see it very clearly. He walked forwards but it felt like he was walking through thick mud, His feet kept getting stuck in the black floor and it began splashing up his legs, This wasn’t good, He couldn’t even see half of his legs anymore and it crept up further, he bend down and tried to scrape it off, But his hand just went through here his leg SHOULD be. He looked at his hand in shock, and stepped forward again, the cat turned to face him, It had a huge grin on its face, and its eyes where gold and flowing, like its body,
‘HEY!’ he shouted over to it in desperation ‘C-CAN YOU HELP?’
The cat walked towards him slowly, Not having any trouble with the dark mud, still grinning with its sharp teeth. Now the mud had crept up to his hips, it felt cold, not too cold, But it hurt. He reached out for the cat, it sad down on the floor. He suddenly noticed, Blood was dripping from the gaps in its teeth, he pulled his hand back and the cat started walking to him again, He stepped back, But his ‘foot’ got stuck in the mud and he fell over. The mud flowed over his body, He shouted for help but the mud filled his mouth. He couldn’t breath, Hear, see or speak, He tried yelling but no sound would come out.
He could only see black. But there was the cat. Glowing, Standing out for the darkness
‘Trick’ the cat chuckled in a sly tone

Final notes: I dont know xD i just kinda got carried away by the end :P
Im not sure what inspired me, Nothing realy... But my sister was listening to s creepy song xD So yea. I hope its okay :)

The opening the spoiler thing wont work for me, But se if you can :)

Last edited by gummybug; 10-31-2010 at 04:06 PM.. Reason: I forgot the title and unsername!

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#18
Old 10-31-2010, 04:12 PM

click on the right side, when your pointer changes from text insert to pointer on the blue bar

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#19
Old 10-31-2010, 05:02 PM

I have written you a story!
Username: Clair Voyant
Title: A Crimson Haunting in White Snow
Submission:

SPOILERX

Clair had been warned and warned time and time again about the curse of this field. Just beyond the church, past the cemetery, the stretching, rolling fields, where once a rich farmer had planted and harvested crops, was a place to avoid. Those who wandered there were never seen again, but that was a creepy story to frighten children into behaving and from wandering too far from home. Clair knew that, everyone did.
The day had started lovely, despite the heavy, gray clouds the cast an odd grayish glow over the world, it had been a nice Halloween day. It had been a perfect day for a bit of Halloween exploring. Now that Clair and her friends were older, trick or treating was no longer a desirable activity. What better place to go explore than the supposed haunted and cursed, abandoned farming fields?
How Clair wished that she had listened to the warnings. It was too late, now. Her friends were gone, and Clair was left to escape alone.
The howling wind whipped snow flakes that pricked the skin like millions of little needles through the air. It was unlike any Halloween Clair had ever seen. She’d witnessed snow falling in small, soft showers in October over the years, but never had she seen snow on Halloween. And this was not a gentle, lazy snow shower, but a hard, cruel blizzard. The deep, drifting snow made her escape towards the church more difficult. She longed so badly it made her heard ache, to be be able to flee quickly and easily from her stalker.
She knew he was out there, somewhere. Clair hoped, prayed, that he was far behind her, but she couldn’t be sure. The snow fell a such a dense and quick pace that it stung her eyes and face when she tried to scan around her and though she bared her teeth and faced the stinging snow in her eyes, there was little to be seen. The wind blew the snow so hard it washed visibility to scarcley a few yards ahead and behind.
It was perfect weather, Clair thought, for a predator to hunt and strike.
Pressing forward, her body bowed against the wind, Claire tried to keep herself calm. It would only slow her already deathly slow trudging to panic. However, she could not fight the fear back and her mind seemed to play through gore and death she’d seen like a slide show.
Images of crimson hand and foot prints stained into the perfect whiteness; evidence of fleeing prey and an assailant. She’d never seen so much blood, and though she could not have known exact amount of spilled crimson in the snow, Clair knew in the pit of her stomach that the prey had not been able to escape death. She was determined, though, to cheat death’s grasp.
If I could only see where I was going I would have a better chance. I would know where the church is, Clair thought. But then again, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see. Perhaps, if she could see, she would realize that she’d made it to safety. Then again, a bigger part of her knew that she would not like what she saw if visibility cleared.
Suddenly, as if some unknown force had read her mind, the snow fall around her lessened, as if the wind had paused to catch its breath. Immediately, Clair could see much farther, and what she saw struck her with such an overpowering terror, she stood paralyzed. Dread boiled up in the pit of her stomach, churning around and growing into panic that rose up through her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her mouth dropped open as she realized that she’d come in a complete circle. She stood now in the middle of bloodied, spoiled snow.
Clair couldn’t be sure exactly what caused her to turn around, she could not remember hearing a sound over the wind, but it didn’t matter. Now facing the direction from which she’d come, Clair could see the shadowed figure slowly, but easily coming towards her. Tears of fear, anger and frustration welled and spilled from her eyes and her wind burned cheeks as they slid slowly towards her chin. The whole time, she’d been in a trap; the whole time, she’d been walking towards her fate, rather than away.
She could now see the glowing, piercing red eyes of her stalker, and felt and odd pain rising from her throat and in her ears. Clair did not realize she was screaming. There was no place to run. The fields were endless, it seemed. She’d tried her best to escape to the church, to hollowed ground, but she’d failed.
Clair fell to her knees; she could feel a burning, cold wetness seeping through her jeans. Her eyes squeezed shut. She tried to hug herself, as if attempting to put up a shield, a barrier to keep the attacker away, but she felt something wrap around her arm, pulling it roughly away from her body, leaving her feeling exposed.
The wind picked up again, and it howled and whistled around Clair. She could feel the painful, harsh pricks of snow against her cheeks and eye lids. Then, a horrible, sharp, slashing pain in her neck. Her last screams could not be heard over the howling wind. Her blood was hidden under the beautiful white snow.

Final notes: I was actually inspired for this story by two things. One, today is actually a very snowy stormy-ish Halloween day for me, the first I've ever seen on Halloween, and two, by a line in the sermon my Pastor gave this morning at church that went something like: Let the white snow hide the crimson marks. ^^ Anyways, I really hope this is okay for an entry.
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CADFND
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#20
Old 10-31-2010, 06:06 PM

I'll try my best to write you a good Halloween story! :D This shall be my warm up for NaNoWriMo!

Clair Voyant
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#21
Old 10-31-2010, 06:26 PM

@ Cad:: OH! I had almost forgotten NaNoWriMo! o.o

CADFND
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#22
Old 10-31-2010, 06:59 PM

@Clair - ^^ I'm excited for it. Are you?

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#23
Old 10-31-2010, 07:15 PM

Totally! It's always really fun! :boogie: I love writing.

CADFND
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#24
Old 10-31-2010, 07:28 PM

I agree. ^^ it'll be my first time participating. What about you?

Clair Voyant
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#25
Old 10-31-2010, 08:00 PM

I attempted and failed miserably last year. xD It was my Senior year of High School, so I was really distracted.
This year, it's my Freshman year of College... so, I might fail at it again. ^^ But I love to write, so I'm gonna try again anyways. xD

 


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