Share your imagination| write fiction/non-fiction, fantasies of vampires and Dragons and unknown worlds…
Share your imagination| write fiction/non-fiction, fantasies of vampires and Dragons and unknown worlds…
Over The Wall
1953 New Berlin,England
The sound of bullets wakes me up. I hear screams and cries and harsh German voices. I jump to my feet as blood fills the air around me. The Germans have found us. They’ve found on the night before our plan was going to take action. I try to run, but so is everyone else so I’m just pushed along with the crowd. I was lucky because I was sleeping near the door, but the people at the back weren’t so fortunate. But just then, the twin iron doors burst open and a dozen more German soldiers march in. They raise their rifles and the the first row of people are mown down. I curse and look around for Jill, my little sister. I spot her amidst the crowd and hurry over.
“Jill!” I yell over the noise. “The tunnel!” Her eyes widen in fear and understanding and she nods and begins to run. I follow after her, dodging bullets and bunkers and slipping on a pool of blood on more than one occasion. When we eventually reach the tunnel opening, I push aside the bed that covers it and motion for Jill to get in. She hesitates, taking a final look at the people who we can’t save and are all doomed to die by the Nazi hand. But then, a bullet narrowly misses her right ear and she jumps in quickly.
I too, look around at the people,most of whom I didn’t like, but still, none of them deserved to die. Suddenly, the doors slam open again and the first beast leaps in. I am now completely out of time and so I step down, pulling the trapdoor behind me just as the beast spots me and starts to run.
It’s been almost eight years since Germany won World War 2 and London was renamed as New Berlin. There was a wall built in Britain, named ‘The Nazi Wall’ but most of the natives just call it ‘The Wall’. In 1948, a German scientist discovered the beasts. They are huge masses of teeth and fur about the size of a large gorilla. They can move inexplicably fast and can tear a person apart in seconds. The beasts haven’t been given a name, they are just called beasts. Me and Jill were in a small rebel base in New Berlin, and we discovered the tunnel out of there when playing hide and seek. It was very small, and no adult could fit through, so we kept it to ourselves. Everyone there knew the Germans would find us eventually, but this was the night before we had scheduled a surprise attack! By the way, my name is Charles, I am twelve years old, and my sister Jill is ten.
The tunnel was extremely dark and dirty, with spiders and cobwebs covering whenever you moved. “Come on!” I called up to Jill, for she wasn’t moving. “The beasts are coming!” She gave a small squeak of alarm and started crawling very fast. After a few minutes or so, I heard the trapdoor open a short distance behind us and we heard a beast’s snarl. At this point, Jill was sobbing and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from shouting at her to get a move on. There were now a few beasts in the tunnel and although it’s very small, they don’t seem to mind. Jill started to speed up again and the chase began.
When we eventually get to the end, we were surrounded by tall warehouses on all sides. I nudge Jill and she climbs out and pulls me up as well. I gaze around, looking for something to use as a weapon and my eyes find a shovel. I pick it up and Jill asks, “What am I supposed to use?” I shrug. “You can use that,” I say, indicating the shotgun behind her. Her smile is the biggest one ever when she picks it up, despite the fact that man-eating beats are seconds away from jumping out of the tunnel and devouring us both.
Suddenly, the great rumbling of the beasts grows almost deafening and three of them emerge from the tunnel, snarling. But my little sister is faster than them, and with a ear-splitting BANG, the first beast falls over, dead. I whack the second one over the head with my shovel and he howls in pain and rage. But the third one screeches and knocks us both down with it’s mighty fists.
I land on a box and it’s knocked open. Inside, there are dozens of what look like red candles with the inscription TNT on all of them. Suddenly, I understand and start looking around frantically for some matches. I find a box behind the dynamite, and hurriedly light a match. I then pick up a stick and light the top. “Run!!” I roar at Jill as I throw it in the direction of the beasts.
We quickly hide behind a warehouse not a moment too soon. The dynamite explodes and blood and guts of the beasts fly everywhere. I start to cheer until Jill punches me in the side. She’s gaping at something and I follow her eyes. My jaw drops and I realise that we are right next to the lowest part of the whole wall. I knew the tunnel came out vaguely close to the wall but not this close! Now its Jill’s turn to cheer and I soon join in. Then, slowly, we walk towards it and start to climb.
Epilogue
When Charles grew up, he became a general of the Freedom Fighters working against the Nazis. He was instrumental in the eventual victory of the British people. The beasts were put to extinction and he himself gave the order to destroy the wall. His sister Jill became a doctor, healing people during the war and continuing to help long after it ended. They both became famous, as war heroes and as the only survivors of the ‘London massacre of 1953.’
Carla slapped Paul on the back.
“Come on! They’re coming!”
Paul blinked twice and then started to run again. From behind him he could hear shouts and gunshots from the furious Mafia. They ran down to the left and turned a corner to a brightly lit city street. There were families walking about and kids making snow angels on the ground. Paul doubted that any of these people were aware of the gangster hideout just around the corner. Carla kept running, past all the shops and people, until she came to an old, crumbling block of apartments. She looked back and saw Paul panting and trying to keep up. Rolling her eyes, Carla shoved the door open. It was eaten away by insects and the elements, so it was easy to knock down. Carla squeezed her hands together and jumped inside .
Paul was doing well enough, until he fell face first into the snow. “Ooomph!” he cried as his mouth was filled with dirty snow that a dog had recently peed on. He heard quick footsteps behind him and the shadow of a huge, muscular man appeared over him. he was wearing a black suit, and there was a bulge in breast pocket that didn’t look good. But that wasn’t all. He was holding the time staff.
The man rolled up his sleeves and spat something in Russian. It sounded similar to “I’m going to enjoy this.” Paul tried to sit up, but the man whacked him on the face with the staff. Paul’s nose started bleeding heavily and by the ccrack noise, he was sure it was broken. He couldn’t see anything for a few seconds, and when his eyes swam back into focus, the man was gone. The staff was lying on the ground by itself. Paul was wondering how this miracle had happened, when Carla jumped out of the shadows.
“How the heck did you do that?” grinned Paul happily. “Trade secret.” winked Carla. “But I’ll give you a clue. It had something to do with the handy door coming out right behind him. Did I mention I’m a black belt in Judo?” While Paul gaped at her, Carla started walking down along the path. Well, probably not. she thought Because I’m not a black belt in Judo!
Jade had fainted. She had taken one look at the picture and her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed. It had taken Patrick all his willpower not to throw up all over her. Their Mom could be dead or kidnapped! But he knew that they’d never find her in the woods so he decided the hotel was their only option. As he half-carried, half-dragged Jade through the undergrowth, bitter tears poured down his cheeks. He tried to imagine a world without his mother. They would be orphans then, as their father had been struck by lightning when they were two. He would only have Jade, and that’s why he would have to protect her as much as he could. For starters, getting them both out of this forest.
When he finally reached the hotel by dumb luck, it was almost two ‘o’ clock in the morning. Patrick was a nice, friendly guy with a happy-go-lucky attitude, but the situation was looking pretty desperate. They were two eleven-year old kids, one was unconsious and the other was almost dead with exhaustion and it was the middle of the night. It didn’t seem that things could get any worse, but they certainly did.
When they got there, the hotel was closed. Patrick groaned. It looked like they’d be sleeping inside the car tonight. As he pulled Jade over to the mercedes, something weird happened. The hotel door flung open and a loud booming voice called from inside “Come in! We have been expecting you!” Patrick didn’t want to spend the night in a car, but that voice sounded like bad news. After a minute, the idea of soft, warm beds won over, and he shook Jade awake.
“Hey, sis, wake up! The hotel’s open; we can have a great sleep.” It never occurred to Patrick that they might not let them have a room, with no money or parents, but he just assumed these people were friendly. How wrong he was. Jade woke up and looked around. “Where are we? What happened. . .” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the day’s events. “Mom? Did you find her?” Patrick shook his head morosely. “I’m sorry Jade.”
The grey mercedes pulled up to the old, creepy hotel. The front door opened and a plump, smiling woman stepped out. She called to her children inside the car. “Come on! It’s really not that bad, you just have to go inside.” The door opened slowly and an eleven year old boy stepped out, closely followed by his twin sister. They both looked extremely unhappy, and glared at the hotel as if it had commited some personal crime. “Why did we have to come here?” they whinged simultaneously, a habit they both had, the whinging and the talking-at-the-same-time. “Now, now.” their mother said patronisingly. “We’ll have great fun here. There’s a lake down the hill where you can go swimming, Patrick, and Jade, I hear they have a magnificent library inside!”
Patrick started heaving their heavy gear out of the boot. “Any chance of you helping at all?” he wheezed to Jade. “Not really.” she said, examining her fingernails. Their mother had an annnoying habit of wandering off and taking pictures when there was work to be done. But Patrick was practical and knew if he didn’t do it, nobody would. Suddenly, a song started playing and Jade fished her phone out of her pocket and answered it. “Hello? Oh, hi Emma! . . .Yeah, I know but at least there’s reception here. Remember that time when. . .”
Jade went off, chatting to her friend on her mobile, leaving Patrick by himself. He had nothing else to do, and he knew it would be half an hour before either of them came back, so he walked up to the hotel. The name on the front said’L'Hotel Fantome’. Patrick had no idea what it meant-he had never learned French- but it sounded cool. There was a looming, dark forest surrounding the hotel, which Jade had wandered into.The building itself was covered in ivy, and looked quite old. It wasn’t in very good condition, some of the windows were broken and most of the roof tiles were missing, but like it or not, this was his home for the next two weeks.
The lobby inside was dark, so he couldn’t see anything at all inside. He stretched out his hand dreamily to open the door. . .
Jade had been strolling through the woods, talking to Emma, when she suddenly heard a voice from behind her. “Jade! Are you okay? What happened?” She turned around and saw Patrick sprinting towards her. “Hellooo? I’m on the phone here!” she snapped at Patrick. “But. . . didn’t you just scream a moment ago?” Jade sighed and spoke into the phone. “Hey, Emma, can I call you back? Yeah, thanks. Bye!” She placed the phone back in her pocket and then looked at Patrick. “So what’s this nonsense about me screaming?”
“I heard a girl’s voice scream just there. I thought it was you and I came to help.” he said, his face as white as snow.
“Honestly,” said Jade, rolling her eyes. “When have you ever heard me scream? And if I was in trouble, the connection would burst up again, wouldn’t it?”
Patrick knew what she meant. Whenever one of them was in danger, a strange telepathic energy came between them and they could read each other’s thoughts for a few moments. It had first happened when Patrick was nearly hit by a car when they were six. He had briefly heard Jade singing a song in her mind. They had discussed it later on, but their parents hadn’t believed them of course. It had happened next when they were eight and Jade had met a bear while they were camping. She had been able to communicate with Patrick and tell him where she was. Afterwards, they figured out it only happened in dangerous situations. The last time the connection came was a few months ago, when their Mom couldn’t see through the snow and nearly crashed. They were sitting next to each other but it still connected them. Jade was right. If she had been in trouble, Patrick could’ve heard her thoughts.
“But if you didn’t scream, then who did?” asked Patrick.
“Maybe it was Mom.” suggested Jade.
“No, no. It was definetely a young girl’s voice.” Patrick’s eyes widened suddenly.
“What if Mom’s looking for us? She must have heard the scream too, it was pretty loud.”
“We better go look for her.” agreed Jade nervously. They started to walk deeper into the woods, calling their mother’s name. They had searched for twenty minutes before they began to get scared. “What do you think happened to her?” whispered Patrick anxiously. “I don’t know.” replied Jade, her voice just as soft. “Maybe she fell and broke her leg. Or maybe she got attacked by a wild animal. Or maybe -”
“Shut up!” hissed Patrick “She’s probably just looking for us as well. Don’t worry, It’ll be fine.”
But after another half an hour, things weren’t looking so good. They were now hopelessly lost and terrified.
“I told you we should have gone right back there.” muttered Patrick.
“No, I’m sure that would bring us back to where we started.” insisted Jade.
“Look, lets just head straight and eventually we’ll come out the other side!”
It seemed like a good plan, but was interuppted almost immediately. “Look!” cried Jade “I saw something over there!” She started running off to the left. “Hey, wait up!” Patrick called after her. Jade ran to the spot where she had seen the figure and started scanning the trees around her, looking for clues. A minute later, Patrick walked into the clearing. “Took your time.” said Jade without looking up. Patrick didn’t say anything, he just held something up for her to see. It was Mom’s camera. “Look at the pictures.” he croaked. Jade took it and started flicking through the photos. Scenery, wildlife, blah blah blah. Jade was about to turn it off until she saw the last picture.
It was a horrifying picture of a bloodstained axe.
Carla licked her lips. If she killed this guy, a few things could happen. 1. She could get rewarded by the Mafia for stopping this thief. 2. She could end up dead for letting him in in the first place. Or 3. She could hope nobody heard the shot and continue as if nothing had happened. She inclined to go with option two, when the man spoke. “Please don’t kill me! My mother is going to die! I need to save her.” Carla didn’t really care, but then she had an idea. “Yes? Well, where does your mother live?” “In Ireland,” said the man “She only has two weeks to live.” “So you have a Visa if you’re going to Ireland, yeah?” asked Carla. “Y-y-yes.” stuttered the man. Carla smiled widely. One of the reasons she hadn’t escaped from the Mafia was that she had no Visa to get to her home country of Spain. In fact, her real name was not Rogers, but Rodriguez but the previous one was easier to say for these slow-minded Russians. “Okay,” said Carla happily “Here’s the deal. I don’t pull the chain on you, and you take me to Spain.” It wasn’t much of a deal for Paul. If he said no, she would probably kill him. “Fine.” said Paul somewhat reluctantly. “I’ll bring you along. My name’s Paul Kane. What’s yours?” The woman looked insanely smug. “Carla.” she smiled. “Carla Rodriguez.”
They escaped from the HQ rather easily, it has to be said. It seemed that all the mobsters were shooting people, or playing poker or both at the same time. Paul didn’t know what they did, and if Carla did, she didn’t stop to tell him. She was rather pretty when she wasn’t holding a gun to his head, Paul reflected. He liked the way her long hair fell down over her shoulders and at one point he caught himself dribbling all over his chin. He had stopped at once, but the embarrassing memory remained. They had climbed the stairs out of the cellar, and had come to a long corridor with a few rooms on either side. he could hear laughter coming from behind the doors and Carla motioned for him to be quiet. They crept along the wall silently, and they had almost reached the end, when Paul sneezed loudly. There was instant silence from the rooms, and Paul could practically see them reaching for their guns.
“What do we do?” he mouthed at Carla. “Run!” she yelled back. So what do you think they did? They ran.
If you’ve ever been chased by gangsters through an unknown building in Russia two weeks before your mother is due to die, you know it’s not as hard as it sounds. Carla knew the way, and they were out of there in no time flat when they were running at top speed. They emerged in a dark alleyway, with the moon shining bright in the sky. How come it’s still night? wondered Paul It was night when I left, the house and I fell asleep for a while! This sensation is known to us time-travel experts as ‘time lag’, a very rare occurrence where the victim is confused on which time zone s/he is.
Here is a short story i worked on a while back. It’s not my best work, but please still enjoy!
Mr. Shadow by dinodude29
International espionage is dangerous work. There have been many great spies, but none quite as heroic and smart as The Shadow. Mr. Shadow. He has done many important things, never recognized, always worthy. This is one of his stories. Well, a shadow.
Mr. Donovan, or The Shadow woke up at 5:00 am as he did every morning, because it was important no one knew where or why he was going. He jumped out of bed and threw on his button-down shirt and sports jacket. He grabbed a banana and ran to his car, a porsche. He flew down the highway to the National Security Agency HQ in Washington, D.C. He ran in and suddenly his colleague Cole ran to him.
“Shadow, we need you. We’ve got a bad one. Mr. Gilman needs you now!”
Cole sputtered. Shadow nodded and ran to the office. Mr. Gilman saw him and turned on the T.V. A picture of the Pentagon appeared.
“We just got a security breach down here at the Pentagon. It may be the most secure building on earth, but they got in. 5 vital very confidential files are missing. This is dangerous. We know from some suspicious sources that the Scorpion Gang is responsible. There is a party tonight at Nicholas Resort you need to get into. A member of the Scorpion gang will be there. Shadow, the fate of the world is in your hands. Take it or leave it.” Mr. Gilman said. “Now for your gadgets. X was working till this morning on these, and apparently he is very excited.”
And it sure was exciting! The first gadget was a nylon thread grappling pen, capable of holding up to 300 pounds. The second was a watch that was a computer, bomb, tape recorder and bug scanner. Last but not least, a belt that had 3 modes: detonator mode, parachute mode, saw mode, and a mode that shot a sleeping needle.
“Awesome! I’ll be at the party when it starts tonight.” Shadow said, then left.
***
At 5:30 that night, Mr. Shadow was in his tuxedo at Nicholas Resort, hair combed smooth and his pen, watch, and brief case at the ready. The victorian hall was tall and wide, beautifully furnished and what seemed like hundreds of guests laughing and talking. He walked over to a sparkling punch bowl and poured himself a glass. He saw many people over at the tables playing cards. Suddenly he saw him. The Scorpion agent. Shadow walked to the table and joined the game. Whenever Shadow looked up, the Scorpion agent was looking at him.
At the end of the poker game everybody put the cards down. Shadow had won! It was an all card royal flush – hands-down win! Shadow smiled. He mingled a bit more and then went to the restroom. On his way there he saw the Scorpion agent talking on the phone. When he was finished, he pressed a button and through it out the window. There was a flash and smell of smoke. Then he walked out the door. Shadow followed. They finally got outside and the Scorpion agent got into a waiting car. Suddenly two men ran and jumped! It was a trap!
The first man ran and swung a fist. Shadow sidestepped and shot the sleeping dart from the belt. The man stumbled and fainted. Suddenly, the second man pulled a dart gun out. Shadow twirled in a graceful yet effective Karate kick, blowing the dart gun out of the hand. The man stumbled back onto the ground. When he got up, Shadow had already screeched down the road in his porsche in chase with the other Scorpion car.
As you may imagine, zooming down a dark Pennsylvania country road at 70 miles an hour may be difficult, but not for Mr. Shadow. He had some experience. The other Scorpion car’s driver had some too. But not quite enough. Shadow opened his door and swung around onto his hood. The other driver saw him and bumped into the car! They just had come beside a very large and deep ravine and now Shadow’s car was flying off the side! Shadow took the pen and shot it into the Scorpion car’s side as his car flipped and burst into a cloud of red and orange flame. Shadow felt himself being jerked and twirled through the air onto the Scorpion car’s hood.
Shadow regained balance and kicked open the windshield. He cartwheeled into the back seat and saw a silver briefcase. The files! He reached out for the briefcase but the Scorpion agent latched onto Shadow’s hand. They stared at each other for a second in a moment of suspense when suddenly Shadow, with his other hand, reached and pressed the bomb feature on his watch. The wrist strap automatically opened and Shadow grabbed the silver briefcase. The Scorpion agent, wide-eyed, watched as the watch flashed with a bang while he dropped it on to the floor.
The car burst into flame and sparks flew, spreading it. Shadow opened the door and was about to jump when the car screeched to a halt, jerking him. The car had stopped at an abandoned warehouse. Or so he thought. Suddenly, the Scorpion agent turned and flashed an evil smile. About 20 men where coming out from behind the warehouse, carrying dart guns. The men grabbed the briefcase and Shadow from the car. Shadow watched as the driver and the Scorpion gang member got out from the flaming car. He felt the itch of rope being tightly tied around his hands and legs. He suddenly bounded out of the way and rolled on the ground. He twisted the rope around and off, using it sort of like a whip. Suddenly he felt a pinch in his leg. A tranquilizer dart! He tore it off, but it seemed heavy…heavy… Mr. Shadow fell to the ground.
***
Shadow woke up the next morning feeling light-headed. He shook it off and looked at his surroundings. He was in a white lab, tied to a steel chair. Outside the morning countryside light seeped through the window, illuminating the lab. On a table net to him there was the silver briefcase. The top-secret files were in a pile. Shadow looked. It was blueprints for what looked like a rocket. Wait, the nuclear warhead rocket! It had been confiscated from testing years ago because of the unstable makeup and it’s ability to wipe out a country in seconds. And now the Scorpion gang had it. Suddenly, the door opened and the Scorpion gang’s leader walked in and smiled. He grabbed the file and scanned it over. He spoke sinisterly.
“Ah, The Shadow. You will be enraged to hear that our rocket has met all the specifications of the blueprints. It will be launched towards the White House in 8 minutes. It will hopefully wipe out the U.S. and possibly Quebec. I will escape in a helicopter to India. There is nothing you can do.” the Scorpion leader laughed maniacally and left.
Shadow smiled and got up. While the man was talking, he had taken out a pocketknife he keeps in his belt and started working away at the knot. He was free, but he reminded himself he needed to stay focused. He kicked open a door and found himself in a hangar. Hundreds of technicians, assistants, and guards where walking around doing their own thing. On a giant blue billboard was a timer of when the rocket would launch. 6 minutes. All the workers where running to the helicopters, glancing worriedly at the timer. Shadow scanned the room and saw a computer. He ran to it and saw that it was the on that programmed the rockets course. He tried changing it but it was encoded with a powerful hacker’s firewall. Even for The Shadow, that would be at least 15 minutes. Now the only way to stop it would be in the rocket itself. Shadow saw all the helicopters were starting to take off! He ran and jumped on the rocket’s side ladder and started climbing. The helicopters saw him and started zooming towards him. Shadow got to the top and clicked open his hush puppy drill saw shoe. He cut a circle in the top and dropped inside just as a helicopter’s blades sliced the air above him. He looked around at the mess of wires and servos. Any other person would not know what to do, even an engineer, but Mr. Shadow did.
As he was about to pluck some wires, he heard the helicopters rudders die away. They were retreating. But why? Suddenly, there was a loud beep all around Shadow and he was jerked to the floor with indescribable g-forces. It was all he could not to faint. Shadow groggily looked at the altimeter feature on his watch. 9,000 ft. Already? He tore up off the floor and started tearing wires. Wear was that plug? 15,000 ft. There it was! Shadow’s ears were shrieking but he had to concentrate. 19,000 ft. Shadow tore the wire and twisted a lever. Suddenly the rocket started twirling and shaking all around. Shadow banged out the hole he had sawed in the rocket and twisted and flipped in the air. Above him the rocket exploded, shooting red and orange cloud all over the place. Shadow could feel the heat searing down on him. A million pieces of large smoking debris zoomed past him. Shadow looked up at the giant red mushroom cloud 5,000 above him. Would it reach him? The helicopters? No, not him. He pressed the parachute feature on his belt and the large nylon tarp pillowed over him. He drifted safely down into the middle of a large countryside field. He pulled off the parachute and put on his earpiece.
“Hey Cole, mission accomplished. Go to the abandoned warehouse on Walnut road. The files are in a makeshift lab in a silver briefcase.” Shadow said.
“Congratulations! We’ll send some men over ASAP. Wait, what about the gang members? Did they get away?” Cole asked. Shadow looked on the horizon. The fleet of helicopters were being hit by the falling debris and flipping to the ground. Shadow grinned.
“Get the police and the ambulance down by the farm areas on Chestnut road. Look for a stack of helicopters in flames. Oh, and when I find the nearest road, could you send a bus?”
The Shadow started walking.
***
The next day Mr. Shadow was back at NSA headquarters being congratulated by Mr. Gilman.
“You did great, Shadow. The country owes you our gratitude. You don’t need to worry, the people in the helicopters are fine. The prison hospital is nicer than you’d expect. You have saved thousands of innocent people who will never know what you did. Thank you.” Mr. Gilman said.
“Just how I like it.” The Shadow said.
Mr. Shadow smiled, put on his coat, and disappeared.
THE END
Carla Rogers was in a heap of trouble. It had started when she realised she was selling firearms and ammunition to the Russian Mafia. She shuddered. That was bad enough. But when the Mafia got into a fix and lost all their weapons, they blamed Carla. They were sure she had ratted them out. So they kidnapped her to make sure she didn’t say anything else. Now she was stuck guarding this stupid cellar full of illegal weaponry. She was extremely pretty, with light brown hair and a tanned body, so she wasn’t the sort you’d expect to be involved in this line of business. But at least her orders were clear. Make sure nobody gets inside the cellar the big boss man had said, If they do, we could go down and I’d make sure you would go down with us. Well, things could be worse. There could be someone inside the cellar. Just then, she heard a noise from behind her. Someone was inside the cellar.
It could have been hours, it could have been five minutes. Paul had no idea how long he’d been asleep. He only knew the longer he stayed here, the more dangerous the situation became. He was in the Russian Mafia’s headquarters, or more accurately, their cellar. He had had dealings with the Mafia once, trying to obtain some illegal medicine to cure his uncle of cancer. Let’s just say it didn’t work out, and Paul’s uncle died the next day. He had hoped never to return, but his wishes were sadly denied. The cellar was full of crates and there was only one door, over in the corner. He stood up, his confusion from the the time-travel passed, and stumbled over to the door. He was still a little drowsy though, and banged his knee on a crate, knocking it to the floor. There was a loud crash, and then silence. Paul held his breath, waiting for the Mafia to come storming in with their sub-machine guns raised, like they did in the films. However, after a minute of silence, it seemed he had escaped detection. He started to walk again and then, just as he reached the door, it burst open. Paul didn’t have time to register what had happened, when as quick as lightning, he was knocked to the floor with a pistol pressed to his head.
Paul toppled forward but he never hit the floor. Instead, his mind seemed to disconnect from his body, and it seemed to zoom inside the little silver orb. Just then, Paul realised that maybe time-travel wasn’t such a great idea after all. He started shooting through his life, and it happened in a single second, as though time didn’t exist here. Then, as he reached the point he had chosen, he was flung forward into a vortex of time. It was completely silver, the same colour as the orb. It seemed to last forever, though in reality it was less than a nanosecond. Then, finally, his feet touched solid ground.
He was in a cellar. It was hard to tell much else through the silver mist still blocking his vision, but even he could see that much. It took a few minutes for his eyes to clear, but when they did, he looked at his surroundings carefully. Paul knew this place, he was sure of it, but it remained at the edge of his memory, just beyond reaching point. He looked at his watch. It had of course, stopped. Paul chuckled. This was just like a science fiction film. He got to his feet and started to walk. He managed three steps, before falling flat on his face with exhaustion. As he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, he remembered where he’d seen this cellar before. And it was not good. Not good at all.
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Hi guys! Thanks for reading this short episode of “Reverse”. If you did read it, well done, please leave a comment. If you skipped to the end, damn you. I’ve just read through my story and I realise it’s highly cliched. I didn’t realise this when I was writing, but I kind of ripped off Doctor Who. If you’ve ever seen it, you know what I mean. If you haven’t, go watch it now. Great show.
Any way, thanks for reading, keep following Reverse, there’s much more to come and always comment! XD
Paul gaped. It looked just like any other walking stick or staff, but he felt an aura of power radiating from it. It was a dark blue colour, with Black stripes up the sides. At the top, there was a silvery orb. Inside, was a strange glowing mist that Paul somehow knew could snap his mind in an instant. He stumbled forward and picked it up. As soon as his hands touched it, the silver started spinning rapidly. Inside it, the mist had cleared to reveal a scene that seemed somewhat familiar. It him a moment to realise that this was his sixteenth birthday. He gazed upon the picture fondly, remembering the happiness of that day. Then, the scene changed and he was looking at two young sleeping in a dorm in what looked like his old college. And then it became his trip to Spain. And then finally, it became his mother’s funeral. Paul’s heart clenched and he thought Back a bit please. The staff must have bonded with his brain because it zoomed back to two weeks before, when his mother was fine and dandy. Paul knew this was it, so tried the last step to use the staff. He cleared his mind of all thoughts, and then spoke out the word of power. “Reverse. . .”
The door swung open with ease, as if someone had oiled it recently. Not a nice thought. Paul looked around. There were lots of dusty vases, and even a stuffed panther’s head on the wall. He walked through the threshold, into a long corridor with lots of doors. Okay thought Paul The staff should be easy to spot. I mean, there aren’t that many time-controlling staffs around. But the search proved harder than he thought. Door after door he opened, and each one filled with nothing interesting, just dry, old books and relics. After two hours, he was confident he had searched the house from top to bottom, without a trace of the staff. He was about to leave in a very bad temper, when something caught his eye. There was a very small crack in the floor, half hidden by the carpet. He bent down and lifted it up, to inspect the crack. But he realised it was more than just a fissure in the wood. It was a trapdoor.
He had climbed into the narrow space and found himself in an almost completely bare room. At first he thought it was empty, so his heart ached with disappointment. But then he noticed something leaning against the wall behind him. It was a staff.
Hi guys!
I’m considering doing a series of short stories and I want to see what you guys think of my basic idea first. What I want to do is write a series of short stories describing everyday places, such as a pizza store, a cafeteria, and a coffee shop. I like doing descriptive writing and I would like to write about and look differently at everyday things and places. What do you think?
P.S.: Thanks! ![]()
Smile, Troubled Soul – Chapter 6.5 – Chaos
“She’ll be fine…the Stark twins never go down without a fight”
It was the last thing cast out onto the air before there was a deafening, terrifying sound of the door falling down.
The back room door was flung open and Guards stood there, glaring, their eyes cold and ruthless.
“35….you’re coming with us!” They made a grab at Zak, seizing his arms.
The monster that rested deep inside Zak decided It didn’t like that. It didn’t like these men.
There were at least five guards, and more waited outside, ready.
Roux darted into the living room, flung himself underneath the table, curled up, hands over his ears. He felt like a failure. He’d gone down without a fight; he’d surrendered his best friend over to these men who were going to take him to the institute to be destroyed. That guilt sat there in his stomach, gnawing at him.
Meanwhile, in the hall, the fight raged on. Clawed hands lashed out and tore skin, feet flung wildly at things, knocking them over, the contents of the table crashing onto the hardwood floor. Zak was getting tired by now, but he wasn’t going to stop. Not now. Not ever.
Two Guards fell to the floor dead. Three dragged Zak to the doorway.
More Guards rushed in from outside.
Zak felt pain explode in the back of his head. He dropped to his knees, and watched….as the
world…..slowed…..down.
He lifted his head groggily. Where was he?
He looked at his surroundings. White clean rooms, white corridors. Bright white lights.
Zak felt a sharp twinge in his left arm. He looked over.
A red number was tattooed into his skin.
“35,” Zak read quietly. He breathed out suddenly in anger and frustration. How DARE they label him with a number, as if he were not a human being?
“This school was meant for humans! Not creeps like you…”
The harsh words and echoing laughter mocked him, reminding him how pathetic he really was. Underneath the tough front he put up, he was still a little boy, lost and alone.
He wasn’t human. He wasn’t one of them. He was some freak, locked up here because society didn’t welcome him.
But eventually, it dawned on him. He couldn’t move, and cold metal dug into his hands. He looked left, looked right. He was chained to the wall. He tugged with all his might, as if the chains would somehow snap and he could escape. It was futile, and he hung his head low. He didn’t have the energy any more. He wanted it over with. He didn’t care.
“Glad to see you’re awake, 35…we’re going to play a little game”
So… ALoose Avian wanted a little 6.5 chapter about the fight at the apartment and what state Zak was in…I hope you like it. The beginning is a LITTLE rough (lol, a little XD Who am I kidding, it’s awful) but I’m in love with the ending of this. I left it on a cliff-hanger :3
The house was creepy. There was no denying it. But if Paul Kane was right – and he usually was – this could be the most important house in the history of the world. He was sweating when he pulled his car up to the driveway, even though it was a frosty December night. He climbed out of the car and took the key from under the mat, just where Liz had said it was. She had tried to disguise it, but Paul knew she had lived here as a child. It had taken him years to find all the clues, and a substantial amount of money. And now he knew. He was certain that the staff was real, there was no doubt about it. But would it work like Liz had said? Would it truly have the power to control time?? If it did, then he could put things right again, and bring back his mother. Nobody blamed him for her death, but he always knew it was his fault. But enough hesitations he thought and, turning the key in the lock, he pushed the door open….
One day, the King of United States wants to have more lands and people . So the King looks at the map and he smiles when finding out the gigantic country, China
He orders all of his soldiers to go to China and they go there by modern airplanes. In China, they grab a lot of people, but China’s Emperor doesn’t know. Day by day, the troop goes closer and closer the castle of China’s King. The China’s King is now extremely worry. He orders his soldier to fight, but it’s too late. All of the Chinese soldiers have been grabbed and they become slaves except one named Fety because he always hides himself under a feast table.
The China King orders him to make a special weapon. He agrees and begins to work. 3 hours later he comes back and gives the King the secret weapon. After using it, the King gets injured but all the US soldiers faint. Fety brings him to the hospital and the King is recovery. The United States have to withdraw because they’ve lost the battle. The US King gets disapointed but he can’t do anything further against China. He wants to invade another country and you will know in the next story.
Dear Reader.
Dear reader,
Today i’m telling going to tell you a bit more about what’s happened to me. This time it’s bullying. Yeh.. Not a very nice subject. But that’s life. It’s full of not very nice things. And sometimes it’s to horrible to hear about. But I’m writing this to let other people who get bullied know that they’re not alone in the world. That there are people out there who are going through the same things.
I was bullied for one thing at first. My nose. I got it from my dad, and he has a bump at the bridge of his nose. So do I. And that’s how it started. A boy in some of my classes at school would make nasty comments. Lets call him ‘Mike’. Just because I don’t know anyone called Mike. Then it started to spread to other people. Soon, even my friends would say things. It was horrible. And just when I thought it had stopped, something happened. I was with some of my friends when one of them said that I sounded like Mr Bean when I have a cold. So ‘Mike’ and some other people started calling me Mr Bean. Then it was Pinochio. And this has been going on for almost 2 years. But it makes you a better person. It’s not about how many punches you can take. It’s about how may punches you can take and still be able to get back up.
Yours faithfully,
Caitlin xx
My name is Ted
And I love bread
My grandmother is dead
Because she forgot to take her med
She died in bed
Her face was red
Her name was Fred
And since she is dead I filled her pockets with lead
And when she was almost dead to the doctor I sped!
Then the doctor said she was dead
Then I went to a ledge and thru her over board
She hit the water like a land lubber
She sank to the bottom and found a piece of rubber
So I jumped over-board
And I brought her to the circus
And now that she’s finely dead to the lion her body I fed
What was I Supposed to do leave her in her bead?
No because then she would eat my bread
My name is Ted
And I love bread
My name is Ted
And I am old
My name is Ted
And I am dead
There’s a beautiful tree under my eyes,
with a bird’s nest- oh, the bird flies.
With pink wings and a yellow beak,
it sits on a tap that starts to leak.
The tree has shining green leaves,
and gives shadow to a tailor that weaves.
The tree has enormous flowers,
yellow like sun befar.
It gives us food and wood,
and fragrance that sets our mood.
It gives us oxygen,
and cleverness like fox region.
It’s my request to the world don’t cut trees,
or the world will not survive and freeze!!
The voices in the distance grow ever louder. They’re gaining. Have to keep running. Have to keep running. I can’t stop, not now, not ever. It feels as if the buildings are surrounding me, crushing me, the people on the streets are watching me scaredly, worried. But maybe I should start at the beginning…
Okay, so it’s Friday the 13th. And i’m not usually a suspicous person. It’s just another day to me really. But then bad things started happening. I got a phone call from my bank, all my money had been lost. According to them, it just went poof and disappeared. Thats all I know about it. They said they are trying to trace it, but they doubt they will get very far. Then my wife calls. She’s filing for a divorce. I don’t even know why! But it’s when I’m in my most vulnerable place that they decide to strike.
The Collectors.
Okay, another thing to explain. The Collectors are not very nice people. At all. They’re collectors. Obviously. They work for The Sellers. Original names huh? They’re a part of this big drug organisation, and somehow along the line, I got roped into it. You see, it’s my half brother Lyle, who’s in this, who got me involoved. I’ve tried to stop, but it just isn’t possible in this buisness. There are secrets. Big things. And that’s what drove me over the edge. The pressure of it. I’m not good with pressure, no not at all. I get panicky, have them attack things and I can’t breath.
And that’s when they came. And I know. I know I’m going to die. But I’m not going down without a fight. So, back to the story…
They’re shouting, I’m running, Buildings squishing. Can’t breath. I’m slwoing down, but I can’t, not now, I’ve still got too much to fight for. So I keep going. I risk a glance back at The Collectors. They are now about 4 feet away from me. 3 feet. 2. 1…
Now I’m saying my silent goodbyes as I’m dragged from the street into a large abandoned warehouse. Typical. The abandoned warehouse, typical ‘gangster’ hideout. Now I must go.
Goodbye.
i did this for english homework, we had to do a short atmospheric peice of writing and to be honest i completely forgot about it so i did it really quickly before i went to school. hope you all like it, and please comment what you think xx
Tamika was not like the other tree frogs she was the smallest and the slowest.
All the other frogs longed to marry ‘prince frog a lot’ but she didn’t.
She longed for a kind frog not a rich frog.
She watched as each frog dreamed about frog a lot.
One day as she was hopping by the pond, prince frogalot came up to her and asked “do you know who the frog princess is?”
Tamika did not know who she was so they went off to find her.
They came across a huge tree. It was not the home of the princess.
They came across the frog king who said “son whoever you want to be princess is princess.”
Frog a lot chose Tamika. Now Princess Tamika is still small but stands tall with pride
“The kid went down there! Follow him!”
“Find that brat!”
Gotta hide. Where?
They’re after me!
Zak turned down the alleyway and crouched behind a bin and tried not to make a sound as he heard the Guards run past. Their footsteps faded away and when he decided it was safe to come out, Zak crept into the streets.
He’d only wanted to eat, only wanted to take a small piece of fruit without being caught. Oh, he was caught alright. He’d run from East Town, through North Town then back to South Town.
The 10 year old boy walked sadly into a park and sat down on a swing, gently swaying to and fro. He watched the children who played happily with the other children, with their sisters, brothers, their parents.
Zak felt that jealous pang of sadness. He didn’t know his parents, didn’t know if he had any. Never had brothers or sisters. He was alone.
“Hey, kid! Get off the swing!”
Zak looked up to three boys glaring down at him. He ignored them and averted his gazed to his lap.
“Are you thick or something? We want to go on the swing! You need to get off!”
“I was here first…” Zak said quietly.
“Tough! OFF!!!” The oldest, tallest boy shoved Zak’s shoulder and Zak tumbled backwards, off the swing into the dirt, his legs still hooked on the seat.
“Hey! Leave him alone! Mom, Ezra’s being nasty again!” a new voice joined in. It was a girl’s voice.
“Oh leave off Detroit…you’re so stupid, you know?!” the tallest boy, Ezra, jeered at the girl. His little sister.
Zak scrambled upwards to look at the girl who’d come to his rescue. She was about his age, about his height. Soft shoulder length wavy hair and green eyes. She wore a white shirt and bleached overalls and knee high lace-up boots.
“Don’t call me stupid Ezra! You’re nothing but a big mean bully! Besides, Mom wants to see you…,”
Detroit stood with hands on her hips defiantly, a little smirk of triumph on her little cheeky face.
She turned to look at Zak and grinned, holding out a hand.
“Ignore Ezra. He’s my dumb big brother. I have a twin, called Roux! Are you okay? Ezra didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No…” Zak mumbled, dusting himself off, then he turned and began to walk away.
“Hey wait! I’m Detroit! What’s your name?!” she called after him.
“It’s Zak…and what do you care?” he said, without looking back at her.
“Meet me here again tomorrow! These exact swings, 2pm!”
Zak swung round to find the girl smiling at him, her eyes shining. Was she serious? She wanted to be his friend?
“You mean….we’re friends now?”
“Of course, silly! I mean, if you want to be!” she said cheerily, running up to him and taking his hand. Zak gasped, looked down, then back up at Detroit. He then smiled slightly too.
“I-I’d like that…”
“Great! Oops, looks like I gotta go now. But same time tomorrow, same place. I’ll be here, wait for me!” Detroit called over her shoulder as she ran after her brothers and her Mom.
That night, as Zak curled up underneath a pile of sacks in an alleyway…he didn’t feel alone. He had a friend. A real friend.
——
YEEEAHHHH!!! I’m actually enjoying writing this….alright, just to clear a few things up…
Zak, Detroit and Roux are 10 years old
Ezra is 12…and picks on little kids. LOL. He really is a big mean bully :3
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