My Stories

Hi! Here I will post my non Animal Jam Stories!
This one is a supposely spooky short story I wrote on Halloween 2012 for school.
WARNING: SLIGHTLY GORE CONTENT TOWARDS THE END
I woke up with a start. I had just had a very flustering nightmare. It was about some demons that had possessed our town. I didn´t see the demons, but I felt their power radiating from everywhere. I shook those feelings out of my mind and walked to school. But I still felt evilness and darkness as if it came out of the ground. Suddenly I heard a voice behind me. “You’ve got the energy.’’ It said. Turned my head but there was nothing.
On the way back home, I saw a strange hooded figure dressed in black. It didn´t seem to walk, it seemed to plunge the earth with every footstep, stepping on the world as if it was junk. I followed it. We ended up in a misty park with a hollow tree. The figure stood next to it and suddenly disappeared. I approached the tree. Standing in the fog made me sleepy. I peeked inside the tree. There was an inscription that said: “Oh great devils, Evil Ones. Princes of Darkness, come to me.’’ I stopped to think. Perhaps if I said those words aloud I could go inside the tree? So not knowing that I was making a huge mistake, I pronounced them.
It sounded like some sort of curse. I lost my balance and fell inside the tree. I still felt the darkness and evilness, but this time it seemed to be inside me. The inside of the tree was a dismal place with black marble walls, floor and ceiling. There was a door at the end of the corridor. Voices came from there. I wished I could become invisible, and my wish became true. “Why is this happening to me?’’ I desperately wished I could get an answer, and I did.
A creature appeared next to me. It floated beside my head. “God or demon, who are you?’’ I asked. ``I am one of the six minor demons, and I work for my master’’, it answered, with quite a menacing voice.  “Your wishes are turning true because you casted our curse.’’ It continued. “Now you’ve sold your soul to us, so all your wishes will become true. But you are ought to pay a price for it. Every wish of yours that we make true means there’s something that you have to do for us.’’ I realised that the voices belonged to people who had sold their soul. “I don´t agree and I don´t want to work for you’’, I said indignantly. “Too bad’,’ giggled the devil. “You said the curse, so now you are trapped for all eternity in our world of hell.  So you have to agree.’’ And as it fell in manic laughter, I dashed away.
 I was trembling all over. I tried to keep calm. There had to be a way out. I then noticed a window on the door, so I peeped through it. There were lots of black figures. “Have you got him?’’ whispered one of them. “I think so’’, answered another one, as it took a human body out of its cape. It appeared to be deeply asleep. The first figure took a silver dagger from its pocket and sunk it in the victim´s neck. There was a violent scream. Scarlet blood flowed all over the floor and the corpse laid on the floor, motionless, dead. The figure opened a gloved hand and a glass bottle materialised. The blood shot up inside it. “We have the last ingredient’’, said the figure. “We will finish the potion, and our master will come out of the underworld. And the world will be doomed.’’ “NO!” I yelled. I felt a very pure energy pouring out of me. The black figures dissolved. The whole place was destroyed.
No more darkness, no more evilness, no more demons. When you find that energy inside yourself, you can do anything.



This is a detective short story I had to write for school too:

There I was, at my apartment. I was bored, surfing the net and wondering when I would find another case. My so far short but effective career as a private detective consisted on occasional cases, often followed and preceded by periods of boredom and laziness in my apartment, just like right now.
But I felt my heart leap as, while looking at Yahoo News, I found a post titled “President George Black, killed inside his suite at the White House this morning”
I didn´t even read the article; I just jumped to the door, overflowing with excitement, and ran and ran until I reached the White House.
The guard let me in. I got inside the elevator, catching my breath.
There was a click when I reached the right floor, and I entered the crime scene.
The whole group of doctors, policemen, investigators and lawyers were already waiting for me. On the floor laid the president, covered by a black sheet. But there was another corpse, also covered, next to him. 
“Who is it?” I questioned.  A policeman replied: “Joe.”
My heart sank. Joe Harris was one of the president´s bodyguards. Everyone was really mournful about his death, the end of his jokes and jolliness, and his ability to make everyone laugh under any circumstances.
“So there are two victims?” I asked. “Four” corrected the doctor. “The president´s wife and his other bodyguard were also injured.
I took the elevator yet again and reached the ambulance. Inside was the president´s wife, Agatha Black, in a comma, connected to loads of machines. The doctors said she probably would soon recover, but everyone seemed to think she was going to die.  And Bob Black, the bodyguard. Black. I suddenly noticed. “Is Bob Black actually George Black´s relative?” I queried.  “Actually, George and me are brothers. And my Agatha is in a comma.” Answered Bob, sobbing. He seemed grieved and hysterical, and had his arm on a sling.
It seemed weird for him to refer to Agatha Black as “his Agatha”, but I attributed it to how nervous and traumatized he was. Right now, it was far more important to interrogate him about the murder, seeing as he was there when it occurred.
“What were you doing when it happened?”
“I was watching how George and Agatha played chess.“
“Did you see who killed your brother, and how?
“I don´t know, I was so nervous. I just saw someone jump to George with a knife and I screamed and closed my eyes.  Joe said something but then he just went silent and fell. Later I saw someone had cut his throat. And then Agatha fell and I felt someone stab my shoulder.”
All the time he spoke with a rough, unstable voice, weeping and breathing heavily. I was frustrated at how he hadn´t seen the murderer, but the doctors attributed it to the trauma and tension.
I was muddled up and had no idea how to solve the crime, but I finally managed to make a question that made sense.
“Who was in the house apart from the victims?”
Bob responded: “Just their son, George Black Junior. He is 19.”
I asked to see him. He was in a posh living room, and seemed even more traumatized than the bodyguard.  There was a group of lawyers with him, telling him how now half the money and the house belonged to him and half to his mother, who apparently would soon wake up, but he refused to listen.
“This is stupid.” He complained. “It’s just the story of Hamlet repeated. I don´t want Uncle Bob to be my stepfather.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, with a hunch.
“Uncle Bob and my mother have been dating for months”, he said.
It suddenly all made sense. As a doctor yelled that Agatha had woken up and Bob rushed to see her, I figured out that Bob had killed his brother, knowing that Agatha would share the money with him.
Now there was a whole lot of paperwork and trials to do, but I felt thrilled as Bob Black was arrested to be taken to prison, Agatha Black told the cops how Bob had killed the president, then murdered Joe so he wouldn´t tell anyone what he had saw, and how she had knocked the back of her head when she had jumped to take the knife off him.
Apparently Bob Black thought Agatha would die, and as she had left all her possessions to Bob in her will, which had been edited only a few days before, and when she woke up from the comma she had forgotten the day before the murder.
But to everyone’s surprise, when I explained to her what I suspected, she had suddenly got her memory back and was able to confirm my version.
With the usual adrenalin and overwhelming happiness that filled me after solving a crime, I returned to my apartment, unconsciously knowing I was in for another boring period of time in front of the computer.

How wrong I was…

More coming soon!

10 comments:

  1. You'd probably make millions if you sold that..

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  2. Cool :3

    (Oh, and can you get rid of word verification?)

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  3. I really liked that, a nice inspirational story! :) Ish.. :P

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  4. Awesome stories! I wrote a story of what happened in one of my dreams.
    The Story:
    A long time ago, not on earth, an army of robots was created, for good deeds, but somehow they turned evil and took over the land. Now, these robots weren't just any old robots, oh no, they where programmed to be like humans. They even looked like humans. From what I can remember, In this dream I was a young kid, who had two friends, Sophie, who was younger than me, and Aidan, who was older than me. We where all kids so we couldn't plan an escape, yet. You see, the robots captured the adults and used them as slaves under mind-controll. But strangely enough, the kids weren't mind controlled slaves too, but they where still held hostage by the robots. When this dream started, I was playing with Aidan, near to the exit door, witch had been left open by a silly robot. So, Aidan and I where thinking of leaving, but we knew if we went out the door we would be surrounded by robots instantly. After that, we where almost adults in the dream. Sophie was 15, Aidan was 17, and I was 16. So we planned our escape from the robots. Aidan and I escaped, Sophie stayed behind to make sure no robots captured us. So Aidan and I crossed the land and got well away from the robots. We ended up in the edges of a desert, where we met a tribe who lived there. The tribe leader told us about one robot who wasn't evil and wanted to take back the land from the other robots, and that Emerald City wasn't taken over yet, and the rulers of the city where planing an attack on the robots. So some tribe members, Aidan and I went to Emerald City to join the battle. When we got there I was talking to Aidan... then I woke up. >.< By the way Aidan and Sophie I have never actually met before in real life, they just appeared in my dream, like loads of other random people do XD ~wolfprincess675

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    1. I was just writing about that "robot army" and when I clicked to publish the comment a thing popped up and said "Please prove you're not a robot. Type the text below." or something. XD

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