Published Aug 20th, 2014, 8/20/14 4:38 pm
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Blogging Update :0
So, for as long as I continue to make blogs, I will be continuing a series, while between the series, I will post a blog or two to make up for the absence of the said series. Based off your responses to my first blog (Factions: Your First Day), I will in fact continue this series for the enjoyment of people who want to read my content. Now, here is my next blog, called Mondegreen. This is my first fiction short-story, but after word from a mod, had content changed as the original was too gruesome and dark for this website. If you would like to see the original, please contact me via PM. Do not under any circumstances post the original that I send you if you ask for it. Other than that, happy reading, and have a nice day :)
Story
I sit inside my room, my only safe haven from the rest of the world. "School is such a bore," I thought, as I listened to the music on my phone.Music was my only friend, in the world I lived in. With the constant judging of what you wear, how you act, what you like, who you hang out with (I tended to sit by myself, so this wasn't a problem), the things you do, there was no way I could even bother to make myself capable of conforming to the student masses. My parents weren't of any help either. My dad was a family man. Working day and night, he started to get very tired, very cranky. He wasn't too much help with "school," or "social situations," so that's probably why I was still so lonely in school. My mother was a very loving, and kind person. Even though she was wheelchair-bound, she was always caring about my father and me, no matter what. My parents loved each other, and they loved me. But I didn't care about love, in the unforgiving world I lived in. Love is just an unnecessary feeling, why would anyone care about love anyway? It was around midnight, when I listened to my music, which was Chopin's Revolutionary Etude. As I was listening to the piece, I heard a small, unfamiliar “tapping” sound.
"tap.....tap.....tap….."
The sound was very quiet, but it was more like unnecessary background ambience, so I ignored it. It went on like this, the sound repeating itself every 5 seconds.
"tap....tap....tap…."
The noise continued to bounce around my room at the same volume, but it was now every 4 seconds. I paused my music now, and tried to listen to this unusual noise.
"tap...tap...tap…"
The tapping grew faster, each second between each tap felt like water dripping into a drain.
"Tap..Tap..Tap.." Now the noise grew louder, resounding off my walls. To anyone on the outside, it would sound as if someone was nonchalantly hitting the walls. The noise was incessant, and I started to become afraid.
"BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!"
Now the walls were groaning, the tapping now sounding like rapid gun fire. I was in full panic mode, yowling my head off, wishing the noises would stop. I scurried to the door, and pushed the door straight open. I practically tripped down the stairs, as I was running so fast, and fell into the kitchen. I pulled out a cleaver that we kept in the drawer. It probably wouldn't help against the other-worldly presence, but it restored my broken disposition. As I tried to get out of the house, running to the front door, 2 figures appeared in my path. One was tall and gangly, with 1000s of small, toxic-looking tendrils draping over its body. The other was short, and was sitting in a device of some sort, whatever device it was, I couldn't tell. The figures were both pitch black, and their eyes were blood-red.
“Demons from the nether!" I though. "They've come to take me with them!”
"Youuuuu wiiiiiill beeeeeeee okkkkkkkk boyyyyyyyy, calmmmmmmm downnnnnn andddddd dropppppp theeeeeee knifeeeeee," they murmured, their voices cracking with some deep down pain.
“NO. YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME DEMONS!” I bellowed. “YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME!”
I would not oblige to their command, they were nether-spawn, why would any sane person consider what they were saying? They tried to grab me with their claws, but I backed away from their beckoning grasp. I momentarily forgot about the cleaver in my hand, and with the bravado of a person fighting for their life, I took a swing at them. As I prepared to hit them with the knife, I found that the cleaver was dull.
"Great, more work." I groaned. I ran up the stairs in my house, and the tall demon followed. As I reached the top of the stairs, I turned around, and slammed my cleaver into its stomach, splattering a dark liquid across the walls and myself. The demon tumbled down the stairs, and crashed into the other demon, sending them both into a tangled disarray of arms and legs. When I looked to see what I had done, I cried in grief. They were my parents, my mother and my father, a bundled mess of broken arms, necks, and legs.
"Oh my god... OH MY GOD!" I cried in grief, scampering down to my parents. They were already dead, but I felt so lonely... truly lonely. I made my way next to my parents, when I heard the real demon.
"Don't trust what your senses tell you, only YOU are responsible for your suffering..." it said, cackling in my ear.
1 Week Later
"Patient 0424 has been responding well to the prescriptions." the first doctor mentioned.
"What happened to him? I heard it was a special case" the second doctor inquired, truly wondering why this young 12 year old boy was at the psychiatric ward.
"Well, it's a very grotesque case, you see. When the police sent him to us, they told us what had happened to him. A neighbor describes seeing the boy through his window, listening to music, staring at nothing. A few minutes later, he started pounding the wall. These pounds turned into slams, as he continued punching the wall. He then saw the boy run down the stairs. This neighbor then heard blood-curdling screams, which our coroners explained, was a gruesome sight." the first doctor said, shuddering at the thought.
"What did they see?" the second doctor asked.
"They saw 3 bodies, two horribly mutilated, their legs and arms mangled, all broken, of course. The third was lying down on the ground, holding a cleaver in his hand. Upon closer examination, it was deduced that this boy, who we now know is mentally insane, pushed his parents down the stairs, killing them instantly. We can tell this, due to the fact that blood from his father was found on the knife, along with the boy. They then said that he then fell to the floor, and snuggled with them, as if he was sleeping between them!" the first doctor announced.
"Sleeping between them? What a psycho!" the second doctor laughed.
I, on the other hand, was not laughing. I wasn’t even trying to stifle a chortle. When I get out of here, in maybe a month, a year, 10 years, I don't care, I will save the world from that demon that tricked me into killing my parents. I may be branded a murderer, but I will solve the conundrum. I will get that demon, and make him pay.
The following short story was written for MGB_'s horror story and skinning contest.
So, for as long as I continue to make blogs, I will be continuing a series, while between the series, I will post a blog or two to make up for the absence of the said series. Based off your responses to my first blog (Factions: Your First Day), I will in fact continue this series for the enjoyment of people who want to read my content. Now, here is my next blog, called Mondegreen. This is my first fiction short-story, but after word from a mod, had content changed as the original was too gruesome and dark for this website. If you would like to see the original, please contact me via PM. Do not under any circumstances post the original that I send you if you ask for it. Other than that, happy reading, and have a nice day :)
Story
I sit inside my room, my only safe haven from the rest of the world. "School is such a bore," I thought, as I listened to the music on my phone.Music was my only friend, in the world I lived in. With the constant judging of what you wear, how you act, what you like, who you hang out with (I tended to sit by myself, so this wasn't a problem), the things you do, there was no way I could even bother to make myself capable of conforming to the student masses. My parents weren't of any help either. My dad was a family man. Working day and night, he started to get very tired, very cranky. He wasn't too much help with "school," or "social situations," so that's probably why I was still so lonely in school. My mother was a very loving, and kind person. Even though she was wheelchair-bound, she was always caring about my father and me, no matter what. My parents loved each other, and they loved me. But I didn't care about love, in the unforgiving world I lived in. Love is just an unnecessary feeling, why would anyone care about love anyway? It was around midnight, when I listened to my music, which was Chopin's Revolutionary Etude. As I was listening to the piece, I heard a small, unfamiliar “tapping” sound.
"tap.....tap.....tap….."
The sound was very quiet, but it was more like unnecessary background ambience, so I ignored it. It went on like this, the sound repeating itself every 5 seconds.
"tap....tap....tap…."
The noise continued to bounce around my room at the same volume, but it was now every 4 seconds. I paused my music now, and tried to listen to this unusual noise.
"tap...tap...tap…"
The tapping grew faster, each second between each tap felt like water dripping into a drain.
"Tap..Tap..Tap.." Now the noise grew louder, resounding off my walls. To anyone on the outside, it would sound as if someone was nonchalantly hitting the walls. The noise was incessant, and I started to become afraid.
"BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!"
Now the walls were groaning, the tapping now sounding like rapid gun fire. I was in full panic mode, yowling my head off, wishing the noises would stop. I scurried to the door, and pushed the door straight open. I practically tripped down the stairs, as I was running so fast, and fell into the kitchen. I pulled out a cleaver that we kept in the drawer. It probably wouldn't help against the other-worldly presence, but it restored my broken disposition. As I tried to get out of the house, running to the front door, 2 figures appeared in my path. One was tall and gangly, with 1000s of small, toxic-looking tendrils draping over its body. The other was short, and was sitting in a device of some sort, whatever device it was, I couldn't tell. The figures were both pitch black, and their eyes were blood-red.
“Demons from the nether!" I though. "They've come to take me with them!”
"Youuuuu wiiiiiill beeeeeeee okkkkkkkk boyyyyyyyy, calmmmmmmm downnnnnn andddddd dropppppp theeeeeee knifeeeeee," they murmured, their voices cracking with some deep down pain.
“NO. YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME DEMONS!” I bellowed. “YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME!”
I would not oblige to their command, they were nether-spawn, why would any sane person consider what they were saying? They tried to grab me with their claws, but I backed away from their beckoning grasp. I momentarily forgot about the cleaver in my hand, and with the bravado of a person fighting for their life, I took a swing at them. As I prepared to hit them with the knife, I found that the cleaver was dull.
"Great, more work." I groaned. I ran up the stairs in my house, and the tall demon followed. As I reached the top of the stairs, I turned around, and slammed my cleaver into its stomach, splattering a dark liquid across the walls and myself. The demon tumbled down the stairs, and crashed into the other demon, sending them both into a tangled disarray of arms and legs. When I looked to see what I had done, I cried in grief. They were my parents, my mother and my father, a bundled mess of broken arms, necks, and legs.
"Oh my god... OH MY GOD!" I cried in grief, scampering down to my parents. They were already dead, but I felt so lonely... truly lonely. I made my way next to my parents, when I heard the real demon.
"Don't trust what your senses tell you, only YOU are responsible for your suffering..." it said, cackling in my ear.
1 Week Later
"Patient 0424 has been responding well to the prescriptions." the first doctor mentioned.
"What happened to him? I heard it was a special case" the second doctor inquired, truly wondering why this young 12 year old boy was at the psychiatric ward.
"Well, it's a very grotesque case, you see. When the police sent him to us, they told us what had happened to him. A neighbor describes seeing the boy through his window, listening to music, staring at nothing. A few minutes later, he started pounding the wall. These pounds turned into slams, as he continued punching the wall. He then saw the boy run down the stairs. This neighbor then heard blood-curdling screams, which our coroners explained, was a gruesome sight." the first doctor said, shuddering at the thought.
"What did they see?" the second doctor asked.
"They saw 3 bodies, two horribly mutilated, their legs and arms mangled, all broken, of course. The third was lying down on the ground, holding a cleaver in his hand. Upon closer examination, it was deduced that this boy, who we now know is mentally insane, pushed his parents down the stairs, killing them instantly. We can tell this, due to the fact that blood from his father was found on the knife, along with the boy. They then said that he then fell to the floor, and snuggled with them, as if he was sleeping between them!" the first doctor announced.
"Sleeping between them? What a psycho!" the second doctor laughed.
I, on the other hand, was not laughing. I wasn’t even trying to stifle a chortle. When I get out of here, in maybe a month, a year, 10 years, I don't care, I will save the world from that demon that tricked me into killing my parents. I may be branded a murderer, but I will solve the conundrum. I will get that demon, and make him pay.
The following short story was written for MGB_'s horror story and skinning contest.
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1 Update Logs
Update #1 : by PukedOutKiwi 08/20/2014 4:39:51 pmAugust 20, 2014 @ 8:39 pm UTC
After doing a quick skim, found some kinks that had to be fixed. If I find any more in the future, I will edit those out as well.
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Have something to say?
You make a very common mistake though, allow me to explain.
“Demons from the nether!" I though. "They've come to take me with them!”
Alright, how did you possible deduct that they're demons from the nether? You'll keep calling them demons from the nether throughout the story.
The thing wrong with the story is that everything happens shortly. In just a few lines, you came from running from the 'demons' to your parents being dead.
Next, you are ending the story fine. No conclusion, meaning that the story can go on however the reader imagines it. However, in a real situation, I don't think police would automatically assumed you, a 12 year old boy in the story would be capable of murder, especially committing it on your own parents.
Again, generally an interesting little story, with a few faults. Keep up the good work =)