Things we think up...

Spook Day

2009-11-04T04:21:00.011-05:00

(Autours note: I just realized that I forgot to upload a story for Halloween! I had written this a few months ago and waited until late October to let you all read it. But it slipped my thoughts as the holiday neared. I apologize, and hope it still is neat despite being 4 days late.
This is a kind of play on the classic movie character Micheal Myers, from "Halloween".)
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- October 29 - 9:01pm
The door of the diner opened, the bell above it causing a few scattered glances. A man wearing a toboggan and a dark coat, collar flipped up, walked in and sat at the nearest table. He took a deep breath and removed his thick gloves, spilling a fine dusting of snow on the surface.

Two more days until people will die. So soon. I have to stop it from happening. Stop the killings.

“What would you like?” The waitress asked him.

“Just coffee. And sugar please.” His headache was beginning to fade away as he smelled the brew. Such a cold night for October.

Well, what do you expect? You’re in Alaska.

For the last three years at least five people have died on Halloween- or “Spook day”, as he liked to call it. One year ago, 1977, he had came so close to preventing a murder, but, as usual, he become too emotional. Too hyped-up. He panicked and lost his concentration; nearly lost his mind.

I fouled up. Get over it and do better next time. Always a next time.

The coffee had helped his head. Snow was packed up about in inch on the street. Only flurries fell now.
He walked back to his house alone. No one on the roads but him.

- October 31 - 3:45pm
A few kids ran by his porch as he sat watching them cheerfully. Some of them were already in costume, already trick-or-treating. He had to dismiss a family or two because he had no candy to give. He planned to go to the store later and buy some. He did at 5:00pm.

Tootsie rolls, Swiss cake rolls, and Cinnamon rolls all dropped in his basket.

Too many rolls, man. Get Snickers now.

The checkout lady was slow. He was starting to get aggravated.

Calm down. Focus. How do you expect to stop the murders if you let an old lady anger you?

Images of dead bodies flashed in his head. Gutted and shot. Blood rolling down walls like fresh paint. Even children were killed.

Bastard! Why?

Bags of candy in hand, he moved to the back of his car and inserted the key in the hole, and turned. The trunk popped up and the candy went in.
The murders usually happened around 9 o’clock.

Well not tonight’s 9 o‘clock. Nope.

The drive was short back home. Looking at the mountains made him feel small and unsure. But there was hope.

The sweets fell into a big blue bowl with small thumps and crackles. He looked at the cinnamon buns and felt tempted to eat one.

He stepped out on his porch at 8:20 and watched his breath hit the chill air. His hand went into his jacket pocket and came out with a pack of cigarettes. He extracted one, stuck it between his lips, and flicked open his lighter.
Shhick. Shhick! The flame lit the tip.
The lawn chair creaked a bit as he rested his rear in it. The sky was gray and dull and the air smelled like snow. His ears and fingers were getting numb.

Whether I stop the slaying of innocents or not, I’m out of here tomorrow.

A jack-o‘-lantern was glaring at him from across the street. It’s triangle eyes were glowing with a ghostly life. He wrinkled his face at it mockingly, then looked at his watch. 8:40.

- 9:00
A group of children jogged up to his porch.

“Trick-or-treat!” They all said in unison. He smiled and held up a finger.

“I’ll be right there,” he answered then turned into his house. Inside, he lurched passed the bowl of candy and grabbed a white mask then made his way into the living room, frowning. A tight grip fastened around the handle of a suppressed pistol.

Oh that feels so good, and so bad. No killing prevention tonight. Dammit Mike!

- Joey

A deleted scene from "The Concluding"

2009-07-04T08:47:00.009-04:00

(This scene happened sometime after the grey wolf had been dissected by Herald and Voon in Charles and Moona's house. This is an entry in Herald's diary. To the best of our memory, this scene was removed for reasons of timing and we think it had disrupted the progression of the plot. Either way, here it is.)

I quickly spun round to see none other than the Count standing tall before me. My God his eyes were burning with hell-fire and his brows were a hot bar of iron!

He was holding aloft Charles and Moona, whilst Sooward was, to my thoughts, dead, thrown upon the couch. The fast thinking Charley ripped his collar open wide, and out protruded his small inked-on cross! To my eyes, it was glowing! The Count screamed in raging horror, dropped the couple, and jumped through an open window into the night like a corrupt panther!

What happened next was remarkable, terrifyingly remarkable.

Through the same window 3 humongous wolves leaped in. 5 feet tall to the memory! Their bright teeth shown like sickles of ice. A white wolf headed for Charles and he collapsed harshly in a heap, fainted. I looked for Voon, yet he was nowhere. I looked at Moona, she too was out cold. I tried to run for the front door, but a large body blocked my way... It was Voon, holding 2 flintlocks in his mighty hands! He aimed at 2 wolves that were sniffing Moona and her Husband, and fired. They exploded like fruits. Voon then retrieved a third pistol and aimed it at the White wolf who was jumping back out the window, and fried. The shot missed into the blackness and I think I heard a faint yell from a distance. I fell to the floor in a state of panic I think, breathing harshly. The giant man above me was readying himself for another possible attack by reloading the pistols.

I still remember the smell of smoke as it pored from the barrels.

No attack came again.

- Joey and Stefan

The Concluding

2008-12-20T06:08:00.040-05:00

{Authors Note: This is a sequel to the “Revisit” and “The Letter” stories, and the third and possibly last installment in the Dracoola series. We wanted the series to go out with a big story, so that’s what we wrote. We both wrote it, and put our characters together in it. Again, it‘s a series of journal entries, letters, and other things. Think of it as a Christmas present to you, our readers. It‘s not as abstractly comedic as the others. It’s more story based, but defiantly a comedy story.}

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Diary of Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein

~April 29~ night

I find it hard to tell you of my latest experiences for I was quite drowsy and was strangely struck on the head by Mr. Whistle. It left a knot the size of a golf ball of sorts. Yet, I remember strange sights and sounds; howlings, ramblings, runnings, screamings, and poundings. It was most remarkable how I landed in the carriage of Charles, I would surely be gone if it were not for that fine gent!

What outstanding memories he must have of the chase to this hospital. I must read his dairy someday to, maybe, refresh my flickering memory.

Ah! I almost forgot. I have been in this bed for the last 2 days, and last night I had an odd happening that happened to happen to me. I was in a dream state of sorts, and the window was open and a chill wind rose from outside and floated in on me. I must admit it was quite nice feeling. That is until I saw a most unconventional fog wander it's way in. It was slow-moving and thickly. I laid, aghast at this side, and set up hastily. The fog, appearing to notice my sudden fright, shot back out the window. And, if my memory does not deceive, I think it actually spoke!

"Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!" It said, I presume.

I am truly speculating that it was a dream. Yet the past days and weeks forbid the thought to go far. I wish for morning light to touch my pale face.

Charles Hanes Whistle's Journal

May, 1

Dear, dear journal, and reader,

By the will of the good God by God I say unto you, thank you! I have just enough strength to write, so I shall!

Moona! I have never mentioned her in any of my previous entries but I shall tell you about her now! Her name is Moona! My dearly beloved Moona! How I do love her so!

She is coming to see me at noon today. I am in the town hospital as I write this. We will wed while I'm in bed. You see I have suffered from a brain fever from my experiences. I shudder at the thought of the Count, and what he has done to me. Though I salivate at the thought of his scrambles eggs.

Ah yes! how did I forget?! Herald Frankoonstein! He's fine but I'll tell you what followed after he crashed through the roof of the carriage and I wrote it down.

{April 27, four days ago}

I shoved my journal back in my coat pocket, but before I could put my pen up we hit a large bump in the road, and by God my dear pen flew out of my hands and out the window! It was tragic. I lay down and sobbed. The horses snarled and neighed. We were going at top speed, or was it bottom?

I lay there watching the trees fly without my window. Three days I lay there before dear Herald awoke. He started and screamed aloud. It was ear shattering. In-fact I had not seen him wake, and it gave me such a start I screamed also and layed him out with a knuckle strike. He fell back into a deep slumber. I felt horrible.

I gathered my strength and poked my head out the window to see if we were being followed. What I saw shocked me, it was so shocking I don't think I can explain what I saw, but I shall try. It was not wolves, it was not ogres nor werewolves, nor beasts or monsters, it was Dracoola, and he was hot on us. But not like the Dracoola I had known, I believe he had released all of the hell fury that was, or is, in him. And by God it was horribly terrible.

He was massive. He must have been 11 feet in height. His black robes were mighty, and many, if that makes any sense. His hair, long, tremendously long, and flowing, His teeth shown like icicles, and were terribly long! His eyes were at full blaze, wide open in hate! His eye brows were again a hot bar of iron, but now encompassed his entire forehead! Each stomp he made was like the sound of a great thunder storm! But strangely the ground did not shake, at-least not to me. But the strongest thing of all was the smell of him. Even from where I was I could smell him. It was the most overwhelming thing I have ever experienced! It was that smell of the drivers hair, oil! Horribly, terribly, tremendously, breathtakingly strong. I vomed on the spot and toileted myself.

I threw myself back in the carriage and started scooping the toilet matter out of my pants, and out the window at Dracoola. It was rank, and for some reason I thought it might stop him. It didn't of-course.

I had to get him off of our tail! I awoke Herald. He started but did not scream. There was a horrible looking knot just over his left eye where I had struck him. I said my apologies and they were excepted. I told him the situation at hand.

"I am at a loss, I don't know what to do." he muttered. Then grimaced, and lifted his right arm up. By God it was all wrong-ways. It was bent twice from the fall he underwent, once right past the elbow, and another time at the wrist. He held it out, staring at it, and said:

"Oh my, what a terrible inconvenience." And then with expert skill, slung it back in place, somehow. If I could describe to you how it sounded, it would be something like this: SNAP, CRACKLE, and POP!

Then the madness happened. Just as Herald had finished fixing his arm, a mighty arm crashed through Herald's side's window. It was the Count's, I could tell by the long finger nails, and the curly hairs in the center of the palms. But then something happened that was most wild. The hairs in the palms grew longer, and longer, soon they filled the entire carriage. They wreathed about us, and tangled around us. It was most frightening and odd. The oil smell came on me again, but I suppressed an upchuck.

All-of-a-sudden there was a great crash as if the Count had ran into a tree, and his arm flew back out of the carriage, ripping his palm hairs out, leaving them wrapped tightly around me and Herald. We untangled and stuck our heads out of the carriage and looked back to see if the Count had been stopped.

We were shocked to find him rather far behind, but still hot on us, his entire right side was dented in vertically in the shape of a tree-trunk. It made him run awkward. Then he yelled and leaped amazingly far. As he soared toward us I perceived he was going to crash on us. I grabbed up Herald, quickly made my way to the driver's seat, and leaped for a horse just as the Counts arms hammered the carriage to a thousand million pieces right behind us. I landed on the left horse, crotch first mind you, with Herald in my lap. I turned my head back and the Count was gaining and terribly angered, then I got an idea. I looked down at Herald and asked him if he had a knife. He looked as if he was fading in and out of consciousness, but nodded and produced a knife so large and heavy God knows how he fit it in his clothing. I grabbed it sliced down at the ropes that held the horses together. I freed the other horse and ran mine into it slightly to slow it down. It worked, and as it fell behind towards the Count, and with a terrible scream of anger he crashed into it and seemed to shrink back to his normal self as he tumbled and flipped on the ground. We were free!

"Ya!" I yelled. "To the town hospital!" I added, hoping the horse understood. Evidently it had. We reached the town and then made our way to the hospital. I jumped off holding Herald and the great horse darted away, back toward the castle road I presume.

{May 1}
And now here I lay, writing this down, waiting for Moona.

{Later}
Ah, my dear Moona! She made it on time and we wedded! How I love her so!
She had bought me some new clothes as a wedding gift. They were all brown, shoes, trousers, socks, undershirt, top coat, and a hat. Oh my Moona, how thoughtful of her! I hadn’t anything to give her and apologized. But she smiled and said: “Oh Charles! Don’t worry. Just buy me a new house sometime.”

“Of-course.” I said, and fell asleep.

{Later, before midnight.}
I have been through quite a-lot since I last wrote in the hospital. I shall tell where I am, and what took place.

{A few hours ago}
By God I was awoke by my hospital room door opening. And through it stepped a tall male nurse. I was instantly aware of whom the man was by the presence he gave off. The hairy presents. It was the Count! He was wearing the standard nurses clothing but it was drenched in blood. He glared at me. He was clean shaven, and his long hair was pulled back and bound behind his rather large head.

And just as he was about to lunge at me, I'm sure, another nurse waltzed in. He stopped and turned. The female nurse gasped and said:

"Oh my! Are you alright?! Is that blood?!"

And the Count answered, with cunning speech: "Ah? No, no. My dear lady, it is vine."

"Vine?" replied the nurse.

"Yes, vine." He was growing angry.

"Oh, oh... Wine!" chuckled the nurse.

The Count's eyes flamed! "YOU... RUDY... BITCH!" screamed the Count. "I SAID VINE!!!!" And with one mighty swoop of his long arm, he made open the woman's throat with a long, sharp fingernail. Oh my God, the blood! It was a mess, everywhere it sprayed. The count seized her before she fell. He opened his mouth, his tongue protruded out, letting the blood fly in. Bliss, on his face.

I jumped out of my bed while he was indulging. I grabbed up my clothes, sprinted across the room, out dove out the open window! I fell three stories and onto goose. God speed you wonderful fowl! It saved my life.

Diary of Herald F. Frankoonstein

~May 1~ dusk

This bed is beginning to feel like an awful coffin. It makes me think of the Count. I can almost feel him beside me. I am afraid to glance over my shoulder on occasions.

---(-)---

Good heavens! I fear I just saw a fellow fall by my window! A soft thump and a quack I heard follow. I wish I could stand and walk over to peer out, but both of my legs are broken.

Yes, they hurt.

---(-)--- near morning

The blasted fog of sorts is creeping into my window now! I lay as still as a man who has croaked. It is wandering toward me! I will jump up on my mangled legs and shut the window. This is not going to feel well, I presume.

I..I.. am bleeding, horribly. My God help me. Someone help me!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

I got up, and ran, and ran, and ran until I found my way to a library of all places. Outside I quickly dressed in the clothes my Moona had bought me. When I had dressed, I calmly strolled in the library. Inside was an old kind woman. Bent, very bent, but kind. I asked her for some water, she smiled, nodded, and was off.

I was then caught by the sound of labored breathing coming from the corner. I looked.

In the corner sat a monstrously large man. Six and a half feet at full height a presume. The chair he was seated in was dwarfed by the size of what was atop it. He was wearing silver-rimmed glasses. The man's hair was strawberry-blond. And what little he had left of it was swept back over his large shiny skull and came to rest at the back of his neck, there it curled upward. Curly sideburns running down each side of his intriguing face. His face was red and plump, below, three chins met a blue bow-tie. He was reading two books at once, cradled more by his huge stomach than his great hands.

I thought he was looking at me so I waved slightly.

No response followed.

I moved closer. When I got a better angle on him I found that the eye that I thought was observing me was cocked. He was reading with his right. I felt drawn to him. As if God himself were leading me to him. I approached and sat in a chair beside him. He didn't smell too well I can tell you that.

"Hello." I said.

He started slightly, grunted, cleared his throat, and turned his head, looking at me with his right eye. His eyes were a dark blue and keen, well, the right one.

"Hallo!" He uttered, with a tremendously deep voice. Barley discernible due to a thick accent I could not place. I started a tad at the shear power behind his voice. "I sorry I not see you there! My eye left is quite... dead." He said slowly and raised his hand, and flicked the lazy cocked eye.

I winced at the sight, but maintained my manners. I hardly knew what he said, but made sense of it.

"It's quite alright." I said. "What is your name?"

"Voon! Abroohoom Voon Helsing!" He grinned and shot up his right hand for a shake. As he did the books fell from his lap. "Ah no, hold on." He said and bent over for the books on the floor at his feet. He grunted and strained. The chair, squeaking and popping, seeming about to burst. He made one last lunged of sorts for the books, but no gold, as they say.

He grunted as he sat back up properly, cleared his throat, and shot back out the hand. I took it and shook it.

"My name is Charles." I said, his hand enveloping mine, a very warm, soft hand, but rough in texture. "Charles Whistle."

He released. "Ja! Nice to meet!" He said.

The old bent lady approached with the glass of water I asked for in her shaking, faltering grip. "Here you go dear." She said as she held out the water in her hand, sending it spilling and splashing on me. I seized it.

"Thank you so much." I said, but she was already off.I started drinking the rather warm water. But by God I was thirsty. Relieved, I turned back to Voon.

"So, where are you from?" I asked.

"I am Hollands!" He managed.

"Ah, um, you are Dutch?" I asked.

"Ja! You?" he replied.

"I'm from the London area." I answered.

"You must mauke money okee! London fine boozness if come there from!" he laughed.
I smiled, not knowing to answer or not.

He jolted in his chair, almost leaping off it. "Ah! Charles Whistle?!" he yelled, excitement in his eyes.

"Yes." I said.

"My Lord dear! I've you heard of! The lad went to Count's kasteel! And twice leeved to tell!" He coughed hoarsely and loudly, then brought a pipe to his mouth. But stopped before lighting it.

"Mind smoke?" he seemingly asked.

"Well, actually, I would rather you not, I'm not feeling too well." I said as politely as possible.

"Neen problem." he said, and put the pipe away, then cleared his throat. "Where were I?" He paused, and thought for a minute. Then suddenly jolted again. "Ah ja! ja! Charles Whistle!"

"Yes." I repeated."What honor! I've heard you of! Nice to meet!"

"Thank you." I said. “So, you've heard of me?" I asked.

He turned. "Ja!"

"Would you like to read this?" I asked and took out my diary, presenting it to him.

His eyes grew wide. "Ah! Ja! Ja! I love read!"

I handed it to him. And he started reading it. Every page. By God it was fascinating. A page every five or six seconds I presume!

As he read I heard the entrance door open, and through it walked a very tall man. He was wearing all black, a long black overcoat, and I wide-brimmed hat that shadowed his face. He reminded me of someone, but I was so enthralled by Voon's reading ability, my mind drifted from the strange man.

"Hmm." sounded Voon. "Ah! Mm. Ahem!"

A few minutes went by of the reading and the noises until he was done.

He took a deep breath and handed my journal back to me. "Brilliant!" He yelled. "Amazing!" His sudden outburst catching the attention of the tall man in black. Which was now wandering the shelves, examining some of the books.

"Ahhh! So okee! I okee news! I known of this Count! I tell you how kill!" Voon uttered.

"You know how to kill him?!" I asked, very shocked.

"Ja! Paal heart in!" he said.

"I'm sorry, "paal?" I asked.

"Paal... english?..." I presume it was a question."I don't know what you're saying." I said, confused.

"Uhhh.. paal... Wood! Sharp!" he was miming something seemingly obscene. Thrusting his hand up and down, as if stabbing something perhaps.

The tall man grew in agitation it seemed, and finally quickly turned and said loudly: "A stake!" By God the voice! It was revealed to me at once of who the man was that was so familiar to me! How dumb I was not to see it! It was him! The Count! I immediately began to perspirate! Shaking seized my body! I felt as though I was about to faint.

"Ah! Dank! Ja, a stake!" said Voon to the Count. Then glanced at me, obviously noticing my sickish state. "Okee you?"

"Ye.. ye.. yes. I.. I'm alright." The words managed to escape my weak lips. I don't think the Count knew who I was, it must have been the hat I had on. The Count put up the book that was in his hand, and left the library. He was probably looking for me, but I was surly saved!

I turned to Voon. "That was him!" I said. "That was Dracoola!"

"Sure?" he asked, quite shocked.

"Positive! That's why I looked sick just then!"

"Oh, pfff... Do.. think he heard me talking of kill him?!" Voon asked.

"I don't think he understood you much. Just maybe you trying to say "stake". Besides, you didn't say his name." I replied, still shaking a tad.

"God on our side!" He smiled. "Ah! Don't be troubles! Now he think you not here. You safe!" he smiled. "I live here. You may live here also! For time. Accept?"

"Yes, thank you!" I was relieved and humble.

"Ja, go stairs up, doon hall, doon hall right, second door left. That be you bedroom. I live next room." said Voon. "I tell old woman. Go, rest. We talk morrow"

"Thank you." I said and started for the stairs. I walked up them, then straight down a hall until I came to another hall on the right side, down it, until a reached the second door on the left. I opened it and before I walked inside Voon came thundering down the hall! His massive body squeezing down it and past me.

"Badkamer, badkamer, badkamer!" he kept repeating. He raced inside his room (the third room on the left) and slammed the door. A few clatters and a slammed door later I heard it. A prolonged yell of relief, and then the sounds immense defecation.

"Uahahahahahhhh... SPLASH! PLUNK! SPLAH! PPPFFFFF!" The yell of relief turned to a moan, followed by a deep breath.

I walked inside my new bedroom. It was small but cozy. A small bed, a table with a lit lantern beside it, a small sofa, a fireplace, and a medium sized window above the small table. And connected to my room was a bathroom. Thank the Lord! I had to toilet! I looked about and found a clock on the wall. It read: 9:05 pm.

I toileted, bathed, and now have written this down by the lantern light on the small table beside my bed.

Tomorrow, I shall talk some more with Voon, and find Moona, my dear Moona.So, good night.

{______

May, 2

Morning broke through the dark night sky like a ray of hope! I have just awoke no more than thirty minutes ago and am ready to see what the day brings! Off I go.

{Later, noon}
I'm writing this as me and Voon are outside a small cafe next to the rather busy town road. We are waiting for my lovely Moona! She is to meet us here. I put a letter of this text in her mail box this morning:

“Dear my dearly beloved lovely Moona! This is your husband, Charles.

I have encountered the Count in my hospital room but escaped! I made my way to the town library and met a man named Voon Helsing! He says he knows how to kill the Count!

Yes, the Count is in town but do not fear my dear! Voon says to where a cross around your neck and you'll be fine!

Voon and I would like to meet you outside the town cafe. We will be there all day until you arrive. So take your time if you must my love! See you soon.

I Love you so.

P.S. Listen closely to what Voon says, he is hard to understand.”

Now that I think of it, I don't know why I didn't just knock on her door when I put that letter in her box.

Me and Voon have talked today. And here is what was revealed to me about the Count by the professor Voon who has studied him and his ways for years:

-Dracoola is a voompire of sorts!
-He is hundreds of years old.
-He can be killed by a stake to the heart, or any other sharp object.
-He can appear as fog or mist.
-Can trance you in your sleep! And then suck!

Voon Helsing is very knowledgeable about many a-evil!

Moona! I see her on the road! Like a star coming forth through a clouded night! Oh here she is! Wearing a blue dress, and a lady’s top hat atop the most top of her head. By God how is it staying on? No matter! We shall embrace!

{Later, evening}
Me, Moona, and Voon are in Moona's house. Well wouldn't you know it's my house also! We are settling in after a short talk. Here is how the day has went:

{Earlier, just after Moona's arrival}
When I was done embracing for God knows how long, I introduced Moona to Voon. When we turned I noticed something about Voon. I believe he was aroused by the sight and quality my Moona. He came forth to greet her.

He reached and wrapped surrounding her. "You beeyutiful woman!" he said.

"Thank you." I heard my wife's muffled voice saying from inside the hulking cocoon-like hug.

He released her and turned to me.

"You beeyutiful wife, Charles."

"Yes, she is." I agreed.

Moona walked up to me and we sat down together, side-by-side. Voon sat opposite us.

"Do you have a wife?" I asked Voon.

"Neen, neen! I Rokkenjager." He answered.

"Ah." I replied, not knowing what he said. There was a moment of silence as Voon observed Moona. At last he spoke.

"Brilliant!" he yelled, starting us. "You okee couple!"

Me and Moona glanced at each-other.

"Th.. thank you." Moona said.

"Now to business!" exclaimed Voon. "Kruis round neck! Kruis.. english for kruis...?"

"Pardon me...?" said Moona.

"Oh oh... you not hear?" Voon asked.

"Oh! I think I understand, I'll tell her." I said and turned to my wife. "We need to put a cross around your neck..."

"At your service!" Broke in Voon loudly. "Here." and he came forth, and swiftly placed a necklace with a large silver cross on it around Moona's neck.

Moona nodded politely. "Thank you."

"Ah! Okee." replied Voon.

"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you." I said to Moona. "When me and Voon were talking in the library, a strange man entered. Tall, in all black, with a black hat obscuring his face. A minute later I came to my senses and realized who that man was when I heard his voice! It was the Count..."

"Don't be alarmed!" Screamed Voon. "He not know it wasn’t Charles! He left!"

"Yes." I said, looking at my wife’s worried face. Then she seemed sick. Then upchucked on me. It smelt of moldy mold.

"I go get clean!" said Voon and lifted up, chair still attached to his rear. He hammered his way into the cafe.

"I'm sorry my dear." said my Moona.

I took her face and kissed her, forgetting she had just vomed. "It's alright my dear." I said to her. "I understand, it was a frightening tale."

Voon returned with loads of soaking wet, steaming hot rags in his great hands. But stopped short of us and glanced to his left. "The Count!" He yelled, then dove at what he saw. His immense body slammed against a tall man, that was clearly not the Count. Both men went hurling to the ground with a tremor. Voon lifted up and saw what he had done. "Oh Lord!" he said, breathlessly. "I sorry, I thought someone else!"

Voon helped the tall man up, and the aghast crowd gasped. The tall slender man was.. bent back from the impact!

"Oh dear God!" muttered Voon. "You alright?!"

"Yes, I fear I'm fine. It's happened before it'll happen again." smiled the tall man, and walked off.

Voon came to Moona, and cleaned. "I sorry for delay!" he said. When the upchuck was cleaned, Voon sat back down, chair still attached. He cleared his throat loudly. Then again, louder. "Know I Count! We must garlic hang round house!"

"Yes! lets." I said.

We went to the Town market, purchased rings of garlic, went to our house on the edge of town, and hung the garlic around it. We came inside, bathed, toileted, and sat down with Voon around the fireplace.

"So!" started Voon, "Here stay we tonight. Morrow comes, we see if Count hath gone!"

"Yes." I said. "Perhaps the Count is gone! Perhaps he thought I ran away!" I looked at my Moona and she looked happy.

"Still!" yelled Voon. "We look morrow comes yet!"

"Ok." I said.

"If Count be gone," began Voon, "we meet friends, make team!, and wait for Winter to kill Dracoola!"

"Why Winter?" asked my Moona.

"Winter day short! More time to hunt!" answered Voon.

"But the Count comes out at night." I said.

"Do not question! I know we must do! It best time many a-reason." replied Voon.

"Alright. I'm sure it's best. We need time to plan also." I agreed.

"Yes! Rest, morrow we search!" said Voon, and we went to our rooms.

I will bed now. Goodnight.

{______

May 3,

{Dusk}
By God today went by quite fast. No sign of the Count. We searched as many places and asked as many people as we could. We got some strange stories but nothing to worry about. Thank God.

So, with the help of the good Lord we will, over time, gather our resources, and gather friends, to help us on this undertaking. In a few days, I’ll get Voon to meet the best man I know, and possibly the bravest! Herald Frankoonstein! I know he will help.

Diary of Dr. Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein

~May 10~ noon

The days since my last writings I was in a horrible coma. I dreamed and dreamed. The Count was in them. He talked to me. Black words. Dark words. I don't remember them. My head feels like a sack of pain! I almost fear to tell you of that night I last wrote, for it will force me to bring up awful feelings and memories. I warn you, they will be abstract, and maybe inaccurate. Here I try:

As I waddled on aching stalks of legs to the open window I tripped on something, I don't remember what, but I landed on the hard floor with a grunt. I saw the mist, somehow, form into a tall figure of a man. It stayed in this smoky form whilst it hurled my flopping body against walls, and tables, and the ceiling. And my memory is showing me an image of my body landing outside on a dead goose, strange. Soon after my diary somehow fell upon my chest, and I wrote those awful pleading words. I fell into the nightmares then.

Now, as I write, I am in another room than I was in before, and was informed earlier, by dear Whistle, that I am to meet a man named Voon.

Charles described him as a kind, large fellow with a mind of smarts. He also mentioned that his words are hard to make clear on occasion, "So listen carefully".

I am supposedly supposed to learn a great deal of the Count from him and find a means to dispatch of him! When I heal from my multiple body-wounds I hope I will be in-the-fits for it.

---(-)---Here he is.

My.. God!

> Maganificaant of journeey of alle red. Yet eye wander whye you "My... God!" write. It s' okee, tho.

---(-)---

What a lengthened, exhausting chatter we had. I jotted quick notes of it on a piece of scrap whilst I listened, to aid me on the task of transcribing it in this diary:

He slumped in and heavily, slowly squashed his massive rear into a waiting chair which he had presumably brought with him from the lobby. The chair creaked and snapped throughout our talk. He removed a long pipe from a breast pocket, lit it, and inhaled the swirls of blue smoke into his lofty chest. At length, he spoke:

"I'm never guess.. You be minuscuul!" He said with a tone of booming drums.

I pardoned myself and asked him to recite the last word again.

"English of minuscuul?..." He muttered and twitched an eyebrow to listen in on my response. I had none. And told him so.

He cleared his throat and waved his hand in a manner that clearly stated, "forget it".

He tossed his pipe from his brutish hand out the open window, leaned in closer to me, and spoke:

"I hear you stay Dracoola's Kasteel. Hard must have been, under all roof and stone. So high to see up, down. Crowded ways lead to him, not always, hmm?"

I was, in a way, too embarrassed to ask him to repeat himself again. So I only nodded, and grunted. My response was good enough, I guess, because he continued on after a deep loud breath:

"How to come like this?" He was pointing at me as he said it."How... to...?" I stuttered, and was unable to answer. He noticed. repositioned himself, and politely made a gesture which clearly said, "I will repeat myself".

"How you are come to this? Look of hurt."I figured he was asking why am I injured. As I was answering, he interrupted.

"Ah! ah! It okee... stop. Can read dagbook? I need read dagbook. I did Charles's. Must know what took place in the rooms of other odd things. Uh... English of dagbook?

"He was making a gesture that resembled writing. I figured he wanted to read my diary."Ah yes, you may." I answered. "By the way, it is called a diary in English."

He looked confused as I handed him this. "Dank." he said, grabbing it.

He sat there and read the whole thing before my very eyes a page every 5 seconds! His right eye was a ball of blur. I was most fascinated watching him, studying him. His soft-looking hand turn the pages, which looked so tiny in his vast grip. When he was done he took out a pen and scribbled the text you saw above, in the thick print. Then spoke again:

"Any off-normal have experiences when in Hospital?"

Then I remembered the fog and mist, which so oddly sweeps in my room some nights, and told him of it.

"Verven of fog?" He asked, as a male nurse walked in. Tall and slender. Black hair, long, curly, familiar.

The nurse oddly walked into the bathroom after starting as he saw Voon sitting in the chair, and shut the door.

After a silent second, kindly Voon asked again:

"Verven of fog?"

I hadn't any clue of what he was asking. And he could tell.

"English of Verven?" he strained the question.

I didn't know. He could tell.

Then the male nurse in the bathroom grunted angrily: "He wants to know what color the damn fog was!"

A relieved grin passed over Voon's round face as he motioned toward the bathroom door.I answered the question: "I think it was a grey-blue."

"Ah ja! color of Dracoola's!"

"Yes?" the man in the bathroom said. Voon and I looked at each other, puzzled.

"I mean... Yes, I... I..." The nurse spoke, then stopped. Voon understood what I understood. The nurse was, or could be the Count. That explained the odd smell of oils!

Voon somehow managed to lift himself from the chair and creep to the bathroom door, yet he stopped short and turned to me.

"Have kruis?" He asked. "English of kruis?"

"Cross!" The nurse screamed, straining.

"No, I have none." I answered.

Then Voon slung open the door with a massive crash. And put his two index fingers into a fat cross-shape. Dracoola's face turned into a demonic expression of hate and surprise. He instantly poofed into the mist, and floated down the skin drain as Voon swung wildly through the fog.

When the mist was gone Voon clutched at his heaving chest. Sweat beading upon his slick cranium. His red face was a grimace of pain and trauma.

"WATERRRRR!" He whined in a gurgling tone. Then fainted to the floor. Just then Whistle leaped into the room.

~May 12~

Voon Helsing apparently had a mind stroke of sorts, and is now lying in a bed to my left.

My God, he's a snorer. And no sign of that blasted fog so far, thank God.

As I lay here I simply think of my great new doctor, Sooward is his name. He has a fine smile, yet large teeth that frighten me on occasion. On either side of his strong face are long groomed sideburns that stop at plump lips. His hair is shoulder-length and quite straggly. And of course, the unmistakable smell of a doctor floats about him.

Letter from Doctor Sooward to Miss Moona Whistle (received, and opened on July 5)

-- My dearest Moona

I have had a good, healthy doctoring to the fine man named Herald Frankoonstein over the last four months. I have nurtured him back to good health, save for a small limp of his right leg. But that is just fine, and he seems in good spirits about it. Ha! he says it adds to his character. Great man. Good sense of humor. Hardened through a strenuous trial he had undergone in the month of April.

Any-who, my purpose of this message was to ask you if you would mind meeting in the wonderful garden by my house sometime. I am only going to discuss the dream I heard you had last week, and was wandering if you would mind of me bringing Voon Helsing to ask some questions. I believe he is writing a letter to your beloved husband, which you may receive before you receive this letter. Until then...

Cheerio --

Dr.S

Letter from Professor Voon Helsing to Sir Charles Whistle

Hallo there en, Charles MR!.

Diricting my thowts to you! I sure am anticipating a speedy diliver y to letter of.

His, by his, I say: Sooward set letter Moona too!

Hope decide to come, tho you are most welcom. Drean must have been awbad.

Under all condishons come if can? you!

>Vaarwel!

Voon

Clipping from The Town Press, pasted in H. Frankoonstein's Diary

Sunday, July 9

A most frightening thing transpired in a street in Mogham Park early yesterday morning as a many fled from the sight. A young couple were walking about and were suddenly seized by a tall man in all black. And, according to witnesses, were swiftly whisked up to the clouds almost!

Herald F. Frankoonstein's diary (following the clipping)

What a horrifying event. It seems now that the Count is amongst us, feeding of our street-folk!

I wander if he knows where I am.. I wander if you know. I'll tell you.

I was released from the Hospital no more than a week ago and am feeling not half shavvy. I truly regret not writing of my lengthy recovery, but I was in an awful mess and it pained my hand to grasp a pen. It was a wonder I survived I tell you.

As of now I am with Voon and my Doctor in a lodge just outside of Town. We only intend to stay for a night or so.

To my left is a window peering out onto a hill covered in yellow flowers that bend and wave at me when the wind a-blows.

Postcard, Moona and Charles Whistle to Dr. Sooward and Voon Helsing (Picture on front-side of an ornate silver cross, laying on a bed of silk)

Yes we will come to your fine cottage.

See you then

~Moona/Charley W.

Diary of Dr. Sooward

= July 11

They had come at last! It was noon, and our garden was delightful. Yet it was a down-pour.. Voon's sweat I mean. His greasy face was shining with it.

Voon and I were sitting on one of the stone benches in the garden, with Charles and his lovely wife opposite us, on another bench. I started the conversation:

"Many thanks for coming my dearlies. I suppose we should head straight for the point.

Moona looked to be in a good mood to discuss, so I let her speak, while Charles comforted her.

"Well. I was asleep; and having awful dreams of a man in a long black coat who seemed to hover ever closer to my window." She said intently. And I looked at Voon. His look was more focused on the giant bee buzzing round his right foot. His eyes large, and frightened. He began to sweat more, I think, as he saw it coming toward his chest. And suddenly with a mighty swap of his back-hand he sent it to the ground.

"Escuse! Go forward." He grumbled, and lit his pipe. She continued:

"Anyway, he motioned his hand and the window was made open, and soon a great, dark wolf jumped in! It's white teeth bared and shining in the bright moon-light. And for some reason Charles would not awake. I watched, frozen, as the tall man floated in and slew the beast and began drinking its blood! When he had done, he threw it in the closet and went away, back out the window."

"Then?" I asked

"I fainted and awoke the next morning." She ended, and collapsed in Charles's arms, who has crying immensely.

"AH!" Voon screamed, and sent us all jumping, then he gasped:

"Check it! Check closet! It always true to what dream say. It may!" Then he shot off alone toward Moona's house, I presume, yet it was across the town. But as he was running he stopped and turned round, shaking his head.

"Badkamer, badkamer." He was saying, as he passed us and came away into my house.

Diary of Herald F.

~July 11~ Night

After using the bathroom, Voon came to me and asked if I would join him in going to Moona's house to examine a body. I will admit that I was tired of body-work after my happenings with the Count, but out of courtesy, I agreed to help.

After a long, quite pleasant, walk with Sooward, Moona, my dear Charles, and Voon to the house, we walked up to a bedroom and Voon asked Moona where a wolf was put, or something. And I asked of what happened, and Charles explained plainly and quickly.

With a sudden, startling jerk Voon flung the closet open and inside lay the body of a wolf! It's hair was dark grey and matted with dried blood.

"AH! See I say so!" Voon screamed. "Must we, me you Herald, autopsy!"

I followed him slowly down toward a basement whilst he was holding the animal in one mighty grip. When we reached our destination, I watched him clear a table swiftly. Works of clay-art were shattered, and broken. I had heard this was Charles's hobby, poor fellow. I nearly got angry with Voon, yet I eased myself, and carried on.

He slung the body onto the table, and unraveled a long kit of surgical equipment.

"Please, grab what is needing." He whispered, and began shaving the fur off the belly of the wolf. The hair was sent flying all over Voon and into the air. When he had done, I took a small blade of sorts and laid open the skin. By God the blood erupted into Voon's face and hair. He grunted as I came to his aid, yet he waved his hand in defiance.

"Neen, neen! It happens all time!" he mumbled. After searching the bends of the basement for a moment, he came back with a stool and small rolling-chair, which he was sitting on as he came toward me with a smile.

"Here, friend Herald. The chair."

I thanked him, sat down, and we went back to work. Voon also seemed to find a dirty rag, which he was using to remove some of the blood splattered on him.

I made another incision and, thankfully, no more squirted out. Voon dug his hands into the two holes, and started crudely ripping things out of them. Innards were soaring amongst the walls, and floor. Now blood was immensely gushing; yet Voon was undeterred! I only sat back and watched. I may have been in some sort of shock, now that I think of it.

"How bloed much so? I know neen!" He screamed.

After an hour or so he was done. Exhausted, and panting he said: "Okee! This voompire dog!"

---(-)---

We are now returning upstairs where I smell hot tea, and a cookie I think. Moona must be a fine baker!

"I must shower before they see me." I tell Voon. He stops, takes me by my shoulder, and leans down close to my face.

"Do not ashamed!" He says sternly. "You done fine work. Now go eat. Forget of bloed and body.

I refuse, politely, saying that I can't eat while dirty.

He shakes his head. "Okee. Go clean."

---(-)--- near midnight, bedding in Moona and Charles’s sufficient guest-room.

After I showered I came away downstairs to a fine snack of cookies and tea. Voon was still bloody as he told of what happened in the basement.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

August 2,

By God I looked in the mirror today for the first time in months I suppose and my hair, it's damned grey!

I asked Moona how long it's been that way and she said ever since my last visit to the castle.Oh well, it doesn't look half bad on me I do say.

{______

August 7,

This forenoon, after finally cleaning up the awful mess that Voon and Herald made during the autopsy last month, wolf entrails, and my broken art works, I was downstairs working on a wooden sculpture of mine, Moona was at the Town Market, when there came a knock at the door. I rushed upstairs and opened the door to find a hunched man in a straight jacket and frizzy hair. I was somewhat frightened. I feared this man was an escaped trouble-doer. But I ignored the thought.

I greeted him saying: “Hello. Can I help you?”

“With what?” he said.

I thought I had been stumped, but recovered. “Well, with why you are here I suppose.”

“Why am I here?” he said.

“I‘m sorry is this a joke?” I said.

“Am I being funny?” he answered.

“Not at all.” I said, beginning to worry.

“I thought so.” he said. “I am here for you to aid me!”

“Aid you with what?” I said.

“With my problem!” he replied.

“What is your problem?”

“The beast!” he shouted.

“The beast?”

“Damn you to hell, THE BEAST!” he roared.

“Calm down sir.” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes. Sorry I got a little out of hand there.” he calmed himself. “I am chased by the beast.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know what the beast is.” I pleaded.

“The beast. It’s the thing that’s been chasing me!” he shouted.

“Please sir calm down, what is the beast? Please tell me I may be able to help you.” I said intently.

“It’s the thing chasing me!” he cried.

“Alright sir that’s enough!” I said sternly. “If you don’t leave right this second I’ll…” I was cut off in mid-sentence by the man darting off.

The man started crying aloud. “Alright.” I heard him cry, “I want my doctor!” then he was gone.
I don’t know what the beast is. But I fear it may be the Count. I shall tell Voon of this mad man, and keep a lookout.

Clipping from The Town Press, pasted in Herald F.’s Diary (August 10)

Around five o’clock yesterday evening a wild man in some sort of a straight jacket was running toward West Street, whilst knocking pedestrians aside and yelling strange words. Witness, D. Rosebank, a stately man, claims to have seen the event first hand!
-“I tell you, he was pure mad I say! His hair was all frizzy and untidy. His teeth were a color of urine! … Oh, and after that a very towering folk, wearing all black, leapt after him. Yet the crazy fellow sped on faster. And the chaser grew tired and flew away, I think. … God help us all!”
Other witnesses did not comply to being interviewed.

Diary of Herald F. (Following the clipping)

I will try most hard to keep you informed through the passing months with these intriguing newspaper articles.

At present, I am living in a lodge, with my doctor Sooward.

~September 12~ midnight

What is that?!

I sit here peering out my window as a god-awful bat flutters it’s way round outside. The moon is large and ominous; as if it watches me look at it.

All is very quiet and eerie as I write this by candle-light.

If that blasted bat tries to come forth at me I am ready with my whacking-rod!

---(-)--- an hour later

I am frightened. I now watch a dark figure pass through the hedges out my window, a floor down. Silently.

Thankfully it now is moving away from the lodge. But the bat is moving slowly towards it and it appears the figure notices.

The bat and the figure now run with each other over a distant hill. My oh my, I sweat like a cold glass of water when I’m nervous! Which I could use right about now I tell you! And will get one swiftly.

Diary of Dr. Sooward

=Sep. 15

The case of Roonfield grows more strangely now. At day he is a violent bird, dangerous, with a quick temper. Yet at night he is quiet, calm, and dreary. He has escaped twice in the last month or so, and we always find him running to an old chapel of sorts in the west of Town. I am wandering why he does this, but I may be over thinking it. He is just a madman I presume.

He, as well as other patients of mine, are at the hospital to the north: “Hospital of Town” it is called. Rumors of my family say my grand-pap helped build it, and that it was in my blood to work there. I sometimes believe it, for I am as comfortable as a dog in bed while I am there.

Anyhow, back to Roonfield, He eats the most horrific things: Flies, flees, frogs, and once I even caught him with a cat! Blood was most all over.

Strange stories encircle Town of a tall man in all black terrorizing folk. I know not whether this has anything to do with Roonfield but I hope to find out with my studies on him.

= Oct. 30

Hallows eve - night. I sit now in the hospital with Voon Helsing discussing the odd ways of Roonfield. After over a month of not writing in this diary it is a refreshment to do so.

Voon says: “So, what his doing?”

I answer: “He suffers from many disorders. He eats many strange things.” I name them.

Voon shakes his head, and thinks. “I suspect he do deal with Dracoola for food.”

“Dracoola?!” I ask.

“Ja.” He answers, still shaking his head.

“Explain, please.”

He does: “You see, Dracoola make man mad. Mess him mind up. Very dangerous person encounter.”

I respond nodding. I truly hate to say it, but I find him uninformative.

He speaks again: “I’m say that his mind isn’t okee.”

“I know.” I answer.

He only shakes his head more, and begins to smoke his pipe.

A number of bumps from the floor above! Voon has noticed, and is standing up.
Screams now! It’s Roonfield!

(Later)

As we came into the room we found the poor madman sprawled upon the cold floor. His head was severely opened up, and brains were protruding.

“Now! Now! I make surgery! Help!” Voon screamed.

A moment later he had Roonfield on an operating table.

After long moments, Roonfield suddenly woke, and inhaled so long I thought his lungs would burst. Without hesitation, Voon asked him of the event that just happened, and he told.

“I tried. I tried to stop him..”

“Good, good.” I attempted to comfort him. “Then what?”

“He told me that he has sucked upon people! I felt I didn’t want him to do that anymore, so I attacked him.”

“Then?” I asked, as Voon’s eyes widened some.

“I thought I was winning. I though I was winning! Yet he flung me yonder into the wall, and my head opened. That’s all. I think I am fine to leave now!” And he tried to sit up! Voon swiftly put a shoulder-pinch upon him and sent him fast asleep.

“Don’t ask how know to know that.” Voon said.

The operation quickly ended as Voon patched his head round with bandages, and added: “I sorry, but I accidentally killed him.” As I was too shocked to respond, Voon slowly went away, the small chair stuck unto his hulking posterior.

Letter to Moona Whistle, from Loocy, (Sent on November 25th)

Dear Moona,

Congratulation on getting married! I'm so happy for you. I will be close to Town and would love to come see you, maybe have dinner with you and Charles.

So if so, please tell me. I'm staying at the motel outside of town for a month.- Your best friend, Loocy.

Letter to Loocy, from Moona Whistle, (Sent November 28th)

Hello Loocy! It's so nice to hear from you again.Yes, that would be lovely for you to have dinner with us. We live in the house just on the west side of town.

We will await your arrival.

Sincerely - Moona

Moona Wistle's Diary

Dec/3

My friend Loocy had dinner with us today. And what an adventure it was. I shall tell.

Voon lives here now but we didn't want to frighten Loocy by telling her his purpose. Nor have we told her anything about the Count.

When she arrived it was unexpectedly, and late at night. Voon was in the kitchen. I motioned to him to hide and he did so quickly, but not so subtly. He ran across the kitchen and into the small pantry.

Charles, knowing Loocy would ask about his hair color, quickly solved the problem by swiftly covering his hair in molasses. Making it seem as if it was his natural brown.

Loocy entered and Charles and I greeted her. Charles began to make dinner as Loocy and I sat down to talk.

But Loocy looked up at Charles and exclaimed: "Why Charles! your hair! It's so shiny!"

"Yes it is!" he said not turning around.

Loocy looked at me confused, but I just smiled.

"Well." started Loocy, "How has everything been going with you two?"

"Absolutely great." I answered. "We are so happy." Charles nodded.

"Well great!" she smiled. Silence followed.

It was broken by a tremendous flatulent coming seemingly from the small pantry. Loocy started and looked about. "Was that you?" she asked Charles.

"Yes!" Charles laughed, never taking his eyes off the carrots he was dicing.

"Well, what are we having for dinner Charles?" Loocy asked.

"Oh! Um! Peas and carrots!" he answered loudly.

We ate and Loocy asked if she could stay for a while. She hated the motel she was staying at. Not being rude people, we said yes.

Dec/7

It is Winter cold outside.

Loocy has not been feeling a great deal good recently. She has strange marks on her neck. I do hope she’s alright.

Voon has been hiding in the pantry for the past four days. So he can’t examine her to see what’s the matter. He is survived off caned beans and wine. At-least that’s what he tells us when we check on him. He also says as long as Loocy is hear, he will stay there. I don’t know where he toilets but I do say I smell it when I go by the kitchen. Whew.

Loocy has mentioned she’ll stay for a couple of more days. But I hope she leaves sooner. She’s quite a loud-mouth if you know what I’m saying.

Until next time, ta-ta.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decimbor Seventh I beeleeve,
Oh dagboek! I lost yu in thy belly-fold and now found!

I in pantree. I am survive of beens and wyne. I toilet in empty bottles and place up! I alright! Ja Ja it stink. But I deal! A few day madam Moona tell me til Loocy leave us. I shall stay here then! I hath strength to!

Decimbor Eight,

Alas I hear scream! I abandon my hide! If Charles or Moona in trouble, I see! God give me strength!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/8

Oh no! Lord help us.

This morning, Loocy was banging around in her bedroom. It awoke me and Charles so we investigated. We slung open her bedroom door and lay aghast at the happening before us. What frightened us most was not the sight, but the knowledge of why it was.

Loocy was a voompire! And the cause must have been the Count! We had not protected her room with garlic or anything of the sort.

Loocy was on the ceiling flopping about. Apparently trying to fly I thought. I don’t think she knew or cared we were there, she just kept trying to soar into the sky, but only ceiling she hit! My Charles fainted just as Voon came crashing up the stairs out of breath, drenched in sweat, and beans, and other bodily fluids I don’t care to describe. As he saw the situation he ran - well, jogged - to his bedroom, and emerged seconds later with an assortment of evil-fighting tools strapped to him.

He entered the room, yelled in fury, and started flinging everything he had at the thing on the ceiling. Holy water, steaks, crosses, crackers, silver coins, bibles, babies, bunnies! Loocy crashed to the floor silent, dead… again… I suppose.

Whilst she lay there Voon took deep breaths for a minute, or ten, then lunged on her, grabbed a steak, and went at it. Pounding and Thrusting and stabbing and jabbing! Blood, oh Lord the blood! Five minutes, ten minutes, still going until there was nothing left but a figure of blood and guts.

Voon stopped and looked up, his face and body no less bloody that that beneath. “Water!” he yelled and fainted. Charles awoke.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 10,

It is as I have feared. The Count has found us. He knows we live here but we shall not leave. This house is too well protected. The Count found and turned Loocy into a voompire. Voon killed her and we stored the body in the icebox.

{Later, just after midnight}
It’s quite chill in this house. I think I’ll light the fireplace.

The damned thing won’t alight! The match that is. Why not?! I shall keep trying.

Moona whistle’s Diary

Dec/10

It’s just past midnight and Winter cold. I was just awoke by the chill and am feeling odd. I looked out the window a few moments ago and saw a strange mist slowly creeping it’s way toward the house.

Ah, wait! We forgot to hang the protecting things up after doing the house cleanup today! The mist is coming in through the door!

Charles is not in bed! Where is he? The mist is forming into a pillar! RED EYES! OH NO!!!!!!!

Charles Whistles Journal

{Still trying to light the match}
At last! The match alit! I knew it would… Moona! I heard her moan! I shall run up to her!

{Later}
Oh good heavens why?!!!! After I lit the match and wrote of the moan I ran up to our bedroom door. I tried to open it but it was locked! In fear I ran screaming to Voon. He jumped out of bed, grabbed his evil-fighting tools and we came to the door.

“Three we in!” Voon yelled.

“What?” said I.

“Three bust we in!” he answered.

“Alright.” I replied and we readied.

Voon started the countdown. “One!…..Two…..Three!” We hammered our shoulders against the door and burst in. Voon tumbled on the floor and recovered. What we saw was horrible!

By God Dracoola was standing tall in black pressing my Moona’s face to his bloody torso! She was drinking from a huge pulsing blue vein that ran diagonally across the Count’s massively hairy chest! His hair was long, curly and dark. His mustache, fully grown! He saw us and released My Moona. Voon jolted forward with a holy cracker held aloft! The Count screamed and lunged - soared is more like it - out the window, turned to mist, and was gone!

I ran to my Moona but fainted half way there.

{______

Dec 11,

By God I have been voming for the past few days from the grief. My Moona! She is unclean! God have pity!

This cannot stand! This will not stand! Me and Voon have decided now is the time! We will hunt and rid the world of Dracoola! It is the only way to cure my Moona.

I will write to my friend Herald, and tell him it is time! God speed!

Letter to Herald F. Frankoonstein. From Charles H. Whistle, (Sent on Dec 11th)

It is time Herald my dear friend! You and I have endured much together my friend! And I would be honored to endure again! We must reunite now. And find and kill The Count! Voon has agreed.

I shall tell you what has happened as of late quickly. Dracoola has found us. He turned Moona’s friend Loocy into a voompire. Voon killed her but the next night Dracoola came again and made my Moona drink his blood whilst I was trying to light a match! She is unclean but in good spirits!

Please do come Herald. By God I thank God for you!

Your friend - Charles.

PS. Tell Sooward to help too. Thanks.

Letter, Herald to Charles, (December 12)

Yes, I will go through Hell and high-water with you my enduring friend!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/13

It is a Winter cold outside.

Dear Herald and Sooward have just arrived to stay with us and help Charles and Voon on this upcoming undertaking. We have hanged the protecting things around the house.

I am in good spirits.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 13,

By God this morning there were eight letters in our mail box! They are all but one from the Count. And the Count’s were all sent on the same day. Yesterday. Four to me, one to my Moona, two to Herald, and one to Voon. I gave them each there letters accordingly, and will write mine below:

The first from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Old Friend Charles,-
Charley, Charley. Oh Charley you can’t hide from me forever in that little house. Come, let me in again. I’ll be nicer. I won’t bite… much.

-D”

{Following the entry}
By God he‘s so charismatic I almost fall for it.

The second from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Friend Charles, -
Damnit. You stupid boy. Let me in, and you and your wife will be swept away! Up to my castle! And then, well… you‘ll just have you find out.”

-D”

{Following the entry}
I shall not fall for his trickery!

The third letter from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Charles my friend,-
It is I, D. I’ll make my scrambled eggs for you Charles!”

{Following the entry}
Oh by God that does sound quite enticing! But I shall resist.

Fourth was from the Town Modeling and Sculpture Art Studio, addressed to me, (Sent on December 12th):

“Dear Sir Charles H. Whistle,
It is our profound pleasure to announce we have decided to include your wonderful wood sculpture of the “Wild Mongoose” in our gallery! We would be honored if you would come and show off your work with visitors and others.

It will be on display starting Jan/2nd, ending Jan/3rd, from 1:00 pm to 1:30 pm closing time.

Sincerely - President of the Town Modeling and Sculpture Art Studio, Rona Winker Riffelroffer”

{Following the entry}
By God I’m thrilled!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/13

My husband Charles gave me this letter this morning. It’s from the Count. Here is what it says:

“My new friend Moona,-
Ah Moona! Moona Whistle you taste so good! Let me taste you all over. I know you can’t resist. I’ll show you my hairy butt-crease!”

-D”

Oh God, I’m going to vom!

Oh what a mess. Nevertheless, I shall stay in good spirits.

Diary of Herald

~December 13~

A letter given to me by Charles, from “Castle Dracoola” to “Herald F. F.”:

“My dear friend Herald,-
I have many-a fine body for you to do great a-many experiments upon!

I’ve got…
Wolves
Deer
Rabbits
Trolls
Mice
Rats
Gerbils
Parrots
Carrots
Ferrets
And 17 women.

Please do remember of my power to lightning them to life with my fingertip!

-D”

His offering is but foolish and useless! I am far ever past the urge to do dealings with the dead again. I only feel to make dead the demon whom sent this message to me.

Another letter addressed to me:

*Blank*

I believe it not! I shall urinate upon the paper to possibly reveal a hidden message! My incident of spilling the tea many months ago on the train to the castle has taught me that there may be a possibility…

It worked! I can barley read of what is written but I suppose it says this:

“Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!

-D”

I remember this phrase! It came from the mist at the hospital last April!
I shall ask Voon sometime of what the inscription may mean.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor thirteen,
I receev letar Kasteel Dracoola from! Heer wat a rad! Balow:

"Friend Abroohoom Voon Helsing,-
You so much as threaten me with your elephantine presences again and I’ll suck you dry!

Yet on the contrary, I have so many a-fine culinary delights to fill your appetite if you would but join me, for at least a day, at my castle.
Up to you!

-D"

I neen hungry for voompire food!

Diary of Dr. Sooward

= Dec. 13

I arrived at Moona and Charles’s house with Herald in the morning. It was a morning of light snow, and heavy fog. We were courteously greeted into their warm home. Once in we all came away upstairs to discuss the plans of attack upon Dracoola’s castle. The room had a circle of four chairs round a fifth. Voon sat in it and the rest of us seated in the rounds. Voon started the lengthy discussion, and we listened closely.

Here is the talk we had as best as my memory can conjure it up…

“Okee.” Voon started. “First off we all need know to kill him, Dracoola! I tell it. Anything wooden work best. Plunge the it into that cold heart!" He finished as he proudly swung his fists into an imaginary Count; fangs and all I presume. Charles was applauding.

“What things can hurt him most if we encounter a brawl before a fatal blow?” Asked I.

“Ha! Very okee question! Very okee.” A small pause, and an intake of breath later he answered.

“Holy water, cracker, stake, kruis, garlic, silver coin, bible, baby, bunny, etcetera, etcetera.”

Charles was applauding again, yet Moona bumped him with her right elbow. He quickly stopped.

“How shall we make our way to the castle?” Asked Herald.

“Separate into two group. I alone. Charles, Herald, and Sooward into another.”

“No, I will go too!” Moona shot up. “Right by my Charley, into the heart of our enemies territory!” Her husband stood up and hugged her, crying some. Which, in turn, sent Moona crying, and then Voon. Leaving only Herald and I dry-eyed. I’m sorry to say, but it was just not that emotional. Yet it sent Voon crying even harder. And he stood up (chair on his rear) and embraced the couple in a monstrous hug.

After the shedding of tears passed, and the three returned to their seats Voon spoke once more:

“I sorry. Moona will come to me to kasteel.”

“I object!” Charles started, and stood up quickly. “She will come beside me!”

Voon’s red face became even more the color. He started arising slowly. Anger was clearly seen building up inside him like a teapot! Poor Charles noticed this and swiftly sat back down. “Never mind,” said he.

Voon returned to his calmer self. “I protect she better than you is why. Neen offence.” He retrieved his pipe. “Any more question?”

Herald answered: “Ah yes! I found a hidden inscription on one of the letters the Count sent to me. It says the same thing that that ghostly fog of sorts that creeped into my hospital window said… ‘Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!’ What does this mean?”

Voon took a long puff of the pipe whilst eye-balling Herald in deep thought. “I know not.” Said he, finally, softly.

“Oh” Said Herald, despaired looking.

“Back to plan!” Said Voon. “We all may meet many evil! Be ready yet not fear. For all of us God in and will never not in. Not even Count him alone take way of what heart hath in, and all in soul and spirit what keep unto all time! Just take around neck a kruis.” And with that he took from a table in the corner 4 crosses, silver, beautiful, lavish, and placed them round our necks. We all at once felt safe from harm of evil!

“What about you?” Asked Moona.

“I have.” Voon answered and protruded a giant ornate golden cross that looked many many years old and used. “I have since I little baby. My mother tell of me that doctor put round neck when born, for I was ugly they said. Yet I hope it helped me grow to handsome man. But lady opinion I need to know for sure.” He ended and turned to Moona for response, smiling some.

“Uh.. I will go make us some dinner!” Said she, and quickly left downstairs to start.

I, Herald, Charles, and Voon waited anxiously for a while. Voon was salivating immensely as the smell of cookings floated its way upon us.

“It’s ready.” She called, and to our surprise, Voon was the first one down!

We fell at once upon potato soup, potato salad, baked sweet potatoes, biscuits, rolls, bagels, buns, croissants, crumpets, English muffins, and turkey-loaf. It was most exquisite!

After we had feasted, Voon held up some type of box for us all to see.

“I not know what these are come from!” He said. And I studied them. Upon the front, was written in an odd text “Ritz”.

“These be holy crackers! Moona. Oh, my God-blessed Moona! Come here me!”

Moona came to him, and he told her to kneel in front of him. She did so.

“In the name of holy one…” He said, as he placed the cracker upon her forehead. The cracker exploded as she screamed and was flung back as smoke puffed all about! Charles ran to her, yet fainted half way there. Voon, coughing on the smoke, was, I believe, asking what happened while Herald and I went to Moona in a fright. She was shaken, but apparently in good spirits and was quickly up cleaning up the supper table. A bright red circular mark shown forth where the cracker was placed.

It took nearly five hours for poor Charles to wake, and he immediately darted to his wife, crying profusely.

Herald F.’s Diary

~December 14~

Voon says we must give a funeral for dear Loocy; who died, I hear, quite appallingly. He has given me word to write a letter to her husband-to-be, Arthuoor. I fear it will greatly dismay him. We are to have the small gathering tonight at 9:00, Voon says. At present, it is around noon. Charles and Sooward now prepare the body as best they can, after retrieving it from the ice-box, are placing it in an ornate casket which Charles has so expertly made out of clay and wood for the past 2 days.

I will now write the letter and then rewrite it here for you all to read…

“ -Dearest Arthuoor

This is Dr. Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein; a good friend of Charles and Moona Whistle. It greaves me greatly to inform you this, and I know not of an easy way to do it.
Your beloved wife are killed.
Please meet at the Whistle house tonight at 9:00.

- Signing off,
H.F.”

I do hope I said it well enough.

I was just informed that Voon Helsing decorated the entire room that the body is in, and that he wants me to critique it. I suppose I will…

---(-)---

As I came away upstairs I smelled wild flowers, and perfumes. Wondrous and calming. I neared the room, and peered in. The rooms walls were covered in red, silk curtains. The ceiling was hung with the same. The windows were hidden behind the curtains so that the only light within came from burning, red candles which were set about on various tables, covered in red cloth. Covering every inch of everywhere else lay scarlet flowers.

The body lay in the center. They have apparently put Moona’s wedding dress on her for looks, I suppose it helped. But the face was covered in dried blood and other incongruous substances. Yet she somehow looked a-peace.
God rest her.

---(-)---

Poor Arthuoor has arrived, and is now knocking on the door. Voon is going to open it. In he walks. Charles looks upon him with shock in his eyes.

Arthuoor is sad and bent… My God he’s bent. His hair is brown, yet with silver streaks. Heavy bags crease under his tired eyes. Thin and so slow he is.

“I know” He says. “I know I appear old and worn. Yet I am but 26! The news of Loocy… aged me it seems.” He ended with a failed smile.

“Matters not!” Voon yells. “Herald, take him forth her!”

---(-)--- in bed

I did.

We creeped up the stairs. His head low and somber. His tattered hands grasping my arms for support. So hunched that he was at my level.

Alas, we reached the room, and he began to inch toward her. Yet he balked away, and came to me sobbing greatly. I held my arms to him. But by God he croaked on the spot. Poor bastard.
I came away downstairs and informed Voon and the others of the happening, and it grieved them greatly.

After a moment of prayers, they disposed of the bodies down the kitchen sink.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 18,

{Morning}
Voon has told us to ready ourselves and get equipped. We are to head for the castle at noon. We have agreed that Moona will fight along side us. What a brave soul!

Voon has made the plan of attack, and the plan of attack is this: We will separate into two groups! Me, Herald, and Sooward in one group, and Voon and Moona in the other. My group will go through the great forest to the castle. Voon and Moona will go up the road! God knows why! At first I was reluctant to this plan, but Voon insisted. We will try to reach the castle at sunset on the seventh day at the same time and reunite. Then, shout for battle!

{Noon}
We are ready, and off!

{Heading through Town}
It is quite cold by God! But the town's beautiful Christmas decorations put my heart at ease some.

{Heading toward the castle road}
We see the road in the distance, and are heading for it.

{A bit later}
We are here. The beginning of the road. Oh God by God the memories! I am shivering. It is snowing hard!

“Time come has us to split!” Yelled Voon proudly over the roar of the onslaught of snow. “Remember what I have tell you! All of you! And neen fire!” he added.

We have split up now. We said our goodbyes and prayers. For the woods we go!

{Hours Later}
We are froze, but still tread!

I think we will rest for a while under the trees. I hope to God that Moona and Voon are alright.

“Can we make a fire?” Herald has said.

“I think not. Voon said It might give us away.” I answer.

I am hungry though.

“We can eat some nuts.” I say.

“Alright.” Herald replies.

“Good!” said Sooward.

By God these nuts are frozen hard! I fear my teeth are going to break. But we shall make dew! … or.. I mean.. make do!

{______

Dec 19,

{Morning}
A day has past us now. Last night wasn’t that bad. But I feel things getting odder by the mile. The snow has slacked off. It is most hard to toilet in this weather.

{Later}
On we tread. We are trying to stay as quiet as possible but we have struck up a few interesting conversations!

{Night}
We have lay to bed now and are hearing strange noises. Strange but familiar to me. I will Sleep.

{______

Dec 20,

{Morning}
I can’t stop thinking of Moona! How afraid she must be! But I trust in Voon to keep her safe! He is a very learned man.

{______

Dec 22,
Two more days of treading on! The toilet sessions harder and harder.

{______

Dec 23,

By God I’m frightened! Whilst we treaded through this old forest we saw many-a-thing! Blurs of running figures! Screams no more than a hundred feet beside us! And as me and Herald endured, we were shocked to find Sooward not with us! God knows what happened. It is a terrible and frightening loss! We try to stay brave but I fear I am becoming a burden to Herald. For just about every time I get a fright I faint or come close to it. And herald has to guard my unconscious body. But I must not let myself faint again! I ask God for the strength for the upcoming battle!

I have to toilet.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor twentiithree,
Late is it. Dark. Me and Madam Moona ar walk on! She stronge as a furied horrse!

Lord! Whirl sneeuw round us now! Winter screem! Obese figures form in sneeuw! Wemon! I arouse but suppress it! They eviil wifves Dracoola! Must be! I bless round me and Moona! We waite fa dawn light! I hold them off! I must hipnotize Moona so won’t she go to wemon! I trance her bigen! I Wave hands my over her head many time. She out-sleep!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 24,

It has became a nightmare! But me and Herald are holding on! We have not had any attack made on us yet. Thank God. We heard strange noises coming seemingly from the road last night. I hope to God Moona isn’t in any trouble, but I fear the opposite. Just at sunrise this morning me and Herald saw three figures dart up into the sky. To much they reminded me of the three women I encountered on both my visits to this awful place. But nevertheless I, and Herald must ready ourselves for whatever may come upon us during this journey.

{Later, dusk}
By God we are one day away from the battle. And I feel I am ready! And Herald tells me he is also. God hath given us strength! I hope the loss of dear Sooward will not weaken us to badly. But you know what? I’m not going to think that way. God speed!

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor twentiifouure,
Dawn came morning this! Wemon fled and we made off! Though fear I they tell Count of us! But that matter neen! God on our side!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 25,

{Morning}
This day has come at last! And it is snowing fairly well. I feel we are close to the castle! Herald and I both recognize certain things that tell us we are near it.

{Later, perhaps noon}
By God it’s quite exhilaratingly frightening! The presence of the place that is! The sky turns greyer the closer we get! And snowier! Howls! Howls of thousands of wolves in the distance! Toward the castle I presume. Screams of ogres maybe I here! Werewolves maybe!

God help us we have made it! Oh I am so terribly afraid. But with brave, strong Herald and his whacking rod here, I feel less fearful.

There the castle stands tall and grey in front of us! Oh dear Lord it’s so…. Well.. it’s standing tall and grey in front of us! And outside the castle, in the courtyard are hundreds of those old chairs!
Where is my Moona?! We shall wait for her and Voon to come, and stay quiet in the bushes.

{Some time later, near dusk}
There they are! We will greet!

I have embraced my Moona and told Voon of Sooward. He was saddened but undeterred. Then he told us of the women and that they might have told the Count we were coming. But it matters not now. We will fight still! And by God now is the time!

Incase I don’t write again, God speed!

We, together, went up in front of the castle, and stood in the road that led to the great door. We looked at each other, and knew it was time.

“DRACOOLA!” Yelled Voon Helsing so tremendously loud I toileted myself greatly.

As I pardoned myself and scooped the toilet matter out of my pants, there was a great noise of squeaking bolts, and unlocking locks coming from the great door. Slowly it opened, and behind it in the gloom stood the tall, dark figure of the Count. And he spoke, he spoke with a voice so horribly calm, loud and echoing, we stopped up our ears and ashuddered.

“Hello.” he said. “So you have decided to come?”

All ashuddered but one! Voon Helsing. And with a great voice he said in return: “Come we you end!”

Silence.

At last the Count spoke. “What?”

“COME WE YOU END!” screamed Voon with that great voice again. And again made me toilet a little.

Silence for quite sometime. The Count standing motionless in the dark doorway. “I’m sorry what in God’s name are you saying?” he said at last.

Voon grew in anger! “AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” he screamed, “DIE!!!!!!” And with that he thundered toward the Count! Stake, and Ritz held aloft!

“Oh.“ said the Count. Then, suddenly, his eyes burst to a huge leaping flame! His Brows, a hot bar of.. well you know! He stepped down from the doorway, stood in front of us, ripped his shirt open, and shown forth his tremendously hairy chest! And with one flash of a swoop, cut open the huge pulsating blue vein that ran across his front, and the blood gushed forth out of it. Spraying and spraying out! Dracoola moaned loudly and longly, and seemed to be in a bliss of sorts, having orgasmic grunts and jerks of sorts. The blood rained down upon us like a summer storm! Oh so much blood, until we were soaked and covered in red! It smelt of bloody, oily cheese! But Voon thundered slowly, but surly on!

The blood flow stopped suddenly as if it had never happened, and the Count flew from where he stood, toward the charging Voon! The collision tremendous! With a great flatulent coming from Voon! Then charged Herald! Then me and my Moona! We met in the midst of battle and pounded on the Count. Voon smashed a bottle of holy water on Dracoola’s face and he screamed in anger. And with one mighty fling, he flung Voon through the air! Herald whacked the Count across the face with his whacking rod and sent him hurling back!

Dracoola turned, his face smoking from the holy water and cut from the whack rod, and with hell-fury in him motioned his arms forward! And out from around the castle came hordes of many-a-evil!

Werewolves, ogres, wolves, goblins, monsters, boogiemen, bats, rats, mice, zombies, cats, worms, mummies, spiders, beasts, brutes, freaks, geeks, monstrosities, behemoths, and leading them all Herald’s monster!

Voon got back on his feet and rejoined us. “Fight we, be no afraid!” he said, and we all charged the evils!

We fought for so long but all felt the strength of the holy ghost in us, and powering us!

We stabbed the werewolves and cut the ogres and shot the wolves and slew the goblins and crushed the monsters and beat the boogiemen and broke the bats and ripped the rats and kicked the mice and obliterated the zombies and killed the cats and stomped the worms and unraveled the mummies and squashed the spiders and slaughtered the beasts and pounded the brutes and destroyed the freaks and scared the geeks and executed the monstrosities and blew away the behemoths! And at last most of our evil-fighting tools were spent. But Herald confronted his monster.

It started with a few well placed whacks with his sturdy rod! I do say it dizzied him some. Yet he came again! Herald stepped aside and whacked his left thigh! It sent his leg a-limp and gave him time for a shot at his face! He quickly stabbed it’s bulging, glowing left eye out, causing it to yell loudly. Herald then swiftly spun-kicked it’s veiny throat, and proceeded that with a few more well-placed whacks to the back of it’s massive head, and at last it fell to it‘s death!

At that the Count stood infuriated! The Flames from his eyes reaching twenty feet at-least up into the air! He screamed terribly and motioned his arms again! And down from the snowy Winter sky came the three obese wives! Horn-rimmed glasses and all!

Forward stepped Voon in front of there path! They slammed him but he did not budge! Instead the three wives came to a dead crash and rolled on the ground. They got up, shook it off, and came at him! Screaming and laughing they fought him. Thrashing and clawing about! But Voon stood his ground and one by one, put a stake through their hearts, and they disintegrated into dirt that smelled of dust! And when he was done he looked at us, then at the Count.

“DIE HIM!!!!” he yelled, and we came at the Count!

“Fools!” screamed the Count! And as we reached him! The Count grabbed up my Moona and flung her down, breaking both her legs horribly! Then grabbed up the fighting Voon, held him aloft, placed his mouth around his, and with a tremendous inhale of breath that was ear shattering, sucked the air out of Voon until he was a shriveled boney figure of the former self! He released him letting his trembling, jerking, quaking, body fall to the ground. Oh Voon, God speed! The Count then turned to dear Herald and made a grab for him! But Herald whacked the groping hand away with his whack rod and whacked the Counts face again and again until the Count fell on his rear!

Enraged, the Count shot up and smote Herald across the body, sending him flying through the air and crashing into a stone courtyard wall! But before the Count turned to me I was so in a fury I grabbed one of the chairs beside me, ran toward the Count holding out the thing, and by God I ran all four chair legs through him! One hitting the heart! As the Count gasped I kept pushing and pushing him back until I ran his back into a wall making the chair legs go deeper into the horrible thing called Dracoola!

And with a long exhale of breath, and a flatulent, Count Dracoola turned to dust, and passed from this world.

I released the chair and came to my Moona. She was hurt but alive. We embraced, and after I came to Herald and was blessed to find him alive. A little shaken, a twisted right leg, and a huge bump on the back of his head, but fine.

We made it. I had to carry my wife and Herald back for five days, but Moona was cured and in good spirits. And Herald wasn’t that heavy. But by God my back may not be right for months. Oh well.

{Night}
I write this now in bed in our home. And have told you of that last act. A doctor is taking care of My Moona and Herald. And all is aright.

God bless Sooward and Voon who lay so costly a sacrifice to rid the world of that evil. And thanks to their sacrifice, it has been. We, have succeeded.

Herald will live with us here, with me and Moona, and I still thank God for him. What a brave and wonderful soul. We will get back to our normal lives. And I suppose me and Moona might have children one day. And that when they grow old, we may tell them of this story. And of our journey.

So now that all is said and done, I must rest. And later make mad love to my Moona.

Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.

---------------------

- Joey and Stefan

The Locked

2008-09-08T19:05:00.006-04:00

The newlyweds spent the first time in their new home. It was quite cosy, but still felt foreign.
The wife Jessy was in the living room looking through an old box of books she found in the basement. Most were dusty and worn. She had to blow the covers off before she could read them. The fifth book she picked up was a maroon colored dairy. On the front cover was written "Jerald P." it was the last owner of the house.
She opened it, and flipped the pages. There was only one entry, it was at the beginning.
She read it aloud to her husband Ron, who was repositioning chairs in the dining room behind her.

__________________

February first, 1995.
It's been about five months now; since I last saw them that is. It's really hard to write this down, for it brings back such an awful feeling. It's like it was a dream. I still question whether it really was or not. But they still bump from time to time just to remind me I was awake.
It was September. It was hard to sleep as I was laying in my bed. The damn place was just too eerie feeling. I thought I heard things in the kitchen. Tapping and stuff. I got up the guts after an hour or so and went out of my room, and started down the hall. The kitchen was just around the right corner. The noises had stopped just as I opened my bedroom door. I flipped on the hall light, and went around not really expecting to see anything. But I did. These three things. I don't even know how to tell you what they looked like. I think they were kind of glowing, or something. Blue maybe. But I do remember what they did. As I was standing there in shock they just scooted down the hallway, and into the basement. God knows why I followed them, but I did. I found them in a wardrobe, I ran over and shut and locked them in.
I never told anyone this, so if you're reading it, just don't open the doors. Keep them locked in there, please.

___________________

Jessy and Ron never did open that wardrobe. And they did hear the bumps.

- Joey

Revisit

2008-08-20T13:12:00.173-04:00

{This is a sequel to Dracoola}

April 19

By God! I am utterly surprised and somewhat delighted. I have received a letter from an anonymous horseman with long flowing black hair not thirty minutes ago. It was addressed to me so I opened it. And here is what it says:

"Dear Charles H. Whistle. It is I, D. I am most sorry for the inconveniences of our earlier meeting. I was very sickly and not behaving as my usual self. Therefor I would love for you to revisit me in my castle. I trust you remember the way. -D

PS. I almost forgot, I would like you to meet someone on the road to my castle. He will be on a train tomorrow. He is also visiting me for the second time. Catch the train and please do befriend him. His name is Herald F. Frankoonstein. A rather short fellow, the only one on the train, I'll make sure of that.

PPS. Oh, and do come on the 25th of this month, thank you."

{______

April 20

I'll recap the last twelve hours.

I awoke to a start. I had a dream last night. That a huge beastly fellow stood over my bed. Horrible looking, sown together I presume. Greenish skin and a fat mans head. He stood there groaning and snorting. And shot off. That's when I awoke.

I got out of bed, toileted, gathered my trappings and made for the long road to the castle. On foot I might add. By God I walked along the train tracks which I had not noticed were right beside the road the previous journey. Maybe they were newly added. I fainted when I heard a howl in the distance.

I awoke on the tracks to the sound of an engine. It was the train! It stopped before running me over, thank the Lord. I got up and walked around to the side door. There a small fellow let me in. Then it came to my attention this kind man was none other than Herald Frankoonstein. I befriended him and told him my name and business there.

I turned and walked out to get my trappings left on the tracks unaware that the train had started moving again. By God did I take a tumble.

I fainted and awoke to a start. I was on a horse, behind a man with long flowing black hair, that smelt like.... like... by God it smelt like OIL! It must have been the driver of my previous journey!

He informed me that we could not catch up to the train, but he would take me to the castle himself. I said thank you and nice to meet you again. He turned his head around and looked at me, to see who I was I'm sure. He grinned wide and said: "Yes, yes, nice to meet you again." By God his eyes were red.

I write this now still on the horse, by candle-light. It is quite jolting. I'm tired, I think I'll sleep.

{______

April 23

Two days ride. On horseback mind you. Faster than last time, but just as terrifying. Wolves again, and ogres I thought. Many times we caught up to the train, but never to the side door. And I thought I heard that small chaps voice. By God. I would awake beside the train, the driver gone, just me and the horse at full speed, then awake later to the driver in front of me again. Covered in blood I thought. Very odd by God.

Something just hit me in the face horribly hard. Something small and shiny I thought. By God I screamed. It put quite a knot on my left cheek I presume.

{______

April 24

This morning was rather pleasant. Birds sang in their nests. The sunlight danced on the leaves and blossoming flowers. We arrived at the castle no more than thirty minutes ago. In-fact no more than ten minutes after the train. That horse was quite amazing, a huge beast of a horse.

Since I am to arrive on the twenty fifth, not today, I will camp in the bushes outside the castle, until tomorrow. I am hungry, and thirsty. If only I had my trappings. Oh well.

{______

April 25

By God, By God, By God! It must be past midnight. I'm in the bushes on the edge of the forest, writing this by candle-light. I hear noises! Grunts! Howls! Snaps! Distant screams! By God I'm frightened. I'm toileting myself!

{Still April 25}

I'm aright. I'm in the castle. I'll tell you what happened.

After finishing my entry earlier I fainted. I awoke later to a start. It was still dark, very. And it was raining, I was soaked. That blasted thing was above me again! Moaning and snorting! It was not a dream. Then that must mean it was not a dream before! By God that thing had been following me! I toileted myself and it shot off!

I lay there trembling and on the verge of fainting, in-fact i did.

I awoke to morning. Grey and cold. Still raining. A letter on my chest, soaked. Here is what it read:

Come in. EAT! -D

So I got up and walked to the great door. It was open oddly enough. I walked in and the smell instantly was remembered. The smell of a toilet. There stood the Count. In a doorway at the entrance to a hall. A way that was closed on my previous stay.

"Ah, hello again!" I said smiling.

"Yes, yes, hello, dear Charles." he answered with an odd grin. "It is so nice to see you again. I'm so glad you came!"

He was wearing the same clothes as before, except no cape, but a black hat. He looked the same as before but this time he had a long grey beard.

I complemented him on the hat, but got no reply.

"Follow!" he said quite loudly, so I obeyed.

We went down the rather small hall. The front door slammed shut behind, then the hall door, the one we had just walked through. I started. We traveled to the very end and went through the left door.

There before my eyes was a great living hall. Two fireplaces burning, three great sofas, tapestries of medieval battles on the walls. And many cases of books. Brilliant!

He led me to the end of this fine room, and through an archway on the left. There was a rather small room and a bed against the opposite wall.

"Your room, sir." Smiled the count. "Toilet and join me in the living hall, just outside your room, of-course."

"Of-course." I said.

I looked around the room, and back toward where the count was standing to ask him something, and he was gone. A quiet walker I presume.

I found a toilet bowl in the corner with some newspapers beside it, and made a hasty one.

After I wiped, I walked back out into the living hall. There, in front of the closest sofa, was a table adorned with freshly prepared food. On the sofa sat the Count.

"Eat." he said gently. He did not.

As I sat on the sofa beside the Count, I studied the fine meal I was about to indulge upon. Scrambled eggs, bacon, a warm freshly baked loaf of bread, boiled eggs, bananas, some sort of pudding for dessert, and a pitcher of water with no glass to pour it into. I ate and the count watched the fireplace. The food was excellent; I said so and he smiled, his eyes never leaving the fire.

When I was done, I said so. He turned away from the fireplace and looked at me.

"lets talk then." he said. So I did.

"Ok. ah yes, there was a question a meant to ask you earlier. If you don't mind me asking, where is that small fellow I met? Frankoonstein."

"Ah yes, he is in his room asleep." The Count answered, then was silent.

"Will I see him again?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"I should hope so." He replied. "Sometime I sure."

I nodded and smiled. "Ok. Why is he here?" I said.

"To help me with something." He answered, and coughed a great cough. It rattled my heart I thought.

"Excuse me" He said. "I'll see you tomorrow. But please, stay here and read until dark. Then bed. I have business with Herald." He got up, and left.

I sit now in bed. I read for eight hours and now am bedding. I do wish this room had a door. I here noises outside the castle. Bumps, moans. I don't know why I came back to this place. Perhaps it's the fabulous eggs. By God.

{______

April 26

It is morning.

Last night went by quicker than I feared. Although I awoke to a start in the middle of the night by a scream, I thought. Inside the castle, somewhere. By God I toileted myself and fell fast asleep.

I awoke to music, classical music, and Opera. It was nice. I got out of bed, toileted, and trotted out into the living hall. The music was coming from the far left corner, on the right side of the room. It was the Count. And by God the music was coming from his mouth! It was wide open but his prominentia laryngea was fiercely jumping up and down. Violins! Drums! By God a woman's voice! I remarked on it and apparently he had not known I was there. He started and screamed. His eyes turned to flame, and his brows turned to a solid bar of iron! It later fell off.

As I write this I'm in a carriage. I believe the same one I ventured in on my first visit to this place a year ago. Dracoola said he would like to give me a tour of his land, so that's what we are doing. It's quite great. The day sky is quite grey but not dark. His land is, well quite dank. Old, dead trees, old, dead grass, stinky bogs, and all around this winding dirt road through the forests are dead things. Seemingly drained of life, holes in their necks. Everywhere is riddled with these corpses of animals, and a few people. By God I can't reason why. I shall ask him.

Ah! He has told me there was a battle recently fought here. Brilliant!

We have aparked at a garden of the most strange flowers. Brown flowers, huge. Brilliant! The Count is eating one.

A werewolf! I had to be! Leaping through the forest. I will tell the Count.

Ah, he said there is no such thing. I am at ease now.

Although this journey through the Count's land is quite fascinating, i fear I am falling fast asleep.

I just awoke from a long slumber. I'm still in the carriage, but the Count is gone! Just me and the horses. Wait... There is a note on my lap. I'll open it... Here is what it says:

I forgot to do something back at my castle. Please, finish the ride, the horses know where to go. -D

I am at ease. I will finish the tour.

Three hours has gone by. No end to this ride has come about.

Three more hours. It's getting dark. By God when does this end?!

By God! That blasted werewolf again! Running through the forest! Great and hairy, long black flowing hair! Yellow eyes! Huge teeth! A trail of glistening spit streaming out of it's mouth, flowing behind it like some sort of strange scarf. I am frightened. Ah! I see the castle! Thank you Lord! We are nearing it. The werewolf, where is it?! It doesn't matter, I'm running for the castle. Here I go. God speed.

I made it. I'm in the living hall connected to my room. It's been four hours since I last wrote. I'll tell you what took place.

As I ran for the great door I glanced back behind me, by God the werewolf was hot on my trail. I reached the door, but by God it was locked! I was in panic. Not knowing where to go I shot off left, running as fast as I could around to the left side of the castle. I glanced back, the werewolf was still hot on me, but rather far away, and slower than i thought. I reached a regular sized door, and tried to open it. It too was locked, but I hadn't the strength to run any longer. In a last desperate attempt I banged on the door, screaming: "Let me in! Help! Let me in!" And by God the door swung open, and I ran in and flung myself down on the hard floor.

And by God the fellow that let me in was Herald! Herald Frankoostein!

He slammed the door shut, locked it, and turned to me. Concern and surprise on his face.

My heart was pounding, I had to toilet badly. But by God, it gladdened my heart to see him.

"Thank you Herald!" I said, sprawled on the floor.

"You alright?" he said, I could tell he was happy to see me.

"Yes, thanks to you. A werewolf was hot on me."

He helped me up and we talked for a while. He told me he was here to help the Count turn corpses right again, or something of that manner. I told him I was here for the second time because my first visit here was unpleasant, and the Count wanted to make up for it. We then parted our ways.

I somehow found my way back to the main entrance and was greeted by the Count. He was holding a large bowl of scrambled eggs. I salivated.

"How was your ride, Charlie?" he asked.

"Rather long but rather fascinating." I answered. "Ah yes, I was chased by a werewolf! I would have been surly eaten if it wasn't for kind Herald. He let me in and saved my life."

"Charlie, Charlie, there is no such thing as a werewolf." he said calmly, convincingly. I almost believed him but snapped out of the foolishness.

"No, no, your wrong!" It was a werewolf! It was right there, I saw it! It chased me!" I yelled. by God I think that was the first time I've ever raised my voice to the Count.

He looked rather angry. Then very angry! He grew in height! His eyes turned to flame! His brows, to a solid bar of hot iron! He threw the bowl of eggs into the wall, shattering it, eggs flying everywhere, then he screamed, it was terrible. "CHARLES! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WEREWOLF!"

I toileted myself and fainted.

I later awoke where I sit now. On this sofa, next to the burning fire. I will bed now. I am exhausted.

{______

April 27

It is morning, I slept through the night peacefully. I am on a sofa again. I do hope the Count is not angry still. When I see him I will ask to be forgiven. I do forgive him.

Here he comes with my breakfast. It looks to be a bowl of spaghetti. Mmmmm.

I just told him I was sorry and that I forgive him. But he said he didn't know what I was talking about, and left. Most strange. I will eat.

By God I am poisoned! The noodles! It must have been the noodles, or the sauce on them! I am fainting.

Oh no, by God, oh no! I just awoke. I am on the top of a horribly high tower! By God what is happening? I'm strapped down to a table! My hands are barely free enough to write this. A wind! The Count is here.

"What are you doing?!" I yell.

"I'm feeding you to my wives." he said.

Oh my God! I see them flying toward me in the distant sky! By God! I have met my doom! No, wait! The cross on my neck! The cross I always draw there with a quill! It saved me before I think. It will save me again. I will show it forth!

I ripped off my collar! It's working! By God they are all repelled! Even the Count! I am unstrapping myself!

I'm freed from the table! I'm going to go for it! I'm going to leave this place once and for all! God speed.

I made it past them and down many flights of stairs and many halls. I am writing this as I run through the castle. I don't believe they are chasing me.

I'm at the great door!

I through the lock back, opened it, and ran out! The carriage, it's straight ahead. I will jump in!

I'm in! "Ya!" I yell to the horses. "Ya!" It's working! They are running down the road! I made it out! Thank God!

By god! That small fellow just crashed through the roof of this carriage and onto the seat beside me! He is unconscious but alive! I will take him to town, and to the hospital. God speed horses! What amazing beasts!

- Stefan

The letter.

2008-08-19T11:27:00.068-04:00

{This is a sequel to Frankoonstein}

April 20
Hello again, my diary. I have received a fair letter in the morning of this fine day. It reads as follows:

"Greetings, my good friend. We seem to have had the most inappropriate of meetings in the month of February. I know not whether you remember it or not, therefore I will remind you, and give you an accounting of my intentions.
When you came into my castle, you see, I mistook you for a pig. I know not whether you enjoy fresh, uncooked swine or not, but I most certainly do. And in the rush of excitement I couldn't help but feast upon you. I only noticed that your were human when you sent a cool wave of water upon me. I am most sorry.
Perhaps we can reunite back at my castle, to get acquainted with one another. See you then.

PS. Take the evening train. There will be a kindly chap there to greet you. Befriend him, I bid you.

- D"

I shall go, I presume; however, I find it strange that this letter has no return address. Luckily I have a fine memory, and know just where to find that castle, and I will take the letter along with me also. I do not have a memory of this "Evening train", but I think I do hear it! I will pack my belongings and report back when I am on the ride, if I find it.

--- (-)---

Odd, very! I am sitting on this train as the sky fades, and just a moment ago an odd thing happened.
I was drinking a glass of cold tea when the train hit a rut, and bounced like a bunny, sending my drink all over me. It missed my diary, thank heavens, but struck my letter from D. And slowly a hidden inscription was out-stood! It reads as follows:

"" In high demand, the red foot will land! - D"

I am most confused and frightened. Maybe he will explain it to me when I reach him.

---(-)---

I think.. no.. nope. Never mind.

---(-)---

Yes, do mind! My monster just ran by the train, headed the other way! Unless my mind is leaving!

---(-)---

No sign of anything now. Too dark to see anything outside. I have now realized I am the only person aboard this train. This is most odd, and frightening. The noise of the train is the only thing to hear; and the rushing of wind out my huge window... and maybe.. fast footsteps?! I will look out now, and investigate the sound.. I saw something, a figure, something tall; a horse and a rider, I think. The rider has long flowing hair, I think.

---(-)---

The running sounds are gone now, my train has stopped. All is still dark. I will await the instructions of the driver. Here he comes now. Wait.. this is not the driver. It is a rather tall fellow. I shall greet him.
How strange. He tells me his name is Whistle, and that he has also received a letter from D. He too carries a diary.. though his is much fairer to look upon. He says he will meet D upon the 25th. I will meet him first, i presume. Ah, he tells me that D's full name is Count Dracoola. Amazing.
Hmm... I turn my head to talk more and the man is gone. Very odd.

---(-)---

The driver has informed me that the train had stalled for a small while, tough we are running now; faster than ever! Wow.
That driver was an oddly man. Tall he was, and his head of hair was intimidating to say the least!
I believe it has to be past midnight, therefore I shall start a new entry.

April 21
Wolves, I hear. Many of them.

---(-)---

I have awoke to another fine morning, very foggy though. On we tread! Though I have not heard nor seen any sign of Whistle. I will pray for him.
I should have told him about the hidden inscription! Damn! I do hope he finds his, if he has one on his letter also.
... I hear those blasted footsteps once more! I will scream out my window at them, for it is too foggy to see. "Leave me, you rat!". They have stopped. I laid it to him I did.

---(-)---

What is this? A small item I have found laying beside me, odd. Looks like a small glass globe filled with blue smoke. It rather, if I do say so myself, smells like a half ripe blueberry! I do love blueberries! I think I'll keep it in my luggage.
The wind coming through the open window is quite chill. I want to roll it up yet I cannot seem to find the knob to do so. "Driver!" I yell... nothing. "Driver!"... nothing. I do believe I have to get up and go to him. I shall try.

---(-)---

Very odd. As I approached the drivers compartment I heard the most God awful sounds of slurping and gargling. I through open the door and I found the driver covered in blood I did! And under him was a fair lady. I was shaken, yet I asked him what he was doing. His answer sounded truthful enough, and here it was:

"You see, my friend, this poor laddie is chocking on a grape. I simply am preforming CPR upon her. Now leave me to finish!"

And leave him I did. That brave fellow!

---(-)---

Not much has happened these past 5 or so hours. I have just been watching the day awake out my window. I am quite hungry. I believe I have forgotten to pack food, I will check by bags.
I found myself a loaf of bread! I am eating my 6th slice! I have no beverage, I will ask the driver if any refreshments are on board.

---(-)---

I cannot seem to find him! All I found was blood all over the place!
... I hear thumpings above me, I will look out my window. Nothing, I am afraid. Yet.. maybe I did see something.

---(-)---

It is passing into night now. I still await any sign of the driver. I do believe I have never wanted water more than now. I will try to bed upon this unexpectedly soft seat.

April 22
Ah! The driver is on board again! He gave me great food and drink! Along with gracious letters from the Count. Here is how they read:

"Greetings again my friend! I have sent to you the most scrumptious of meats, bread, and drink. Please do enjoy. -D"

"How nice a day it is! I am steadily awaiting your arrival! -D"

"I do hope you found the meeting of sir Charles H. Whistle delighting. He is a great man. I will be meeting him after I meet you, if he forgot to mention it.
Oh! and If you don't mind, I would enjoy it if you discard of any mirrors you may have brought upon your journey. You see, I have recently installed many great burning lamps in my castle, and they would burn your eyes if caught in a shiny surface. Thank you, and see you soon! -D"

I do say that the wine was a bit bitter though. My 12 mirrors I have tossed from the train! I do think I heard a yell as they flew away... Oh well... As my father used to say: "Dammed stupid is a man of many mirrors!"

April23
The past day was very pleasing. I watched the landscape pass out my window with glee. It is full of old run-down farm land, though I have not seen a soul. The air seems to be getting darker, if that makes any sense. I have enough food and drink here to last many-a-train rides.
Oh, before I forget, the driver is gone again.

---(-)---

At last, the train has stopped! I have been having to use the bathroom out my window! But at last I might can use a normal one again. The driver is calling me out, I will write back as soon as possible.

---(-)---

The train had actually stopped beside the castle, and even more odd was that the tracks ended there! The driver, not saying a word, escorted me to a side entrance, and was gone. He carried my belongings all in one hand! Strong he was, I say.
I do not know why, but as I sit here in the cold dirt writing, I have an odd feeling that someone is directly behind me looking around a bend in the wall! I will look... nothing.

---(-)---

Good heavens, I believe I saw a troll just then. Odd. It is very dark now.

---(-)---

Ah! the door opens! I presume I should walk in, no one is here to greet me. The smell of this place rushed out at me like a great memory!

---(-)---

I am now in a bedroom with a very nice bathroom made of all gold I presume. All I found was a letter lying on the floor. Here is how it read:

"There is a small, yet cozy bedroom on your left. Go into it and lock the door behind you quickly. -D"

I did! And as I shut the door I saw a ghastly figure charging at me from a great distance! It was in a long dark hallway straight ahead of me. That was horrid! It reminded me of that blasted creature I had made!
Oh no! I just turned the letter over, and here is what I read!:

"PS: Be sure to shut the entrance door also! -D"

I will not! I shall sleep instead!

---(-)---

Knockings and scrapings upon my door have jolted me awake! "Hello?" I say. No answer. I am going to ignore it and go back to sleep.

April24
This day was most odd. When I awoke it was just beginning morning. I used the golden bathroom and went out of my room. The entrance door was shut, very odd, I thought. And before my feet laid another letter. I opened it swiftly and read:

"I do hope you slept keenly. I noticed you didn't shut the door, so I did it for you. Only seven horrible creatures slipped in during the few hours it was open, and they are now very dead.
Please do meet me in the living hall. Follow the red chairs. -D"

I did so through many rooms and halls. Some very worn and terrifying. Others extremely pleasing, yet not! When I reached the living hall I saw that it was very vast. Some 200 feet across at longest length I guess!
There he stood. Seeming old and worn. As much a part of the house as the statues along the walls. As if many Autumns had wizened him with great knowledge; ancient secrets seemed to be hidden in his thoughts, yet he also seemed quite stupid as well. An odd taste was ever present in my mouth as a stared at him! Many hours I looked upon his red-brown eyes. Then alas, he spoke. So loud and startling it was, that I laid him out with a swift blow to the cranium! (I used a long rod which I keep folded in my back pocket.)
I stared down at him for a short while. He was wearing a voluminous crushed blue velvet robe, and blue gloves. As I was pandering at his fine garments he shot up, no, more like flew up! Some 20 feet I presume, and fell back to the floor, yet landed with only the sound of a small foot-step.
It's very odd now that I think back, what he said to me then...
"You see, my robes let me glide like a feather."
Over the next hour or so I asked him many questions, and he answered them swiftly and calmly. Then at last I told him about the hidden message on my first letter I received from him. I do say, his face turned a gray color. Yet he answered...
"Ah, my friend. I have a pesky helper named Grojoft. He enjoys doing those type of things. He must have snuck into my study and scribbled that inscription. I assure you, it means almost nothing."
I was relieved. Then I asked him the most obvious question...
"Why did you ask me to come here?"
He answered swiftly and calmly...
"I want you to meet a dear friend."
At that he screamed so loud that I thought I heard glass break nine floors above!
"Aaarradal!"
By God in walked a man which can hardly be described by words! He was bent, and crooked. His eyes were sagging; his nose, lofty; his arms were short and thick. I was frightened still! Though to my relief the man dropped dead within 3 feet toward me. Poor bastard.
"This is why I need you!" Said the Count. "My creations keep dying on me. Yours continued to live!"
The memories rocketed back into my head of that awful being. The green shining skin! The bald fat head! The height of that buggered! But I quickly calmed and agreed to help him.
He led me down many dark cold tunnels lined with small burning torches. The passages were so small that Dracoola was bent down near my level. His robes were touching the flames yet did not alight! He stopped abruptly and turned.
"These were the burning lamps I mentioned in one of my letters." he said to me, and was off again.
I think I followed him for 10 leagues.
Alas we entered a small room. On a table in the middle was the body of a woman. She was most definitely dead I could tell. He turned to me once more.
"Bring her to life please." He said.
"I'll see what I can do." I answered. And the Count left me with the body. I labored on it for what seemed like days! Then I heard scooting sounds coming from the tunnels. The Count! was my first thought. But no... The sounds were too slow for him. I hid in a cabinet, the door I left slightly open. After a minute or so it walked in. It blew out the 4 candles I was working by. My heart was jumping to my neck. It huffed and puffed. Growled and groaned. Sniffed and Piffed.
Then walked away, back down the tunnels. I screamed for the Count out of cold fear. Suddenly a hard wind swept through the room from down the tunnel! And the Count was there! A bright lamp held in a strong grip.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Someone came in here and blew out my candles!" I answered in one breath.
"Ah, don't worry! It was only Grojoft! The helper I mentioned earlier. Come, I will carry you to bed. You have done well."
And with that, he took me in his arms, and swiftly breezed away into my bedroom, and laid me down. I am now writing this as I bathe. So, if you don't mind.

April 25
It is morning, and raining. The clouds block out the sun so that all is gloomy and gray. Lighting I see in the far distance. Yet thunder is unheard. I sit by a high window awaiting the count. I am 4 floors above my bedroom; a letter by the Count told me to come here. He said he would meet me in no more than an hour. I have been watching an old clock for 45 minutes I presume.
Ah! I hear him coming.

---(-)---

He said he will bring me the body of the woman I was working on yesterday. I told him that I need electricity to run through her corpse. He said not to worry, and was off. I can tell you, I am most worried.

---(-)---

He has returned. I ask him for the electricity.
My God, he stuck his finger on her wrist and lighting shot out in many bolts! I think his eyes are flaming! His eyebrows turn to a flaming bar of iron! It just fell off.
The body is not alive. She is burned to a crispy crisp! I fear the count is angry at me. His face is as red as cherries. He turned with a huff and left.

April26
I am in my bedroom now, it is turning night. This past day was most boring. I journeyed long through the long castle. So many locked doors. The Count was nowhere.
I now hear strange sounds coming to the entrance door outside my room. A man yelling. Roaring of some unnamed beast! Now the man bangs upon the door, screaming! I will go to his aid!

---(-)---

What a fine surprise! It was Charles Whistle! I asked him what all the ruckus was about. He answered in harsh breaths.
"I am chased by a werewolf!"
I do say, I believe him. I greeted him, and likewise. I told him some of my business, and he told me that he is revisiting the Count due to an unmannerly first meeting. Then we gave best our wishes and parted.

---(-)---

I will use the bathroom and go to bed. It is quite late now I presume. I only guess because I do not have a clock in here. Wait, I do believe I may have brought one with me. I will check my luggage. I think I hear the most awful screaming of words! It sounds like the Count.
Upon my scramblings I found that odd blue smoke-filled globe. how did I forget about it?!
Tomorrow I will ask the Count about it. Until then I will set it on my nightstand.

April27
A have just awoke to find the globe gone! Who did this?! My door is locked tight! I must find the Count! I am going outside my room.
"Count Dracoola!" I yell.
A cold wind is rising. Faster it comes! The Count is here!
"Yes?" He says. Oh Lord, he looks so young! barley out of his 20's! His hair is healthy and dark!
I remark upon this oddity. He answers.
"My friend, I am like fine wine, or cheese! The older the better. Now what do you need?"
I will tell him about the globe.
He looks most bewildered.
"I know nothing of what you speak." He says. "I will bring you another body to reanimate!"
He just left.

---(-)---

He is back, holding another lady. He lays her down on a table, with some medical tools.
"Now, I will leave you to work." He says and is off.
I am tired of this! I will make it to where the body comes alive and goes after the Count! Bastard!

---(-)---

I am covered in body fluids, yet I am done! The body jolted alive when I shot a spark into it with a lamp cord. She destroyed the table she was lying on into a thousand pieces! Her skin glows yellow! Her eyes are burning with rage! She sniffs for the Count and is running through the castle. Time for your doom Count! Ha ha!

---(-)---

It has been 20 minutes. Two times I have heard my creation run past my bedroom door. Now she has stopped. I will investigate.
Oh heavens! The Count his holding her aloft in his left hand! His eyes are flaming! His eyebrows are a hot bar of iron! Ah!! He screamed into her head and she exploded!
"So you try to deceive me?" He says. "You will be PUNISHED!"
His voice is horrible and booming!
He is carrying me somewhere!
"Help!" I yell. "Help!" Nothing.

---(-)---

With his cunning strength he tossed me from the castle roof. I write now as I fall. So long fair world. Now I go to God!

- Joey

Room

2008-06-20T21:56:00.001-04:00

In a large building, or room. Glass roof. Raining outside. Sitting at a table, he began looking at the men around him. Four men at the small square table, one on each side.

The man in front of him was quite old, maybe 55, he guessed, with a graying beard and a cap. The man to his left was maybe 30, rather normal looking, also wearing a cap. The man to his right, a bald man, middle-aged, big grey eyes.

The room was full of people, all sitting at tables just like his. In the middle of the huge room was a long walkway, extending from the wall beside him to the entrance door at the far end. (From the doors perspective) he was in the far left corner of the room, around 2 or 3 tables away from the walkway.

Guns on the tables, and guns leaned against the tables. He had a rifle of some type beside him, and a large revolver sitting on the table, silver.

He looked up at the glass ceiling, rain splattered and tapped on it, the sound was somewhat calming to him. The sky was a wall of grey clouds- close and terrifying, especially in these circumstances, and in knowledge of what is to come. It’s all so odd, so surreal, he thought, like a dream, just like one.

A distant rumble. Thunder, is it thunder? He wandered, but it was coming at him, like the earthquake he had experienced when he was 7. Good times, he thought.

As the rumble neared he readied himself, as did most of the men around him. It came into view, the vast menacing ship. Deep grey, with purple lights like glowing eyes that could see fear. His stomach tightened like a knot, it was coming. Another ship, smaller, but the same design. He heard, and felt them land.

The doors at the far end of the walkway opened, then shut before he had time to look. Walking down the path was a tall one. Queen, he thought, or something like one. It’s head was normal sized, but a little bigger. The rest of it was covered in layers of robes and other things which this language has no names for.

He watched it walk, no, more like glide down toward him. Everyone watching, silent. It made it to the end of the way and stared at the wall, and spoke.
Words that were not English but echoed in side him with perfect sense. They were only senses of war.

The doors bust open, they were quick, so quick. One of them hurried at him, and bit the man to his left, and carried him off. He jumped up with a startled chirpy yell. He reached for the revolver, got it, he backed up into the wall, beside something to his left, a dresser, or… he couldn’t tell, didn’t care to tell.

Load pops, like huge fire-crackers on a fourth of July party. Two of them were now staring at him, he was so mindless and shocked he didn’t notice what they looked like, didn’t care. He raised his quivering arm a pulled the trigger, pop! Blood exploded out the chest of the thing like in the B movies. He aimed at the second one, pop! Same blood effect.

[Authors note] - This was a slightly dramatized version of a dream I had which ended here, sorry.

- Joey

Frankoonstein

2008-06-12T19:37:00.012-04:00

(Another comedy version of an old classic, though I haven't read it. Stefan and I did read Dracula [Dracoola], but only the first chapter.)

Feb.1
My Lord, abide by my shaking body in this damp dark corner. My name is Dr. Herald F. Frankoonstein. I luckily kept this dairy in my pocket through the long travels I have just endured. My Lord, I am chased into an odd place full of mostly broken chairs. They are covered in most excellent etchings, I do say, if I may, that they look nearly Asian, though I know not what Asian things look like. I will stop writing now, and let you indulge on my previous writings to inform you what I have endured. My Lord God my Father.

-----------------------------------------------

Jan.29
Maybe, just maybe I have figured it out! Could it be? When lightning strikes a man, or monster, does it revive him to life?..

Jan.30
I am afraid I gathered some spare human body parts form a war-zone just outside my house today as it was burning to the ground. It burned like a cotton ball.

Just a moment ago I assembled the parts into a man! My Lord! I will now attempt to strike him with lighting and then report to you how it went.

Not well. The body at first was a lifeless mass of different sized arms and other things. When I sent a lightning bolt through it it simply exploded, my entire laboratory is covered in blow-up. It smelled like a bowl of rotten rot.

After a laborious 2 hours I have gathered more spare parts and they all amazingly are equal in size. I have sewed them together and they seem to be perfectly fit for each other, except for the head, which is of an oddly oldly bald fat man. I shall now send a less-powerful lightning bolt through him and, once again, report to you how it transpired.

Oh Lord!! It worked!! HELP ME!!! When he, or it stood up it reached the ceiling, which is some 7 feet high, and was still bent to a great degree! It's skin was of a light green, glowing, no, shining! It saw me, and, scared like a horse, darted out and was gone. My heart is as a speeding train on bumpy tracks.

Jan.31
My mind is leaving. It has hunted me for such a great time. Luckily I am a small man and can hide in places most others can't, especially this 10 foot tall thing chasing me. There are rats galore in here. It smells of a dead rotten bowl of stench.

I see a castle upon the glowing horizon. I will head for it.

Feb.2
He is in the castle with me now! "HELP!" I scream, "HELP!" There is no one but this brute to heed my frantic words. I am armed with a pale blade, some 8 inches long I say. It shines like fire, or ice, whatever you prefer.

Who is that!? A man in a huge yellow cape, and flowing curling black hair. He is holding my monster aloft and seems to be drinking it! I shall wait, watch and tell you what happens, if I may.

Feb.3
I write this now in my own blood, whilst this horror of a man feeds on my dieing, small body.

So long fair world. Now I go to God.

Mar.10
I forgot to mention that I made it out alive when I found a pot of water by my side, and in throwing it on the man eating me, it seeped into deep wounds that were all over his groping body. He screamed as a lady and was gone.
I thank the Lord.

-Joey

Dracoola

2008-05-06T10:22:00.179-04:00

(This is a comedy version of the beginning of the book Dracula, so get your laughing caps on.)

This was written in a series of journal entries from Charles H. Whistle, an Englishman.

March 3

Dear my dearly beloved journal,

I've just experienced what has to be the strangest most awkward thing I've ever experienced. I was to meet a driver and his carriage just outside of town on a lone, dark, road, at 10:30 at night.

And be taken to a castle far up in the mountains.

I did, the horses were two, each at least eleven feet in height, snarling beasts. And the driver... Long black, curly hair that flowed in the wind with the slightest a breeze. It was long indeed, down to his feet. His eyes were glowing red! I became frighted and jumped in the carriage of all places. That's when I must have fell asleep.

I awoke to a start. I was on a dark road, winding through the woods. The driver was thrashing the thongs of the horses wildly, we were moving at a great speed, I'd say 90 kilometers an hour perhaps. It was quite exhilarating. The carriage was bouncing about tremendously.

That's when I noticed them. Wolves! At least a hundred, seven feet in height. Growling beasts.

I fell asleep again.

When I awoke the carriage was aparked. But I was not at all near any castle I could tell. But the driver was gone! I became frightened and fell asleep.

I awoke again to the carriage going at great speed. But now the driver was sitting beside be. Thrashing the thongs, a frustrated calmness in his eyes. They were still red, but faint embers compared to before. And his hair seemed to have tremendously grown. Flowing, black, curly, all about, inside and outside the carriage. In my face, and wreathed about my body. It smelt of oil. After a while the driver went back to his driver's seat. I quickly fell asleep.

I awoke, the carriage still going at great speed, but the driver was gone, or though I thought. But then I heard bumping on the roof of the carriage, and peeked my head up. He was on the roof, thrashing, bouncing. I lay back down, and fell asleep.

I sit here now in the carriage writing this down by a lantern light. Still in the carriage, going at great speed. The driver in his seat. I'm going to go to sleep now.

March 4

Dearly beloved journal,

It is morning now. Still in the carriage. going at great speed. The drivers hair is still flowing. It's quite beautiful, the morning I mean. Misty, cold. I am quite nervous right now. We are on the edge of a sheer cliff. To our right.. drop, to our left.. rock wall. No more than ten feet of riding space. It's quite exhilarating.

It's now mid-day, still riding up the mountains. It's quite exhilarating.

Night again. Wolves. Thousands of them! On our tail. Chasing us. God speed.

March 5

It's just past midnight, I'm writing by moonlight, it's quite bright actually, the moon that is. The driver hasn't slept yet, not to my knowledge. I was just awoke by a cry, in the woods to our left, wolves perhaps. I'm frightened stiff. I'm going to try to go back to sleep now.

March 9

Six days of riding, at full speed mind you. I feel like I haven't eaten in days.

March 11

Dear journal,

By God! The next morning I awoke to a start. A huge castle in front of my eyes, into the heavens it towered. Quite amazing. The driver was standing outside the carriage door. It gave me a start. He reached his hand out, I took it, it was cold and slimy, and strong. He helped me out. I carried my trappings to the great door. Black it was, tall it was, huge iron nails drove deep into it's hard wood, thousands upon thousands of nails. A thousand million perhaps. Quite amazing.

The driver shot off around the bend. At great speed, hair flowing outside the carriage. Except that's when I noticed that the two horses were no longer, just two little mules.

I knocked on the vast doors. A great clash and echo followed each bang. It hurt my hand. Then silence. No one came. I lay down and fell asleep.

I awoke and toileted in a nearby bush. And quickly fell back asleep.

I repeated the process for three days. Then, finally, I might add, the door crashed open. Inward. And in the vast darkness there dwelled a man, tall, near seven feet. Clad in all black, not a single speck of color besides black, save for a long, flowing, yellow silk cape. He had a long mustache, white and black, it reached the floor and drug. He occasionally stepped on it, stumbling. His hair was also white and black, curly like the driver's, yet not as long.

Anyway, he jestered me in and froze. For the longest time he stood there frozen, an hour or two. I fell asleep quickly and awoke. I went in and he lunged at me, flew is more like it, I struck his face. He whimpered. He protruded his hand for a shake. I took it. It was far cold, like the driver's. And slimy. And strong. In-fact my hand bones popped, twice. I grimaced, he smiled and squeezed harder... my hand exploded. It was quite painful.

"I am Dracoola," said Dracoola, "count Dracoola," he added, in an excellent thick British accent, "Come and go as you like, go and come as you like."

"I am Whistle" I said, peeing my pants.

"Come with me." Dracoola ordered, and his mustache seemed to shrink as he said the words.

He led me through the large entrance room, huge animals on the walls, dead of course. The likes of which I had never seen. Great beasts. The rug beneath my feet was red and black, expertly woven. The furniture, all chairs, thousands of dark wooden chairs. God knows how old everything was, hundreds of years perhaps. The whole place smelled of a toilet.

We ascended a large staircase and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall, and another staircase, and another hall. All lined with the same type of chairs. I complemented him on the beautiful draperies, he didn't answer. Quite odd the journey was, for every time I looked away, and then back at him again, the further away he became, and I had to catch up.

He led me down the last hall, and took a left, and a left, and another left, through three rooms, all empty, save for four or five chairs against the walls, all broken and worn, until we were back in the hall. Then he led me right, and another right, and stopped in the second room.

"I bid you..." the count said while turning round, "please, go where you like in this castle, except for the three thousand, million, billion rooms that have the "please do not enter" signs nailed to them."

"Understood." I agreed.

We took off again. He led me right, and then back into the long hallway. Then down the hall, almost to the end, and his cape snagged on one of the chairs, and it ripped, he stumbled and recovered. His hair grew a little I thought.

We reached the destination through a door on the left three doors away from the end of the hall, which was a dead-end. Good heavens, I fainted.

I awoke a few seconds later, and came to my senses. We were in a large dining room. A very long table lined with the same chairs. And an excellent dinner awaiting my slobbering mouth. Poached eggs, scrambles eggs, fried eggs, baked eggs, and water.

He showed me my room, it was through a door and then another, and told me to make a hasty toilet, and then come back and eat. I took a huge, loud, prolonged toilet, and feared the count would be angry with me.

"I bid you, eat!" the count demanded, as he set down in one of the chairs. He did not eat.

I set opposite of him and began to gobble. And as I did, I got a chance of observing him.

His forehead was monstrous and domed, thin blue veins running every which way through it. His nose was very small and thin. His eye-brows were bushy and curly. His chin was pronounced and strong. His hair was indeed curly, and seemed to curl in it's own profusion, and curl more after that. His hands were very broad but his fingers, good God they were, well normal, but with long, glistening, sharpened finger nails. His ears were skinny, very skinny, and white and pointed. As far as I could see under his large mustache, his canine teeth were long and yellow, and sharp, coming well over his lower lips. And as strange as it may seem, there were long, curly, skinny hairs coming out of his palms, very curly, curling in their on profusion, and more after that. The whole effect was one of extreme weirdness.

After I finished my meal, me and the count sat in front of the burning fireplace and talked about my beloved homeland until morning came. The count desperately wanted to live there. In fact everytime I mentioned the name England or London he salivated, I thought.

And then I heard it..... wolves! Thousands upon thousand of them! Howling. I quivered in my seat and the counts eyes darted over to me and he spoke.

"Ahhhhhhhh........... Ahhhh..... Ah... Listen to them.......... ch ch ch children of the night...... what howling they mmmmake."

I fainted and awoke a few hours ago in my bed. I am writing this now by candle light and am about to bed. Good night good heavens.

March 13

I awoke this evening to a cold breakfast of sausage links and a note on the table, here is what it read, close enough anyway...

"I am going out. EAT!" -D

When he returned his whole face was covered in a red liquid. I asked him what it was and he started, and told me it was fresh milk, and darted to his room.

Later that night I was shaving my thickly grown beard in a tiny mirror I had brought in my trappings. I felt a hand lay on my shoulder even though there was no reflection of anything in my tiny mirror behind me, I tremendously jerked and screamed aloud, and deeply slit my throat. I swiftly turned and found the count standing there. I held my throat as gushing blood poured through my fingers and spat on the floor. By God I thought I had killed myself. The count lurched forward and was repelled by what seemed to be my tiny cross I had drawn on my neck with a quill since I was young. He grabbed my mirror and thrust in out the window, I saw it glimmer into the night sky like a star, far far away.

Later I abandaged myself.

March 14

By God, by God, by God! I surely must have been dreaming! By God I swear I saw Count Dracoola crawling on the rocky side of the castle out my window! Ahhhhhhhh! Good heavens I fainted!

March 16

I write now having experienced the most awfully disturbing thing that has ever happened to me. Two days ago I awoke to another cold breakfast of zucchini, raw actually, and another note...

"EAT!" -D

By God when he came back he had little wings on his back! I mentioned it to him and he said he fell on a chicken, and some feathers must have clung to him. I'm not sure I believe him, though his story does indeed sound plausible.

The next day when the count was out I wondered to a high room that did not have a sign on it. It was already opened. I walked in and found a magnificent view of the mountains through a rather large window. There was a couch so I quickly beded and fell fast asleep.

What happened next I thought was a dream. And it was as if I couldn't move. Things, in the distance, in front of the moon! Little dark spots like balls in flight. As they approached the window I soon discovered they were women!!!! They floated through the window.... well, actually burst through is better. One didn't make it through and plummeted to her demise I presume. The others lay sprawled on the floor. One of the three was unconscious.

They all were obese. Red eyes! Huge red lips seemingly about to burst. All had on white night gowns. One had terrible horn-rimmed glasses, I thought. A blonde bent over me and was about to 'suck me' somewhere, I heard her say to the conscious one. I was quite aroused actually.

Then I felt it, the counts hairy presence. He slapped the blonde across the room and out the window. I glanced up at him as he held the conscious one by the throat. His eyes, on fire! Flames reaching the ceiling! His hair, massively long and fiercely blowing! And his eyebrows, by God the were like a hot bar of metal on his forehead... it fell off when he calmed down a little.

"He is mine!" he snarled like a drooling dog.

The woman laughed like a man.

"I give you a baby!" he grabbed what was clearly a doll out of his clothing and through it out the window. The woman dove after it and the unconscious one floated after it, still unconscious I presume. I fainted.

Yesterday when I woke from that terrible experience I looked out my window and saw the count on the wall again, he disappeared through a gaping hole in the side of the castle. I waited for about two hours and slowly climbed out my window. It was terribly high up, 20,000 feet I thought.

I made it to the gaping hole and climbed in. I found myself in an empty room with stacks of those damned chairs climbing to the ceiling. I found a door and went through it. I quietly went down a hall and found myself in a very large church I presumed. Holy music playing, somewhere. I proceeded to the far end and found a room full of large boxes and grave stones. Two thousand of each I thought. But there was one box that stood out... it was old and rotten and stunk of butt gas. I grabbed it to open it and it fell apart. Out fell the count curled up, sucking his thumb. His eyes wide open, but he was asleep. He was naked and terribly muscular. His hair was deep red and striped with black. His eyes bulging. His finger and toe nails extremely long. A very grotesque sight indeed. I had to rid the world of this.......... THING! This... Count Dracoola!

I found a nearby broken broom handle I thought. It was quite sharp. By God I laid him open. I went back to the gaping whole, and slowly climbed back up to my bedroom, and now I sit on my bed writing this down.

I will go out the front door and leave this place.... In-fact I don't know why I haven't done that yet.

In a minute. I'll do it in a minute. I have to toilet first. I feel the oncomings of a loud one.

- Stefan

It hit the floor

2008-05-06T09:49:00.007-04:00

The glass tipped over and fell. This was played in slow motion to Greg. It fell the long journey to the newly carpeted floor. It hit, bounced a little, sending apple juice flying.

"Ugh!" it grunted.

"Huh?" Greg whispered to himself.

"Why did I fall?" The glass said.

But Greg was too puzzled, he only made a funny growling sound. He thought he was going mad. He passed out.

He woke up. Still on the floor, not moving.

If only someone was here to pick me up. Jeeze I made a mess. Greg thought.

- Joey

The Beetle and the Bee

2008-05-06T07:14:00.006-04:00

One day a beetle flew into a bee. They said their pardons and went on their way.
The next day they hit each-other again. They said sorry again and went on their way.
The next day they didn't fly into each-other. They said hey and went on their way.
The day after that the beetle flew across the spot they usually met, stopped flying, and hovered. The bee didn't come by. Where was he? The beetle waited and waited. Still no sign of him. He became saddened and worried. He started to go on his way when he heard the buzzing of a bee, he turned around with exited eyes and looked toward the sound. It was the bee! But he was injured.
"Sorry I'm late!" said the buzzing bee, "I just got fugin' nailed with a tennis racket! Jeez!"

- Stefan

Jack

2008-05-06T07:11:00.001-04:00

Jack went to town, Jack left town, Jack right town.

- Stefan

Breath

2008-04-24T19:04:00.016-04:00

The strong smell of cigarette smoke mixed with rotting teeth to form a smell that could only be described as what Hell would smell like shot trough the air into Roy's nostrils like a speeding train. He winced his face, then quickly snapped it back to the fake "I'm interested" expression in the fear of letting the man know his breath stunk that bad. He wished he could flip a breath mint in that gaping sewer, and watch his reaction. He wandered what it would be like to be as stupid as the man he was looking at.

"Do you even know that your breath is a force to be reckoned with?"

He suddenly realized that his thought had trailed off from what the man was saying. Roy was utterly lost as to what the man was trying to tell him. He thought he may interrupt and say: "I'm sorry, I wasn't listing." Once again he caught his mind trailing off on that newest thought.

- Joey

They Washed Up

2008-04-24T17:18:00.150-04:00

This story follows the family of two brother's, and their sons, on vacation at a beach in South Carolina. Randy and Gary are in the military, and own big guns... lol.

Randy woke up first; it was just beginning morning. A pale yellow glow seeped in through the grey curtains. As he got out of bed and walked to the bathroom Gary grunted awake, and stretched. In the next few minutes Zack awoke, followed by Seth. They all got dressed, and Seth walked out onto the ocean front balcony, breathing the cool breeze, looking at the shoreline.

That was when he noticed it. A very large jelly-fish like blob lying on the sleepy beach, transparent pale blue, the color of the sky above. A small group of 4 or 5 spectators where gathered about it, a child prodding it with the handle end of a yellow plastic shovel.

Gary scooted onto the balcony with nothing but yellow swimming trunks. Seth pointed out the strange lump, Gary was intrigued. They called out Randy and Zack, they all looked for a while at it, as a larger crowed gathered around.

They decided to get a closer look. 8 stories down, and a short walk later they were there. Now nearly 10 feet away, observing it more closely. It was nearly as tall as they were, and had ugly holes on one side of it. In each hole was something pink. It was not a jelly-fish, they could tell that much, because it had no stinging tentacles. Randy then noticed far down the shore there was another one, dead still, with a much smaller crowd of onlookers encircling it.

He quickly reattached his gaze at the one closest to him as a seagull suddenly landed on top of it. For some odd reason every one backed away as this happened. The globule didn't move. The group began to move closer again, then quickly a pink thing wriggled itself out of a horrible hole and seized the small bird, and drew it back into the hole. The crowd screamed and stumbled back.

They didn't run but they didn't move any closer this time. No more movement from that blob thing either. The crowd around the other thing turned their heads at them and eventually a few walked over.

"What's goin' on?" said a rather obese man, glistening beads of sweat on his balding head and hairy shoulders.

A middle aged lady looked over and said to the man: "One of those pink things in one of those holes came out and snatched a gull and pulled it back in. Those pink things are like tentacles or something, don't get near em!"

The fat man turned around toward the other crowd, "Get back from that thing!" he yelled, "It's got tentacles!"

Most of the people moved away, some were laughing and didn't move.

"Get away damnit, I ain't joking!" yelled the woman.

Finally they all moved away, slowly, still giggling.

They stood there for several minutes in silence. Chatting about the things. Most of the crowds stood there, a few people left, reasons unknown, no one cared though.

About half an hour later things had calmed down quite a bit although more people had showed up. Most of them with cameras, some posed beside the things and smiled. Zack found that amusing. A few idiots were actually swimming in the ocean. Zack did not find that amusing.

Then a scream, where?! Over by the other thing, no, in the water! They all looked that way. Someone was thrashing around, terrified. People screaming, the ones in the water swimming away.

Why was he screaming? Seth asked himself.

Gary was running toward the water, followed closely by Randy.

"No daddy! Don't!" yelled Zack.

They stopped.

The screaming man, what the hell?! He lept out of water! No he was propelled out! But by what? It happened so quick. Seth thought he saw something around the man. The man stopped screaming, went limp, and went under.

People continued to scream.

Why are they screaming? Zack asked himself. It's almost like they think it's gonna save him or their own life, or maybe they scream to hold on to sanity or something, or cope for a moment with insanity, it didn't matter.

The other crowd started to disperse. Some ran their way.

"Jesus!" one man said to them when he arrived, he was out of breath gasping for air. He had been in the water when it happened, "What ever the hell that was it was huge!"

"What?" asked a lady and a few others.

"I don't know. It was a creature for all I know, and it had big tentacles. That's all I saw."

The family sat on their room's balcony, surveying the beach and water. There wasn't that many people down there. Not as much as you'd probably expect after such an event. Probably four or five. There were police that had showed up, people told them what happened, but there was nothing anyone could do. A few guys said they knew the one who was now gone, "friends" they said. Some said that it could have been a shark attack. But the stories of tentacles and those blob things still sitting on the beach, made them think otherwise. By now around two more gulls had become victims to the pink things from the holes.

About twenty minutes earlier, another transparent bluish blob has rolled in around two hundred yards down the shore line from a strong wave. Except this time they got to see what it looked like as it exited the wave. The thin pink tentacle things were all protruding out of it's body, slithering, slapping, and waving about. When the thing settled down, all the tentacles retracted in quickly. A few people had filmed it happen. It was on the local news now, plus the story of the screaming man that was now gone, no one had filmed that though.

They waited for a while for some action. It came. News crews and photographers, and of course more on-lookers. But the activity eventually faded away as night came.

Nothing more happened, they went to bed.

Early the next morning Randy awoke first again and woke the rest up. It was 6:42 AM. They opened the curtain, opened the sliding glass door, and went out on the balcony. The morning was well lit.

What they saw was shocking and terrifying. The things that got the man in the water were now sitting in the ocean just off shore about 70 feet from the shore line. Three of them were visible. They were just sitting there but did twitch and move often.

The family studied them closely.

They were nightmarish. They looked like huge octopuses, save they had three large tentacles not eight. One tentacle on each side, and one in front. Their central body was probably around 40 feet from front to back, and 25 feet from side to side. The thick tentacles were each probably around 60 feet long.

They were a dirty grey color. They had 2 large white eyes and black dots for pupils. The eyes were on each side of the hulking body. Grotesque things.

It was hard to believe what they were seeing, but it was there none the less. Over time people came out, some shocked, some screamed.

The family left the hotel and went to the starting of the beach and no closer. They sat there and watched, they felt more comfortable down there on the beach for some reason. Probably because if anything happened, they had a lot of room to run and escape.

Again a lot of people showed up. One couple went to the shore line. A man and supposedly his wife. She was pulling on him to get back and they were arguing.

They froze and looked at the closest octopus thing to them.

Suddenly it lurched forward and crawled toward them with terrible speed using it's powerful tentacles to drag the rest of it's massive body.

The couple screamed and tried to run, but their efforts were useless. The thing seized them both and rushed back into the water where it previously was. On-lookers screamed and some ran away, but most couldn't, they were fixated on watching the event. The thing rolled around and exposed it's under side toward the beach. It was horrible. It's entire under side to the back of it's body was a mass of short tentacles and squirming moving things to gross to comprehend. And in the middle of it all was a large mouth, hints of thin sharp teeth. It dropped the screaming compulsing couple in one by one. The mouth closed around them, the thing rolled back around, and resumed it's original position facing the beach.

2

No one could say anything. Just as they were coming to grasp with what they just saw something flew out of the water. It went up high and fell on the beach. It was of volleyball size but had rather long tentacle things all over it, thrashing about in the sand. Mostly a dark pink color but faint spots of blue in places. It was actually moving from all the thrashing about, getting closer to people then thrashing another direction. Obviously blind, but searching for something no doubt.

More came flying out of the water all of the sudden. two, one more, three at a time, another! They slapped on the beach and some even made it passed the sand and in the brushy areas. All wiggling and rolling about.

The family and others got up and ran to a safer distance. People were screaming and falling. Around 10 more flew out of the ocean and then no more. Some actually hit people on the way down. Some grabbed them by the legs and held on. The victims were in hysteria, slapping and kicking at them.

Other things started coming out of the water. More tentacles with small bodies. Some looked like seashells. Gary and Randy grabbed Zack and Seth and ran for there car witch was close. They got in and shut the door but Gary didn't. Instead he went to the trunk and retrieved weapons. He shut the trunk and opened the passenger side door. Randy was in the drivers seat. He threw some weapons in and told Randy and them to stay. He closed the door and jogged of toward the beach. He had an M4 rifle on semi-automatic in his hands and an automatic pistol in a holster at his side. He disappeared around the hotel's side.

Randy started the car and drove it close to the beach so they could see what was happening. They caught up and saw Gary on the beach. He stopped and shouldered his weapon. Two loud shots followed. Then another. Then more here and there until his clip was expended. He swiftly reloaded and aimed toward the middle octopus thing in the water. Pop after pop he emptied probably 25 rounds at the beast. It twitched and retreated a little in the water. Gary reloaded, looked around, ran back to the car, and got in.

"There ain't much we can do besides use the rockets.." Gary swallowed, his temples were pulsing with hot blood. Zack smelled that strong fire cracker fume. It sent his mind back to a 4th of July party.. He remembered when a fire cracker shaped like an airplane flew directly at his face, he remembered the way it seemed to be floating in air for a few amazing seconds, tail sparking, before he quickly ducked down.

A loud scream from an elderly couple suddenly shot his mind back to the present. He wanted to see the creatures, he knew not to get out of the car, but he just wanted to see them. He strained his neck up over choppers broad shoulders, and looked out toward the grey ocean, what he saw startled him, just below the horizon was a line of those tree legged octopus creatures. They all were waving their tentacles high in the air like some type of proud flags. Every once in a while they would splash the water as if to worn off anyone who would be stupid enough to get close. Gary and Randy got out of the car, and opened the trunk.

A few moments later, coming around the front of the car Randy walked, a tan rocket launcher lying menacingly on his shoulder. Then Gary from the back of the car, carrying a silver mini-gun. The stunned onlookers screamed even more as they saw these weapons.

"Nobody worry! It's OK!" Randy and Gary would reply. That wasn't the only weaponry they carried; around there waist's were belts of grenades. On their backs were M16's. On Randy's side was 4 or 5 red tipped rockets. Once everyone was far from harms way, they walked onto the beach.

Gary unhooked a grenade, pulled the pin, and heaved in on the other side one of the blob which he so intriguingly looked at only the last morning, now their was nothing but intent brutality in his eyes.

He screamed a war cry and let loose his mini-gun on it, the deafening rapid pops drowned out his yelling. The grenade went off, momentarily loader than the mini-gun. The side of the blob opened up and a clear liquid gushed forth from the gaping chunk. Each round ripping, shredding it's way into the gelatinous mass.

When Gary felt satisfied, he stopped and turned his cold gaze at a clearly pissed off tree legged octopus, splashing it's way toward them.

Gary chuckled, "You clearly are the stupidest one here." He let loose his mini-gun again, as Randy sent a whistling rocket down range at it; it hit just to the right of it's terrible body, sending it flying to the left, one of it's legs was torn off. Injured, it slowly tried to crawl back into the waves. Gary didn't let it go far.

As they looked around the beach for new targets, they found it to be empty. The things had retreated. Yet Randy and Gary stood posed and ready for another swarm to come darting out. They waited for nearly 20 minutes, nothing happened. They returned their weapons to the car and went back into the hotel.

3

Organic cheerio type cereal clacked and bounced as Gary pored it into a bowl. He pored milk into it, and took a bite.

"So," He crunched loudly, "What should we do?" He swallowed and took another mouth-full.

"Ah, lets just leave tomorrow." Randy answered, poring himself a bowl. "And if they return, I still want to leave."

They didn't. The morning was breezy and relaxing. No sign of them, save for a few pieces of Blob blubber. The tide had taken away most of it, along with the creature itself. The whole incident seemed like a strange dream to them. Randy took a deep breath, and said, "Well, lets get on out of here." The family happily did so.

After nearly 90 miles of driving they got hungry, and pulled over to a "Sub-Lunch" restaurant. There was a small television up on a wall in the corner. It showed the news. And on the news it showed filming's from all over the country of these creatures. The coast's of Florida, South Carolina, California, Main, they were invading.

- Stefan and Joey

Maple

2008-04-16T23:16:00.006-04:00

Maple was a tree. She was having the best day of her life she thought. It was Fall, and she always looked very pretty in the Fall. Her hair always turned a bright red, and when the wind blew through it, she loved the feeling. Today was the best breezy, Autumn day, she had ever experienced in her 60 years of life. She was very happy.
Later someone stuck her and she bled, and that someone sold her blood as real Vermont maple syrup.

- Stefan

Nice-view Elementary

2008-04-07T19:53:00.018-04:00

The custodian of a curtain hall was the last one at the school that night. He was working later than usual. He wasn't used to working in the dark so much, it wasn't fear that he felt, just the possibility that something was there, and would show itself if it wanted. He had just laid his water bottle down on a classroom window-sill, and left the room. He started checking the rest of the doors to see if he had locked them, he had.
He returned to the room and stopped at the doorway, the bottle was not there. The window was at the other end of the room. It was dark in there, too dark. The only light was coming through the window, and it was dull and grey. He reached in the room without stepping in and flipped the light switch, it didn't work.
The hall was dark also, and he began to feal the oncoming sickness of fright. He quickly scurried across the hall to the hall light-switch and flipped it up, it too didn't work. The custodian let out a disappointed and frightened grunt. What followed his noise was another grunt like an echo, but it was not his voice, it came from the other end of the hall.
"Hey, HEY!" the custodian yelled, "Stop that!"
He waited for an answer, there was none. He didn't see or hear anything down there, but he smelled something, like a dead animal. It was very strong, strong enough to make him cover his mouth and nose with his shirt. Then it was gone.
The lights suddenly flared on. He jumped and screamed it startled him so bad. "What the hell is going on here! Who's doing that?! Stop screwing with me!" he yelled, still there was no answer. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw a figure leaning around the wall at the far end of the hall where the noise came from. It retreated, the lights went back out, and the door to the classroom where his water had been slammed shut.
The custodian made a terrified sound and ran for the exit door behind him. He was feet away from it, there was a staircase to his right and the door to his left. Someone was running up the stairs snarling and laughing. The custodian screamed and pushed open the exit doors. He made it outside and turned around to confront his follower. No-one came out, and as far as he could see no-one was in there. Heart pounding he took a deep shaky breath and turned around. He was facing a closed door, he was inside the classroom, and the light was on.

- Stefan

Grow

2008-04-05T01:40:00.003-04:00

The hard mountain stood strong. Many creatures would go by it, and look at it's proud face; but something was special about this mountain; it really did have a face, and that face talked.

..Chapter One.. An argument

The mountains name was Grow, for every year on January the 5th it grew 5 inches. Well today was that day; and Grow was enjoying the cool snows upon it's rocky face. After a few hours the snow stopped, but Grow smiled wide, he deserved it, he waited a whole year for this day. The clouds broke open, and the gold sun shown upon it's face, forcing him to squint his eyes. Grow hated this, and quickly frowned, speaking it it's deep cavernous voice: "Stop shining, it's my day to do that. You get to shine every day, now it's my turn!" But, of course, the sun did not answer; but he didn't expect it to. It just kept on shining it's bright hot lights on the face of poor old Grow throughout his growing.

..Chapter Two.. Unhappy

It was night now. The blinding sun fell in the westward sky. Grow was frowning, and crying. Releasing his cold streams into distant rivers, which in turn carry into the grey seas. No one's tears are seen by more things than mine, Grow thought in his sorrow. But then it accord to him that next year would come. In his explosion of happiness, Grow grew another 5 inches. And then in the happiness of that event, he grew another 5, and so on, and so on. That is until he reached above the realm in which we know, and looked upon things that he could not conceive, or remembered, as he slowly shrunk back into this world, down to a pebble.

- Joey

The Strange Customer

2008-04-01T03:33:00.006-04:00

George worked in a small town comic book shop, which he owned. There were many days where no one came at all. As the day faded he thought this was one of those times, until a strange person walked into the shop, wearing a tan trench coat, and big black boots; their hood was pulled up.
George politely said "Hello." The strange human nodded, not looking at George. They walked slowly down an isle of comics, out of George's site; he felt worried, and scarred; that person was just too weird. The heavy footfalls stopped.
A few moments passed with no sounds. George got up the courage, and went to see if the person was alright, or even if they were there. He walked to the isle where the customer was, he jumped in shock as he saw that they were there, and staring right at him. They didn't move, their face was shadowed. "Oh, I'm sorry.." George started saying, but stopped as the customer walked toward him, George tremblingly walked back to his cashier table and watched in horror as the person came at him, they reached in there coat pulling something out. Sweat dripped from George's balding head.
He exhaled in relief as the person pulled out a comic book, and dropped it on the table. George still shaking said, "That's.. $2.99." The odd customer pulled out a wad of hundreds and dropped it on the table. "Keep the change." They whispered, then grabbed their comic and walked out of the small store. George passed out.

- Joey

The Thing That Fell

2008-04-01T03:31:00.009-04:00

The townsfolk of Durnam were now staring at this thing that fell from the sky. It had landed just beside a road in a grassy area. No one could figure out what it was. It was large and brown-grey. The shape of it is hard to explain. It almost looked like the head of an upside-down bell-shaped flower. The bottom was split up in strips that curled up on the sides of the body. The whole thing was hard like metal. The surface texture was wildly dimpled.
The thing that fell from the sky never moved, it just set there. it became a tourist attraction.

- Stefan

Coffee and a Town

2008-03-24T22:04:00.004-04:00

In the newly opened restaurant Mayor Ronold of the small town "Riddle" drank a hot cup of black coffee. He also had a bowl of soup. Later that day, outside, the residents of Riddle were walking by, waving. There was only one, Ronold.

- Joey

The Birds on the Power-lines

2008-03-24T22:00:00.008-04:00

"Have you ever seen such a thing?" asked the young man, sitting down. "Well yes I have. A long time ago." the old man answered. "Why do they sit up there like that?" asked the young man. "They must be stupid." chuckled the old man. "There so high up on that thing, and if they fall, they can't fly." said the young man. "Ha, humans and their buildings." the old man said, "Lets get off these power-lines and go find us some worms!"

- Stefan

Reset

2008-03-24T21:53:00.005-04:00

The robot began to move. The crowd of onlookers cheered and applauded. The robot now began walking toward the crowd. They applauded louder. The robot didn't stop walking as it neared the stages end. Now the crowd began to quiet. The owner of the robot then quickly ran out and hit the reset button on the robot's chest just in time; but in turn the owner slipped off the stage and fell to his death.

- Joey

Twitch

2008-03-24T21:40:00.006-04:00

Paul was a regular man. Single. He worked hard on his job for money. It was an ordinary job. In 1938 he got one job that would change his life forever, he was so enthusiastic about it he took his first assignment right away; too quick. As he went up to his first assignment, he forgot to aim the thing at him, and shot himself. He was a hit-man. He died. The guy that he was supposed to kill nicknamed him twitch, because his left eye twitched when he shot himself.

- Stefan

"Re-crown the Crayon" Eye Say

2008-03-24T17:02:00.005-04:00

"I need to find my eye." the short man with dark skin said, and continued, "If anyone here hears my eye I will be glad if you return it to me." Everybody ignored him, they just walked right by. Except a skinny fellow with a bald head. He turned to the short dark man and asked, "What is your eye saying?" The short man lifted his mouth in a smile, and answered, "Re-crown the Crayon." The bald man then saw the short man was blind. He had a left glass eye. The other was filled with a cotton ball.
The bald man quickly walked away. But to his amazement the short man turned and started following him. The bald man turned to his left into an ally, at the far end was a wall; a dead end. He swallowed in fear. He was already half way down the ally when he looked behind him and saw the short man, but he simply walked by the ally, down the street.

- Joey

White Wolf Dead

2008-03-24T14:52:00.004-04:00

They stared at the amazingly detailed painting in awe. Many people did so throughout the day. Never did a single one of them not look at it. It was too amazing. It put the other art around it to shame. The lighting was incredibly realistic. But there was a very odd part on this painting that intrigued everyone the most; a wolf in the bottom right hand side of the painting would be there some days, and others it wouldn't. This day it was. It was a white wolf, laying on the brown grass, dead.

The museum owners hid the painting that night to make sure no one was tampering with it. The next morning they went to retrieve the painting, but it was ripped to shreds. In front the painting there was a dead white wolf.

- Joey

Blizzard

2008-03-24T14:37:00.004-04:00

The snow blew in the young couples faces as they slowly, painfully walked home. The sudden blizzard was so intense. They almost gave up hope, they had been walking for so long, but just then saw a strange orange glow ahead of them, but they continued forward, squeezing each other tightly. The orange glow rapidly changed shape. They still moved towards it. Then they finally reached the fire and warmed themselves.

- Joey

The Halloween Tree

2008-03-24T14:33:00.011-04:00

"It's always been there. Ever since my family settled here three hundred years ago. In the old field by Parkers Creek. Every year, on Halloween, the folks say the tree gets darker, they say the ghosts of the Indians that used to live here now reside in that old tree.
And on Halloween, they morn inside. Some say you can here them crying in that old tree. They were all murdered by the settlers that came here and took over the land. They killed most of them in the field. If you ever go by that tree, you'll know which one it is." The old woman in the library finished.
"Who was that old woman mamma?" Little Bobby asked his mother. "I'm not sure, she's been in that library ever since I could remember. She's been telling that story for years and years." The mother finished with a smile. "Could we go see the tree?" Bobby asked. "Sure, why not." The mother answered.
They drove through the old town, past the buildings, past all the crowded roads. They kept driving until they reached trees and farmlands. And then there it was, a sign that read: Parkers Creek. As they hit the small bridge that crossed over the creek Bobby became frightened. He didn't realize it was almost dark, and had forgotten it was Halloween. "Momma? Can we stop please I'm scared." He whimpered in the back seat. "No honey. We've came all this way. It's just an old tree.
As they got closer to field on the left side of the road, Bobby saw the tree, in the middle of the field through the rather thick brush on the side of the field. His heart began beating. The tree was so much bigger than he imagined, it must have been an old oak, or maple tree. There were no leaves on it, it's dark branches wavered in the air. And the bark was black, tar black. Bobby started crying. "Mommy please." He looked at the drivers seat. In the seat was a dark figure, not his mother, but a man, with feathers in his hair.

- Stefan

Good Hands

2008-03-24T14:29:00.003-04:00

"Rest assured, my friend, you are in good hands." the fat lady told the fat man. "What about me?" asked the young lady. "You too are in good hands." answered the fat lady. "Every one here is in good hands."
Then in an evil turn of events she closed her hands and killed them all.

- Joey

Fork in the Road

2008-03-24T14:12:00.005-04:00

Boff came to a fork in the road where he met Baff, she met Boff. They fell in love. Boff was going to take the left road. Baff was going to take the right road. But they didn't want to split up.

- Stefan

Go or Stay?

2008-03-24T13:44:00.005-04:00

Nov. 2
Leaving, James told Him to stay, He instead stepped off the creaky porch and began to walk down to his car, parked on the sidewalk. It was a cloudy Autumn day, his favorite. He felt it again.. that horrible urge to go back into that horrible house. "Stop it! Why are do doing this!?" He struggled with himself for nearly 10 minutes. He wanted to scream. The urge was too overwhelming. He went back in. The smell of the house reminded him of his grandparents basement. He always enjoyed that smell. Maybe too much. As he stood in the entrance he looked up the long staircase in front of him. He watched the dust sparkle in the rays of sunlight that shot through the dusty windows above him. He shut the large door. It made a hollow echo through the empty rooms. He never walked anywhere in the house. He simply stood in one spot, in front of the door. He always wondered what was up those stairs. At the top of them was a door, he wanted to open it badly.

Nov. 3
That morning he woke up laying on the dirty floor. "What are you doing? Are you insane?" He rolled over on his back and starred at the tall ceiling. It seemed so high up. James stood up and looked up the stairs, and pointed at it. He ignored the stairs, forcing himself to look away from them. "Just go up there!" "No!" He answered in a stern scream. He continued laying there, looking at the ceiling.

Nov. 4
He was hungry. Confused. Crying. He didn't sleep last night, he just laid there talking. "It's the best thing to do. Just go. You will like it." James said. "OK, fine." Answered Him. "But you have to come with me." Together James and Him walked up the old stairs. To the door. Written on the door in black letters was: "Heaven"

- Joey

An Unwanted Guest

2008-03-24T12:20:00.004-04:00

It fell from a tree and terrified the hiking family of 3. A dad a mom, and their daughter. It looked like some humanoid. As the family started to back away it ran off. The family then walked off, wandering what it was that they saw.

A few days past, and an older woman was walking the path, but she noticed it first, sitting toward the trunk of the tree. The first thought that came to her was an alien, an unwanted inhabitant on this planet. she picked up a rock, and threw it at the form. She missed. She found another rock and reared back, but it was gone. She too then continued along the path thinking about that strange creature.

Another day or so passed and the old woman came again, and so did the family. They were carrying small caliber rifles now, a determined look in there eyes. They spotted the form and shot it 4 times, it rolled over dead, and leaked liquid all over the ground. "Well that's the last of them damned creatures." said the father. "Yes sir, it is." replied the grandmother, "I remember when we first inhabited this planet they were all over it, They used to call this place "Earth."

- Joey

The Stateman

2008-03-24T12:01:00.005-04:00

Geoff pushed his way through the gathering crowd. He stopped beside a rather normal looking man. "Who's the Stateman?" he asked him. "He makes statements everyday." The man answered never taking his eyes off the stage. Geoff, confused, looked at the stage. Everyone started cheering as a somewhat plump elderly man stepped up to the mic.
He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen!" The Stateman said, "Today is sunny!" Then the crowd yelled and applauded. He cleared his throat again, "I Say it's a fine day!" he added. The crowd laughed. "Tomorrow may never come, yesterday may never come again!" Said the Stateman. The crown laughed and applauded.
"That will be 10 cents each." Finished the Stateman. Geoff payed in the coin box on his way out. He came back the next day.

- Stefan

Uncommon legend

2008-03-24T00:59:00.004-04:00

Lights burn out. I burn in.

When I was born I was fully grown.
When I was a 5 years old I died.
When I was dead I turned 6.
When i was 6 I shattered.

Lights burn in. I burn out.

- Joey

Dracoola

2008-03-24T00:40:00.007-04:00

"I am Dracoola!" said Dracoola.

- Stefan

Sergeant Kin

2008-03-24T00:36:00.009-04:00

"How old is he?" Asked Jim to his boot camp buddy, as he was cleaning his M16 rifle.

"Who?"

"Sgt. Kin."

"Some say he has always been here."

"What do you mean?"

"Like ever since they made the army."

That night as Jim was laying in his cot all he could think of was Sgt. Kin. And how when he had fussed at him earlier how his eyes seemed to glow with speckles a yellow. Suddenly a loud scream filled the quiet room, it was Kin, "Come here now, Jim!" He had never called him by his first name before, it was very strange, but what was stranger was that nobody else woke up. Jim looked to his left, at the end of the room stood the Sgt., a black outline against an eerie yellow glow from the hall behind him.
Jim didn't go. "NOW, CREST!" screamed the Sgt. wildly. Jim still didn't move. After a few long seconds the Sgt. turned and walked down the hall, back into his room. Jim Crest cried himself to sleep.

- Joey

The Tale of Daniel Lagoon

2008-03-23T23:46:00.000-04:00

“Who’s he?” asked the little girl. “He?” exclaimed Grandpa. “He is Daniel Lagoon! The only man to ever live to 120 years old!” The Girl, somehow became interested in the obviously made up story. “It begins like this!…” Started Grandpa.
Daniel Lagoon was a single child in the country. And by a single child I mean the only one in the country, and in fact the last child in the country. He spent most of his childhood playing by himself and creating strange worlds in his mind.
Until one day, when he was 21 years of age, he happened upon a pond in the woods just outside of town. Curious and ambitious, he dove in. There, as many tales go, he found a single thing… an angel.
Not a toy angel or anything like that, but a real angel. And it was alive. It motioned to him to swim down but in terror, Daniel swam back up and ran away from the pond.
But as the days went by he became more and more curious about the thing he saw in the water. He knew it couldn’t be someone playing around. It was too deep, and he somehow knew in his heart, it was an angel.
But never again did he go back to that pond.
“Well that’s all I know…” Stopped Grandpa.

- Stefan

Mandibles

2008-03-23T23:44:00.000-04:00

“All aboard!” the boarder dude yells. Sebastian picks up his luggage and slowly walks in a large crowd of people toward the ramp. He watches many seagulls above him flying quickly away from the ocean. The waves are abnormally calm. Nearly a minute passes before he finally enters the boat. A servant grabs a few bags from his hands and shows him to his room, which is not located far from where he boarded.
He unpacks and begins to enjoy an apple. Once the apple is gobbled up he retrieves his dairy and writes in It: Nov. 19. 56. I am now in my room aboard the beautiful lunar heading toward my homeland, and I have just finished an apple. Satisfied with his entry he returns his dairy to a luggage bag.
Feeling tired he scoots his eyes to a small yellow clock on the wall it reads: 11:22. “Well time to hit the sack.” he chuckles to himself, and punches a sack of apples. He then lays down on his bed and rests for a few minutes.
Suddenly a few loud knocks on the door: “TDOCK TDOCK!” awakes him. “Mr. Greef?” a quiet voice mummers. “Who is it?” Sebastian asks back. “Tis room service.” Sebastian relieved unlocks and opens the maroon door; but no one is there. Unable to control himself from his hatred of pranks he yells: “NAZI!” and slams shut the door. Instantaneously a knock on the door again, he opens it speedily. This time his former room servant stands before him pale as a sheet, “No, no, not a sheet, but a sheep!” Sebastian thinks to himself. The servant then whispers: “There’s a monster in the water.” Sebastian answers: “I’ll take a look.”
He exits his room, and trots to the balcony, and leans over, peering into the black water. He sees a quick huge green glint deep down in the darkness. He blinks, shakes his head, rubs his eyes, and looks again… nothing. “I saw…” he is stopped by the realization that the servant is no longer with him. He begins to feel scared. Trying to find the servant he scampers around the ship, but finding no one. “Hello!?” he yells loudly, but no answer. Suddenly a deep boom sound echoes and the ship shakes. Then another, then another, then the boat swiftly flips on its side, Sebastian flies into the cold water.
While in the water he opens his eyes and sees a huge dark shark like form but spinning like a top toward him. It’s skin gleaming green, it’s mouth equipped with mandibles. Unfortunately that’s the last thing Sebastian ever saw.

- Joey

Vinegar

2008-03-23T23:40:00.000-04:00

Joshua smelled the liquid on his brown gloves.. Vinegar. He wiped it off with a towel and continued to move around the musty room. He had just had his brown hair shaved off yesterday. He always shaved it when summer started. He hated summer. The walls were white, the carpet blue, no blood, strange considering the knifed up body. The only clue was that spilled bottle of vinegar.

- Joey

It Happened

2008-03-23T23:31:00.001-04:00

The wind blew against the house, and made a whistling sound which scared him out of his sleep. It was dark, so dark that his alarm clock made part of his room glow a faint red. It read 4:44am. He rubbed his eyes, and counted with his fingers how long he had slept.. about 5 hours. That’s enough, he thought, but he felt like a brick. He scooted to the bathroom and flipped on the light. It’s brightness blinding, he squeezed his eyes to slits, leaning over the toilet, releasing his bladder. He then swished his mouth with water, and went back to bed, leaving the bathroom light on. He was too scared to cut it off. He lay there for what felt like an hour, eyes open; he couldn’t sleep.
He lifted up, looked at the clock. It read 4:43am. It had happened. He never knew exactly what, but it just did.

- Joey

National Day for the Clinically Healthy Minded

2008-03-23T23:31:00.000-04:00

November first. "It's amazing how many people showed up." said the man in the brown coat.

- Stefan

Happy

2008-03-23T21:07:00.008-04:00

In the hole, it (covered in dimples) looked up. Above the hole someone looked down. In the hole it thought "Oh no. he found me. Now I'm going to get hit again." Above the hole they thought "Oh yes. I made it." A few moments later the thing that was in the hole is now in some water, with no one looking down on it, wanting to hit it. A year later it is now very happy, covered in mud, under a pond.

- Joey