Livy here so does it have to be within a sertin amount of words I'll post my story later and please call me Livy and my triplet sis will be helping me write she always does her name is phenix
RIP Mum Dad Alex Layla Bert Tony Onyx Ana and my little Georgie
not a day passes when I don't think of all of you, see you all someday~Mia
Nothing is impossible with god~Mia
Posted at: 12:11 am on April 11, 2012
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@EVERYONE Each entry has a limit of 1,000 words.
@Livy Actually, I would like it if only YOU wrote your story. It's not going to be fair to the other people if you have someone else helping you.
♥Rebekah ♥
Jesus Saves
Live,Love,Laugh,Dance
Be the CHANGE you want to SEE in the WORLD
Posted at: 2:03 pm on April 11, 2012
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hmm. Mystery ? ok.
I looked past my laptop to look at my dog, Ozzie. Today was average. I then heard the phone ring.
"Hello," I said
"Heheh yes hello dear." said a raspy old voice, hm. I never heard this voice before."I'm sorry, you must have called the wrong number, who is this?"
"Heheh. Oh no, Mikayla this isn't the wrong person I was looking for."
"H-h-h-how do you know my name?" I stammered
"Well, I have my sources," he added with an evil laugh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walked into the fancy hotel with my cat, Whisk. I didn't want his name to be Whiskers and I loved to cook so Whisk was born. There were yellow security tape everywhere.
"What's going on here, Deputy?" I asked
"Apparently there has been a reported theft," said D
"Theft? Of what?" I ask
"Some priceless artifact," he said scrolling through his clipboard
"Mm. So are you thinking of art theft ring?" I asked
He thought for a minute and sighed, " It's a possibility, Jones."
"Well who was it?"
"Who was what, Jones?" asked D
"Who was the victim of thievery?" I asked impatiently.
"Some woman, or rather girl, named Mikayla Chancellor."
"Guess I'll have homework tonight. Describe the artifact to me," I was pleased he was givimg me information.
"It was a pendant. Gold chain. It had a blue lapiz lazuli in the center. The pendant as a whole looked somewhat like a-a" and then he fell silent.
"Looked like a what, Deedee?" I asked
He shook his head. His face was beginning to turn pale.
"Fine, be silent." I said, spitefully. I took the clipboard from his cold hands.
"No, it can't be!" I saw the sketch of the pendant in full detail. It was a snake. Don't get me wrong there are good snakes. But this was a symbol of Rattles, who was outlawed in 45 countries and 200 provinces across the globe.
All in all, bad news.............
~EaglePurple20
* If you want a better preview or sample ask me ok?
Miks
Be sure to vote in the Ekaterina Elections! :)
Posted at: 2:43 pm on April 11, 2012
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Okay! I'll get back to you on this. I just want to post so that I can find this again. I LOVE this subject!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How long does it have to be?
"Just when you think my character can't get any cooler, I do." -Legolas
legolas greenleaf
Posted at: 5:15 pm on April 11, 2012
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Oh... sorry didn't see the 1000 word thing.
"Just when you think my character can't get any cooler, I do." -Legolas
legolas greenleaf
Posted at: 5:16 pm on April 11, 2012
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Oh yeah, mystery!!!!!!! I have a beautiful mystery story up my sleeve that I've been meaning to type up for a while.........expect my entry soon!!!!!! :)
-Kim :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
Kimberly :D
Wind and Fire Speaker
A CHAIN REACTION OF COMPASSION
Posted at: 6:01 pm on April 11, 2012
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I looked outside my window, the grass was swaying and there wasn’t a single person. I frowned, there used to be people coming. I took my eyes off the window and walked outside to the garden and looked around, where was Juan, who was supposed to be having a picnic. I bit my lip and walked inside. I closed the door and witnessed a shadow run. I shook my head it could have been just my imagination. I walked upstairs and sat on my bed.
“Senn, Senn, Senn.” A voice said. I froze.
“Of course you know me. I am the man you accused for murder, the man who said that broke your heart.” The man continued.
“Y-y-you?” I asked as I turned around to see a man leaning on the wall beside my bed, the man who was accused for serial murder and brought to jail10 years ago, the man who broke my heart 10 years ago.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him. 14
“Oh, nothing. Just waiting for you to pay.” He said checking his knife
“P-p-pay for w-w-what?” I stuttered. He moved closer, his eyes turned to a ruthless stare.
“Pay for making me stay in prison for 10 years, for a crime I never committed!” He shouted on my face.
“YOU DID THE SERIAL MURDER IN THE MUESEUM AND IN THE MANSION, I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES!”I screamed. He shook his head and placed the knife on my neck and said
“Good by Senn Garcia.” He told me. Then he pushed the knife closer to my throat and killed me with his knife ____________________________________________________
Rings of police cars surrounded the area where a woman, about 29 years old was killed.
“Who was murdered Joe?” Jocelyn Smith, one of the officers of the police force said.
“A woman. Her name is Senn Garcia, 29 years old. She was murdered.” He said.
“Any traces of the criminal?” Jocelyn asked him. Then he examined the knife. The initials of C.M. Clement Mendoza. The serial murderer
Hydra and Nicole
"You won't appreciate something until it's gone."
"Shut up and eat your pears" ~Katniss
Posted at: 11:03 pm on April 11, 2012
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Kay, nearly done.
"Oh, I see. Um...feelings?"
"Feelings."
"Girls?"
"Girls."
"Flowers?"
"Excellent!"
Posted at: 11:58 pm on April 11, 2012
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Mystery! I'll post my story soon!-
1
☮
Psych-O
Guardian Leader
A C-H-A-I-N Reaction ofCompassion
Whatever floats your boat...Or sinks your Titanic.
Vote for me in the Ekat elections!
Posted at: 12:52 pm on April 12, 2012
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Four Words To Say Why
A shadow flitted across the sunlit field, disappearing into the shaded woods at the far edge. A still body lay motionless upon the grass, staring with unseeing eyes at the pale blue sky above. Red stained the grass, but it could not be seen if the red was from blood or from the ring of wildflowers scattered around the corpse like a twisted send off. The shadow smiled, knife blade glinting in the fading evening light, clutching a small box close. People would search, wonder, but they'd never know who, never know why. Why the bloodied wildflowers laid around the corpse, twisted into writing, into four clear words. Why the killer didn't hide, just sat in the shade and laughed when the people came and found the body. But they wouldn't come till dawn, wouldn't see those four words written with such painstaking care. Darkness fell, birdsongs turned to cricket chirps, sun to moon, life to death. But there was still the red, illuminated by the pale silver moonlight. And, reflected by that light, snow white hair laid spread upon the grass like a coating of snow, glinting gently. A pale, thin face was upturned towards the full moon, never to see it again. Hands folded peacefully over a black clothed torso, as if their owner was merely asleep. And then dawn broke, the sun seeing the silent body, and farther out those who came in search. Crying their missing friend’s name, the small group blundered into the clearing, stopping dead at the sight. Frozen in shock, still as stone, then finally the spell broke. Crying the young woman’s name, rushing to her side, sobbing in fear and sorrow. Calls were made, pleas for help, maybe to save the unmoving girl. But she moved not an inch, not even when they grabbed her hands and pulled her up. And it was then they saw why she would not move. A crudely cut hole, shaped like a heart on the left side of her chest stained the earth red. Surrounded by spider lilies, spelling out the four words that showed them who had done this. And then the laughter, coming from the man in the shadows, making them turn. He made no move to come closer. In his hands he held two things, a knife and a small black box. They recognized his face, heard the wail of police sirens, and watched the knife glint once again in the soft light as the sun fully clear the horizon. More red, matching the already spilled blood and the flowers, and the man fell beside the woman, as still as she. And the group could do nothing, nothing but watch in horror and wait. And when the police came, they couldn’t explain what had happened. The only evidence of why were the four words spelled out on the ground. Here lay the fallen…
"Oh, I see. Um...feelings?"
"Feelings."
"Girls?"
"Girls."
"Flowers?"
"Excellent!"
Posted at: 2:46 pm on April 12, 2012
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I lay down in my bed motionless the bright yellow blankets pulled up over my head. People were yelling at each other in gruff voices, glass was shattering and loud footsteps seemed to get closer and closer. I heard them in the next room eagerly going through my mom’s jewelry I held on to the covers tighter pulling them all the way over my head curled up into a little ball holding onto my mother’s emerald necklace, she had told me to keep it close and it would protect me from danger, and now I prayed that it would keep me safe from these burglars. I heard a loud thump as they slammed my door open carrying bags of valuables, our valuables. I squeaked a little as the door was opened and they must have heard tears streamed down my face as they pulled off the yellow blanket revealing me. I stared into the cold blue eyes of one of the men, silently pleading for him to leave. The last thing I remembered doing was slipping the emerald into my pocket and saying
“I promise I won’t tell”
House broken into and girl missing
“The disappearance of Isabelle White was the biggest mystery of the year so far according to the sheriff who after contacting Mr. and Mrs. White that their house had been broken into and their daughter missing had searched the house and found no signs of Isabelle. They had been devastated and ended their holiday early to come back to their home town in Ohio.” The news paper article read and detective Jones had been reading it over and over. This was one of the biggest mystery’s a total of 20,000 dollars of merchandise had been stolen from the house the robbers/kidnappers had clearly taken everything, even the car. When detective Jones looked at the crime scene he thought that the girl, Isabelle, had been in her bed when the robbery and kidnapping happened but he couldn’t be sure. Jones had collected every scrap of evidence he could find and so far nothing seemed to explain why they had taken Isabelle. Detective Jones folded up the newspaper and finished off his coffee before tossing the cup in the garbage. Walking out of the coffee shop Jones slid into his police car and drove down to the crime scene the normally peaceful neighborhood had been disrupted by police lights yellow tape and interviews. Detective Jones had seen it over and over too many times when a child is missing for more than eight days people start to give up hope. Mr. and Mrs. White seemed to slip deeper and deeper into sadness and it got harder and harder to get them back. Detective Jones noticed them on a park bench a few meters away, their faces pale and sunken, wrinkles getting deeper, gray hair starting to show, he was losing them. Detective Jones ran back to the house grabbing his high performance flashlight and slipping under the yellow police tape. Running to Isabelle’s room, her yellow and lavender walls seemed to scream happiness but nothing was happy about a crime scene. He bent down onto the floor shining his flashlight under the bed, there was something under there. He reached until his fingers touched the worn paper and pulled it out. A train schedule. They had a lead.
After Sheriff John had heard the news about the lead he ran out into his police car and turned on the siren. Racing down the streets of Danton, Ohio cars moving to the side of the road to let him through and did the same for the 12 other police cars that were following him. He was almost to the train station and after a few more miles he arrived clearing out the station and cancelling the rest of the trains for the next eight hours. Seven hours later they had nothing, Sheriff John walked outside to get some air brushing his hand through his hair and shining his flashlight around the dark train tracks until something shimmered under the light of the LED flashlight. He walked up to it and found an Emerald necklace. He picked it up and walked a little farther. His mouth hung open he had just solved the Kidnapping of Isabelle White it was no longer a kidnapping it was a murder.
It is 727 words YA!!! i did it
~AmberAqua91/Emily~
Dance Academy RP
Make your life colorful you never know what could come out of it -ME
The laws of physics... merely loose suggestions
WHOVIAN
District 5 Tribute
Come to the dork side we have Pi.
Posted at: 4:35 pm on April 12, 2012
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Can it be Cahill related??? Just wondering- Madeliene
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
When you're fast asleep.
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Posted at: 7:52 pm on April 12, 2012
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Here's my story!
He had said it. He had said the worst thing that could happen. The worst news that ever happened to me! I couldn't take it. I ran out the room, crying and sobbing all the way. I screamed, "WHY?!"
Nathan was my brother! He was only 3! The world was a cruel and harsh land. And now, it had taken away my brother. My ONLY brother.
Nothing was more cruel. Except... Blole. A mixture of black and hole, it had your worst nightmares. Each year, the world had to sacrifice 1 person so that Blole wouldn't take over the world. The world had picked... Nathan.
He was sent off to space. Resisting, of course. Luckily, I wasn't there. I couldn't have taken the way he would have looked at me! Suddenly, a knock came at the door. "Go away!" I yelled at... whoever knocked.
"Nancy! You would regret this if you don't open this door!" my mom called from outside.
"I already regret everything I ever did!" I answered.
My mom lock-picked the door. I heard the door open. "Nancy," called a sweet familiar voice.
I turned around. I widened my eyes. There, standing was a healthy and safe Nathan. How did he get here?! I asked myself. Oh, well. Who cares?! I hugged my little brother, as if I hadn't seen him in 100 years!
:),
nAnCy
✎ Amian Writer ✍
╬ Jesus ☤Freak ╬
Posted at: 9:23 pm on April 12, 2012
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Well ... here's my story: Letters to the dead (Like most of the stuff I write on the MB, this is a fan fiction based around Sherlock, the BBC drama series)
Rain poured out of the dark, gloomy sky as thunder rang in the air. Even though 221B stayed dry on the inside, tears fell onto Dr John H. Watson's sweater as he grieved the death of his closest friend and flat mate, Sherlock Holmes. Even though the dramatic fall off of St Bart's Hospital had occurred three years ago, the pain in John's heart still existed, even after the countless times he tried to extinguish it.
John's therapist had suggested to move away from 221B and Baker Street permanently so he could try to forget about everything that had happened on that day. But every time John had started to pack his belongings, he would break down into tears. It was just impossible to move away from a place where memories were created.
Even though everyone had tried to make his life feel less gloomy, nothing seemed to make John less depressed until one day Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, had come up to 221B with a piping hot bowl of Chicken Soup.
"Listen Johnny boy," she had said. "Please don't cry for poor old Mrs. Hudson, will you? Everything will be okay."
"No, it won't be!" John had yelled. He looked at Mrs. Hudson, who had tears in her eyes. John's expression softened. "Look, I'm sorry. But nobody can replace Sherlock Holmes. Not even Mycroft."
"I know dear. That's why I brought this with the Chicken Soup," she passed an envelope, a piece of paper and a pencil to him. "Write a letter to Sherlock. He'll appreciate it if you did. I'm certain of it."
"He doesn't appreciate anything, even if he's dead." John sighed.
Mrs. Hudson shook her head with disappointment. "Just try, Johnny boy. It's just that I don't want you to cry anymore." She ruffled John's hair before returning back to her flat.
John was left staring at the paper, unsure whether or not to follow Mrs. Hudson's advice or shred the paper into pieces, similar to what he did to his life.
. . .
It had been five days since Mrs. Hudson had come to 221B with the bowl of soup and paper and John still hadn't written anything onto it. Even after he tried and tried and tried over and over again, he just couldn't think about what to tell Sherlock. He gripped the pencil in his hand, determined that he would at least write a sentence for him. Finally, after five minutes of struggling, John's pencil finally touched the paper and he began to write.
Dear Sherlock,
I know it's been three long years since I last saw you but I want you to know that somehow, you're still alive, shooting the smiley face on the wall and deducting someone's life by taking one glance at them.
Sherlock, all I wan't you to know is that you're still my best friend and that I really miss you, even after three, long years of sitting here doing nothing.
If you're reading this in heaven or some random place in the sky, I want you to come home. Even though I know it's impossible and that once you're gone, you're ... gone.
But I still cannot accept the fact that you're a dead man who lied about everything.
Just ... don't be dead.
John H. Watson, your best (and only) friend.
John could feel tears trickle down his cheeks and fall onto the paper. He wiped them away, knowing that if he cried, it wouldn't help. He then donned his rain gear and headed outside to the cemetery.
. . .
One month ... And still no reply
That was all about to change.
"John! Come here quickly! There's a letter for you!" Mrs. Hudson shouted.
"I'm coming Mrs. Hudson!" John replied. He walked towards the old woman, annoyed that another bill had come.
Mrs. Hudson smiled as she pinched John's cheeks. "Cheer up, Johnny boy. This isn't a bill."
She passed the envelope to John. He held it with trembling fingers as her read the front. It simply addressed it to Dr. John H. Watson, 221B Baker Street in a neat cursive.
Sherlock's cursive, John thought.
He then carefully cut open the letter with a pair of scissors to reveal only a sentence written in the middle of a slightly damp page:
Don't grieve, I'm here.
- SH
That was the only evidence John needed to state that Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat, was alive and waiting for the right time to come back from the dead.
So let’s set the WORLD on FIRE …
We can burn BRIGHTER …
Than the SUN …
Posted at: 5:46 am on April 13, 2012
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Oh darn it, the topic was mystery. :(
Could I enter another story to replace the one I posted?
So let’s set the WORLD on FIRE …
We can burn BRIGHTER …
Than the SUN …
Posted at: 5:47 am on April 13, 2012
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don't mind the 14
Hydra and Nicole
"You won't appreciate something until it's gone."
"Shut up and eat your pears" ~Katniss
Posted at: 10:38 am on April 13, 2012
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@Madeliene Ummmm, no. I wanna see how well you come up with your own story.
♥Rebekah ♥
Jesus Saves
Live,Love,Laugh,Dance
Be the CHANGE you want to SEE in the WORLD
Posted at: 2:37 pm on April 13, 2012
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@ReadingLavender9 Yes:)
♥Rebekah ♥
Jesus Saves
Live,Love,Laugh,Dance
Be the CHANGE you want to SEE in the WORLD
Posted at: 2:38 pm on April 13, 2012
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Ok!!! :D
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
When you're fast asleep.
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Posted at: 6:50 pm on April 13, 2012
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Got it!!!!!!!! :)
Written from the point-of-view of Sophia Truman:
After 45 minutes of working in the hot, stuffy attic, we all were exhausted. Peter, Mrs. Allen, and I all stopped for a break, but Caleb kept working. He seemed to have endless energy.
Suddenly, Caleb squealed with delight. Everyone looked over at him. Grinning, he held up a handful of old tin soldiers. “Look at these! Mommy, can I keep them? Can I carry them downstairs? Please?” he pleaded.
“Sure, honey,” Mrs. Allen replied, smiling. “Do you need some help getting them down?”
“No, I can do it!” Caleb said firmly, and picked up a box. About a dozen of the figures fell out of a hole in the bottom of the box. He tried to pick them up, but more tumbled to the floor.
“Whoops, looks like you need some help,” I said kindly, getting up from the floor and going over to Caleb. “Here, just take those down to your room. I’ll bring these to you.”
Carefully, I started gathering the metal soldiers. While I was pushing them all into a pile, something to my right glinted. Startled, I turned my head and faced an enormous pile of junk. I squinted at it, trying to figure out what had caused the glint. Standing up and going over to it, I moved some boxes, old paintings, and a small trunk. Standing there, leaning against the wall, was an old mirror.
It was covered in dust, and the elaborate frame was proof that it was very old. Peter and Mrs. Allen had been watching me with curiosity, and now they came over.
Peter carefully picked the mirror up and examined it. “It looks freakishly old. And why is it covered with so much dust?” he asked, passing his finger over the surface and then wiping it on his shorts. “Nothing else up here is so dusty.”
As if to answer his question, the mirror's surface cleared. Now, it was sparkling clean.
We all stared at it. What had just happened? And then something happened that would change our lives-forever.
Writing began to appear on the surface, dust writing. All three of us stared in awe at the forming words. The mirror read: I am Evelyn Fitzgerald, a 138 year old girl. Or her spirit, anyways. Please do not be frightened, for I will not hurt you.
Peter’s face was pale, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists. Mrs. Allen’s knees began to visibly shake. I was paralyzed with fear and astonishment, but my hand did something without it registering in my mind. It reached out and touched the glass. Instantly, the writing vanished, and where I had touched the mirror, a small dot of dust appeared.
Peter was the first one to come to his senses. “We can write back!” he cried. He began to scribble on the mirror’s surface in his messy handwriting.
The reply came back in a few seconds: Who am I? That, my friends, is a long story, a very long one indeed. It will take me a while. First, though, I must ask you a question, and you must give a truthful answer.
Peter and I looked at each other. I knew what he was thinking. Is this real? Can we trust her? I gave a slight nod of my head, and he took the mirror up again in his hands.
You will? I suppose I should show you the question first. Here it is- Will you free me from this attic and bring peace to my family and me?
We all looked startled. Mrs. Allen spoke first, “Of course…if there is any possible way.” Peter scrawled her words onto the glass.
Then here is the first thing you must do- figure out who murdered me.
I stared at the words, starting to have some regrets. How could we- two 12 year olds from a small town, a young mother, and a 7 year old kid- bring a century-old murderer to justice?
What I didn't know was this: it was only the first of seemingly impossible tasks that Evelyn Fitzgerald would ask us to do.
Hope you like my story!!!!! :)
-Kim :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
Kimberly :D
Wind and Fire Speaker
A CHAIN REACTION OF COMPASSION
Posted at: 9:28 pm on April 13, 2012
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okay the formatting didn't come out right so here is mine again
lay down in my bed motionless the bright yellow blankets pulled up over my head. People were yelling at each other in gruff voices, glass was shattering and loud footsteps seemed to get closer and closer. I heard them in the next room eagerly going through my mom’s jewelry I held on to the covers tighter pulling them all the way over my head curled up into a little ball holding onto my mother’s emerald necklace, she had told me to keep it close and it would protect me from danger, and now I prayed that it would keep me safe from these burglars. I heard a loud thump as they slammed my door open carrying bags of valuables, our valuables. I squeaked a little as the door was opened and they must have heard tears streamed down my face as they pulled off the yellow blanket revealing me. I stared into the cold blue eyes of one of the men, silently pleading for him to leave. The last thing I remembered doing was slipping the emerald into my pocket and saying
“I promise I won’t tell”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
House broken into and girl missing
"The disappearance of Isabelle White was the biggest mystery of the year so far according to the sheriff who after contacting Mr. and Mrs. White that their house had been broken into and their daughter missing had searched the house and found no signs of Isabelle. They had been devastated and ended their holiday early to come back to their home town in Ohio.” The news paper article read and detective Jones had been reading it over and over. This was one of the biggest mystery’s a total of 20,000 dollars of merchandise had been stolen from the house the robbers/kidnappers had clearly taken everything, even the car. When detective Jones looked at the crime scene he thought that the girl, Isabelle, had been in her bed when the robbery and kidnapping happened but he couldn’t be sure. Jones had collected every scrap of evidence he could find and so far nothing seemed to explain why they had taken Isabelle. Detective Jones folded up the newspaper and finished off his coffee before tossing the cup in the garbage. Walking out of the coffee shop Jones slid into his police car and drove down to the crime scene the normally peaceful neighborhood had been disrupted by police lights yellow tape and interviews. Detective Jones had seen it over and over too many times when a child is missing for more than eight days people start to give up hope. Mr. and Mrs. White seemed to slip deeper and deeper into sadness and it got harder and harder to get them back. Detective Jones noticed them on a park bench a few meters away, their faces pale and sunken, wrinkles getting deeper, gray hair starting to show, he was losing them. Detective Jones ran back to the house grabbing his high performance flashlight and slipping under the yellow police tape. Running to Isabelle’s room, her yellow and lavender walls seemed to scream happiness but nothing was happy about a crime scene. He bent down onto the floor shining his flashlight under the bed, there was something under there. He reached until his fingers touched the worn paper and pulled it out. A train schedule. They had a lead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Sheriff John had heard the news about the lead he ran out into his police car and turned on the siren. Racing down the streets of Danton, Ohio cars moving to the side of the road to let him through and did the same for the 12 other police cars that were following him. He was almost to the train station and after a few more miles he arrived clearing out the station and cancelling the rest of the trains for the next eight hours. Seven hours later they had nothing, Sheriff John walked outside to get some air brushing his hand through his hair and shining his flashlight around the dark train tracks until something shimmered under the light of the LED flashlight. He walked up to it and found an Emerald necklace. He picked it up and walked a little farther. His mouth hung open he had just solved the Kidnapping of Isabelle White it was no longer a kidnapping it was a murder.
It is 727 words YA!!! i did it
~AmberAqua91/Emily~
Dance Academy RP
Make your life colorful you never know what could come out of it -ME
The laws of physics... merely loose suggestions
WHOVIAN
District 5 Tribute
Come to the dork side we have Pi.
Posted at: 8:05 pm on April 14, 2012
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Church on the Blood
Church on the Blood. That place always gives me the willies. Ever since we studied the Romanovs in middle school. Now I'm afraid to go anywhere near it. You'd think that a 17 year old girl would have grown out of a fear like that by now but not me. I never dreamed no I never nightmared that I would witness something remotely similar even when I went into the private eye business knowing that lots of bloodshed lay before me. I'm Sunny Knoll and this is what I do.
It all started on a Sunday afternoon I was walking to church with my roommate at collage Alyssa Parks. We were 1/2 a block away from the field our church meets at during the summer we heard a siren which wasn't unusual especially on weekends but then an ambulance rushed past us.
"Watch out. " Alyssa screamed at the ambulance driver that had nearly hit her.
" Chillax!!!" I said trying to calm her down. " we're both ok just think about the person in the ambulance." Alyssa isn't always the most patient person.
" how can I ' Chillax ' if that guy almost hit me?" she raged. We walked on in silence her fuming me thinking about school, friends, and family. Then we heard sobbing. We run the last hundred feet or so and turned the corner. There was our church wailing. Someone else had set up a tent and folding chairs at the front people were sitting in the chairs. Our arch nemesis, a church that wants our field to build a large Cathedral on. Their pastor, Ka'Lea O'malley was pacing around in his odd way. He stopped in a puddle of blood, guts, bones, and marrow. I almost puked. I walked over to our churches group of people. A young girl, whom I knew to be the pastors daughter named Anná Jonfer, with gold curls, huge blue eyes, and perfect skin, seemed so sad that it looked like her heart had broken. It probably had as I realized that the person the the ambulance had been Jaquê Jonfer, Anná's father, and Ka'Lea had been standing in some of his remnants.
" Oh Anná " I gasped. " I'm so sorry "
" Sunny " she sobbed " what do I do now? "
" I don't know but I will find out what happened! " I stated firmly. Then I waited until the service was done to talk to Ka'Lea.
" What happened ?" I almost shouted. " now this church has no pastor and Anná is an orphan!"
" calm down Ms Knoll " he said in a voice like ice " I know not what happened but this is the property of St Harrods and your church has no right to be here. Leave now or I will call the sherif. "
" Not until you tell me what happened. " I bellowed.
" fine Ms Knoll. As you wish. I was coming to see Mr Jonfer about selling me this property when I saw your roommate, Angela?"
" Alyssa?" I queried.
" yes I saw her plunge a knife into Mr Jonfers side and run. I tried to stop her to no avail. Then I rushed back to the dying man and asked him to sign the document and he did. So I set up the tent and chairs and then preached my sermon. And that is what happened. "
" that's impossible" I retorted.
What was wrong with Ka'Lea's story???
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
When you're fast asleep.
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Posted at: 7:50 pm on April 15, 2012
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Oops! Didn't see the topic... can I enter a different story?
nAnCy
✎ Amian Writer ✍
╬ Jesus ☤Freak ╬
Posted at: 12:22 am on April 16, 2012
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@Nancy Yes.
♥Rebekah ♥
Jesus Saves
Live,Love,Laugh,Dance
Be the CHANGE you want to SEE in the WORLD
Posted at: 3:31 pm on April 16, 2012
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i want to join
~Rasp, theGreatandPowerful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
please add me!!!!
Posted at: 7:06 pm on April 16, 2012
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How many people get eliminated each round???
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
When you're fast asleep.
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Posted at: 7:50 pm on April 16, 2012
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Is it okay if this is really short??????????????????
Coolia closed the cabinet in her kitchen. There wasn't a single box of Cheerios left.
"Hey Mom!" she screamed up the stairwell. Silence. "Mom?" More silence. Coolia raced up the stairs, her heart pounding.
"Mom? Dad?" she shrieked, when she saw no evidence of her mother.... or her father.
"What's wrong?" a voice called from the walls.
Coolia screamed and bustled down the stairwell.
"What's wrong?" the voice asked again. She ran to the door and tried opening it. No such luck. It wouldn't budge.
"I asked you what's wrong. What's wrong?" the voice demanded. Coolia couldn't open her mouth. Her heart was beating through her chest. Buh-dump, Buh-dump, Buh-dump.
"Answer me! Or else!" the voice warned.
"Or else what?" Coolia retorted. She might have been scared to death, but no one, no one ever threatens her. That was the one thing that shook her out of her fear.
"Or else, you'll end up like your parents, Coolia. Don't try me."
"What did you do to my parents? Where are they?!?!?!?!?!" she shrieked.
"They're dead. And it's your job to find them, not mine. Not that you'll ever get the chance to. Coolia, the Carilalsen dynasty is gone, and soon the Mathinas dynasty will be too."
Coolia only stared at the wall. Mathinas dynasty. Mathinas. Namithas! Namithas was her last name.
"They found out," she thought, "They know who we are. They know that I'm-"
She wasn't able to finish her thought. Because before she could, a cloth was placed in front of her nose, and she blacked out.
-Mahin
MahinT♥♫
It takes an ocean not to... break—Birdy
I’ll never forget you Harper. Bottom of Form
Bottom of Form
Posted at: 8:18 pm on April 16, 2012
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@RaspberryAgent1 I'm sorry, but I can't take anymore sign ups. Sorry again.
@Madeliene Five....no six...no seven.
♥Rebekah ♥
Jesus Saves
Live,Love,Laugh,Dance
Be the CHANGE you want to SEE in the WORLD
Posted at: 1:02 pm on April 17, 2012
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Ok thanks
A dream is a wish your heart makes,
When you're fast asleep.
In dreams you lose your heartaches,
Whatever you wish for, you keep.
Posted at: 4:01 pm on April 17, 2012
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I'll post ASAP:)-Topaz 
I’maDauntless,Amian,District8 Victor,Daughterof Poseidon,Psycho, andAshley’s Padawan, butmostofallI’mTopaz.
We'll miss you Cailynn, we love you! <3
Posted at: 9:48 pm on April 17, 2012
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I sat at my desk looking over the files. At sixteen I was already a well known private detective that would occasionally consult for the police. I had a knack for seeing the tiniest details and in my free time I would research anything I could.
This case was tough. A necklace was stolen from the antique jewelry museum in my town, Little Creek. For such a small town, lots of crimes were committed. The only evidence left was a note saying, “Come play my game, it should be fun. I hope that I can make you run.” It was signed with a black stamp in the form of a bat. This was done by a professional who wanted to play.
“Jessica!” I heard my mom shout. “Dinner’s ready!”
“Coming!” I shouted back. I set down the file of evidence and hurried into the dining room. My dad was the head detective in the Little Creek police department, so that’s how I got to consult for them. I always wanted to be like my dad. He was one of the most skilled people I knew.
The door bell rang.
“I’ve got it!” I yelled. I answered the door quickly.
“Jessica Beauregard?” the man at the door said. He was wearing a black jacket and he had a large nose. In the space of a few seconds, I noticed many things that would take me a minute to process. I still didn’t know what most of what I saw meant, but in the space of a few minutes, I would figure it out. “Yes?” I answered warily.
“My name is Bob Kent. I have some information about the museum robbery.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I have to show you and your father,” Bob said. I shrugged and turned to call to my dad. I suddenly felt a hand close around my mouth. I started to cry out then I felt a knife on my throat.
“You will come quickly and quietly, or I will kill you right now,” Mr. Kent said, if that was, in fact, his name. He dragged me outside and quietly closed the door. He lowered the knife and fumbled in his pocket for a second. I smelled a strange scent as a cloth was brought up to my nose. Everything went black.
I woke up in a small room, my wrists bound in front of me. I looked around and saw that I was in the projector room for a theater. A film was playing in the auditorium below. By now I had figured this case all out. The shards of glass in the man’s shoes, the bat insignia on his jacket, the athletic build, everything. His family’s crest had a bat on it, as seen on his jacket and on the piece of paper. He was a member of the Kent family, notorious for training bats to send messages during times of war. His athletic build used to make it past the security cameras before he was spotted and the glass in his shoe from the glass case containing the stolen jewelry.
The door opened and Bob came in.
“Well, well, well,” I said. “If it isn’t Mr. Criminal himself.”
“What do you know?” he asked.
“Well, firstly, you are Bob Kent, son of Michael Kent. Your family is notorious for training bats to send messages during times of war. You yourself are a man of artwork, designing a family crest of a bat. You made the stamp used to put a bat on a piece of paper used in a museum robbery where you stole the jewelry. But, in the process, you broke some of the glass, leaving it on your shoe.” I motioned awkwardly to his shoes and he glanced down. “You were able to outrun the security cameras and that was how you escaped detection. You work here at the movie theater where you indulge on the popcorn daily.” This I had gotten from the small bits of popcorn I saw on the rim of his jacket.
“Well. You are quite observant, aren’t you?” he asked. I heard laughing coming from the auditorium below.
“I also know that this will be one of the first places they will look because no one comes up here. Everything is done by computers now. No one has to maintain the projectors anymore.”
“Shut up,” he said, clearly annoyed. I then noticed that I was sitting right next to the projector. He had a device hooked up to it that had a wire poking into my neck. “With this device, when the movie reaches a certain point, will electrocute you with enough force to kill four elephants. I timed it perfectly so that it corresponds with the funniest moment in the movie. Your screams will be drowned out by the screams of laughter coming from the audience. I just wanted to say my last goodbyes. I wish I could have gotten your dad, but you work just as well.” He flipped a switch and the device turned on with a low hum. “Goodbye, Jessica,” he said with a sneer. He laughed in time with the audience and walked out of the projector room. Now what was I going to do?
Detective Harold Beauregard looked at the security camera footage from the time his daughter disappeared. Bob! Of course! The detective rushed to the garage and hopped in his car. He drove to the movie theater as fast as he could. If only he could make it in time!
The door burst open and I jumped as I saw my father.
“Dad!” I yelled. “Turn off the device! Quick!” He found the switch and flipped it quickly, hugging me tightly.
“Are you sure you still want to be a detective?” he asked.
“Nothing could steer me away!” Bob Kent came in wearing handcuffs. “And may justice be served!”
"Just when you think my character can't get any cooler, I do." -Legolas
legolas greenleaf
Posted at: 1:35 am on April 18, 2012
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Okay, here it is! (And, no, I have nothing against Justin Bieber.)
Missing: Wanted: Dead:
Eleanor Kasy Harley Rogers Mike Lipsworth
Josiah Strong Matt Vanderson Casey Leaver
Penelope Droll Justin Bieber Hanna Jolkins
Jessica Lamproff
Josie stared up at the names on the bulletin board. They filled her with dread. She was at the police station, about to report two more. Maggie Likkit and Sue Johnson, her two best friends. Were they dead? No. At least she hoped not.
Someone taped her on the shoulder, startling her.
"The chief will see you now." the officer, Kim, said.
Josie gave her a quick smile. "Thank you."
Kim lead her into the chief's office, closing the door behind her. Josie, nervously, looked around. There were a few pictures on the wall, a lamp, a desk, and some filing cabinets. Nothing special. Chief Dave was directly in front of her, sitting at the desk.
Josie took a deep breath, and stepped forward. "I'd like to report a missing persons case."
Two Days Earlier
"Wake up, Jose, Mom wants you to help with breakfast." a voice said.
"I don't wanna, Jean, it's only nine o'clock." Josie mumbled sleepily.
A bucket of water was dumped onto her.
"Hey!" Josie screamed. "Get outta hear!"
Jean ran for the door. She was Josie's eighteen year old sister, whereas, Josie, was only thirteen.
Josie sighed and got up; there was no chance she'd get back to sleep now. She walked over to her closet, and flipped through her outfits.
"No... No... no..." Josie said, as she rejected her outfits. Finally she found an outfit that she liked, and put it on.
She walked down the stairs, and headed to the kitchen.
"Mornin' Josie. How'd ya sleep?" her mom asked. Jean was smirking behind her coffee.
"Fine." Josie said, shooting Jean a look.
After she finished breakfast, Josie told her mom she was going to ride over to Sue's house, and hang out there for a while.
"Sure, Josie." her mother replied. "Just watch out for snakes, they've got rattlers out hear, you know."
Josie rolled her eyes and walked out the door.
She hopped on her bike and rode down the road. Sue's house was only a few blocks away. When she got there, she rang the doorbell, and Sue's mother answered.
"Hi there, Josie! Looking for Sue?" she asked.
Josie nodded.
"I think she's just gone over to Maggie's place, you can try looking for her there."
Josie nodded her thanks and hopped back on her bike. Maggie lived just another few blocks away.
When she got there, the place was deserted. No Maggie, no Sue, no anyone.
That's strange, Josie thought, the cars are still here... Josie decided to make sure they weren't home, so she went around back. Still, she found no one.
Josie sighed. "Oh well." She got on her bike, and started for home.
On the way, she spied Mrs. Likkit.
"Hello Mrs. Likkit!" Josie called. "Have you seen Maggie and Sue anywhere?"
"Why no, Josie, they're supposed to be at our house. Did you check there?" Mrs. Likkit replied.
"Yeah, I couldn't find them anywhere!" Josie said.
Mrs. Likkit's eyebrows knit together. "Well that's odd. I told them not to leave the house unless they were going over to your place, in which case, they were to leave a note. You're sure they're not there?"
Josie nodded. "I'm sure. I'll go back to my place and check. If I see them, I'll call you." Josie continued the ride home, hoping that her two friends were there.
When she got home, however, there was no trace of them. Josie didn't think much of it, though, her friends liked go exploring sometimes. She just wished they had invited her.
The next day, Josie got a call from Mrs. Likkit, saying that neither Sue, nor Maggie had been found. That worried Josie greatly, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Mrs. Likkit assured her that Mrs. Johnson would call the police if they weren't back in an hour, but Josie knew that it wouldn't help. To the police, a person wasn't missing unless they had been gone for fourty-eight hours.
"What a stupid rule." Josie said to herself. If Magz and Sue weren't back by tomorrow, she decided, she'd go to the police station herself.
Hope you liked it! And, do you think I should make a story out of it? Like, a long one? Maybe even a book?
-1
☮
Psych-O
Guardian Leader
A C-H-A-I-N Reaction ofCompassion
Whatever floats your boat...Or sinks your Titanic.
Vote for me in the Ekat elections!
Posted at: 5:32 pm on April 18, 2012
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Okay! Thanks, Rebekah!
Here’s my story that I’m replacing from my other non-mystery story! This story is acknowledging 1 of my very best friends, Jessie!
"Can we stop playing dodge ball? It's hurting my abdomen!" cried Steve.
"Don't be such a baby!" I told him.
Then I put my finger to my chin. "But if you do want to stop playing, I guess, why don't we play 'Truth, Dare, or Situation?'"
"Why do we always have to play that?!" he cried.
"Yeah! Let's do it!" cried Ethan.
We left the area and turned down on the street. "Okay, Steve. Truth, dare, or situation?" I asked.
"Truth!" he cried.
"Okay. Which girl do you have a crush on?" I asked.
"Um, I change it to situation!" he cried.
"Wait, that's not fair!" Joshua protested.
"Who cares? I got something better!" I said, winking. "Your friends try and dare you, but each says something different. They say, ‘I dare you to jump off a building,’ ‘I dare you to put yourself in a dumpster,’ and ‘I dare you to go into a wedding shop and say that you want a dress for yourself...’”
Then, I whispered to everyone else, “I think that last one was quite good.”
They nodded.
I continued, “...which dare would you take?”
Steve winced. He did not want to get embarrassed by his friends. Finally, he said, “I would take the last one.”
“Are you kidding me?!"!” Zack cried.
“That would be the last thing I would ever take!!” Ethan said.
“I would take going into the dumpsters!” I said.
“Let’s just play something else!” Steve whined.
“How about ‘Would You Rather?’” Joshua suggested.
“Okay, that’s sounds safer,” Steve said, relieved.
“Would you rather crash your piggy bank on your foot, or would you rather get sucked into a machine?” Joshua asked.
“Get sucked into a machine. It’s cooler,” I instantly said.
“I agree with Jessie,” Zack, Austin, and Ethan said, nodding their heads.
“I’d rather crash my piggy bank on my foot,” Steve said.
I shook my head in dismay.“Steve, you should try stuff. Besides, you don't have to do it! It's just saying whether you'd rather do this or that!" I explained.
As Steve was protesting, we didn’t realize a man coming out of the shadows with a gun. Suddenly, a gun shot through the air. Everybody covered their heads with their hands. We turned to see where the sound came from.
All the boys ran and hid. I took a stick from the floor and aimed it. Then, I threw it like a boomerang and it knocked the gun out of his hand. I ran like the wind and grabbed the gun from the floor. The man saw and ran away. “WHOA!” all the boys cried.
I turned to Steve. “Now, as I was saying...” I told him.
Suddenly, my phone rang. “That must be Mom. I gotta go,” I said, walking away.
I answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hello?” I heard the voice on the other end.
The voice sounded nothing like Mom’s voice. It was manlier, not that Mom’s voice wasn’t already manly. The stranger said, “We need your help, Jessie. Meet us at Attleboro, Massachusetts.”
I just shut off the phone. This was not the first time I had these strange calls.
The next morning, it was another day of school. Breakfast was ready and my backpack was all set to go to school. That was weird. Mom never prepared anything for me, correctly. I went down the stairs.
Nobody was there. This is so weird. Maybe this is just a dream. I will wake up and everything will go back to normal. I pinched myself to make that happen faster.
Nothing happened. That's weird, I thought to myself. I went and explored the house. I went into kitchen and that was when I saw what really happened....
What do you think happened?
nAnCy
✎ Amian Writer ✍
╬ Jesus ☤Freak ╬
Posted at: 6:30 pm on April 18, 2012
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Here's my mystery segment.....
I rock back and forth, my arms hugging my knees as if they can protect me. I know they can’t, nothing can. I try to contemplate what has happened, but I can’t remember much. Like how I got here, a total mystery. This house is not mine, not one I’ve been in before, I’ve never even seen this house . I don’t know where I am I could be in a different country for all I know. All I remember is the past, the horrible, gut-wrenching past. I wish I didn’t remember it, it’s not worth remembering. There’s no one here to talk about it with anyway, I’m the only one left, the only human being left. It all started with The Disease. It killed everyone and everything in its path, not leaving one single living thing behind. If I’d known about this before it happened I would have tried to find a safe-haven. I try to convince myself that there has to be one. One other living person has to be alive somewhere in the world…………………somewhere. I should get up and look around look to see if someone is around, but I can’t all I can do is rock back and forth thinking about the past. I hear a noise. A noise! No one could be alive not after The Disease. I know I’m the only person left. I ran test after test, my advanced technology said no one but I could have survived The Disease. I sit up. I decide to go down. I softly tread down the stairs. When I get to the kitchen I spot the back of someone I know. “Ryker?” I ask. How could he be here, how could he have survived?
Hope I make the first cut!:)
-Topaz
I’maDauntless,Amian,District8 Victor,Daughterof Poseidon,Psycho, andAshley’s Padawan, butmostofallI’mTopaz.
We'll miss you Cailynn, we love you! <3
Posted at: 10:27 pm on April 18, 2012
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"Blame the Innocent not the Guilty"
Prologue
RIP Joy Stone,14
By: Sheila Mercado
Police report that Joy Stone, 14 was found dead in the forest near their village. Stone was reportedly missing for a week before the discovery of her death. “She told us she was just going to the mall…” her mother sobbed. Police are currently doing autopsy on her body, but it is revealed that she was only dead for a day before the discovery of her body and that there was a few knife stabs in her body along with a few unidentified injuries . Her friends remember her as a kind fun-loving person. The whole town remember this student who was always helping her neighbors and the poor. Joy was last seen alive talking to Kevin de Jesus at the mall’s arcade.
She will be dearly missed.
1
“My brother is not guilty!” I screamed. But would anyone listen to me? No. We were playing air hockey at the arcade when Joy came to talk to him. I remember the conversation like it was yesterday…”Hi Kevin! Hi Liam!” said Joy cheerfully. “Hi Joy!” my brother replied. I knew his breathing was going faster by the second. He had a crush on this girl for AGES. “Do you want to see a movie?” she asked. “Sure, when?” my brother said. “How about tomorrow? 5:00?”she eagerly asked. “Sounds great,” my brother said “Meet you at the Food Court?” “Love to,” she replied. Then she was gone. I repeated that story about a thousand times. I was NOT going to let my brother rot in prison for the rest of his life. “Liam,” the police officer said “This is serious business. There’s no use lying to defend your brother.” “I’m telling the truth!” I said exasperated. “I was with him the whole day! If no one believes me then let me go! That’s the truth and I saw it with my own eyes!” I yelled one last time and bolted for the door.
I ran to the scene of the crime. They didn’t find any useful evidence but it never hurt to look. I saw the blood stains left by Joy and I knew I was in the right place. I scanned the area for any clues. There was a glint to my left in the hole of a large tree, about twenty yards away from the scene of the murder. I flashed the light of my key chain’s flashlight on. A bloody knife! I found some evidence to help my brother! I took out the plastic bag of my unfinished sandwich, ready to wrap the knife inside, when I heard the voice. “Well what do I have here,” growled the voice said. But I couldn’t hear more or even see the voice’s owner’s face because I ran away, desperate to not get caught. I will never let anyone get between me and my brother’s one chance of freedom
Well I hope you guys like it! I hope I make it to the next round! Oh, and just in case you need how many words I used, it was 479. BTW the prologue was a newspaper article.
Peace,
Bea
PS I don't know how this happened but when I paste it here and then I preview it the format gets a little messed up so please don't include that at the ratings... I fixed it the best I could...
"We live and breathe words"-Will Herondale
"If no one cares for you at all do you even really exist?"-Tessa Grey
"Heroes endure because we need them. Not for their own sake."-Jem Carstairs
Posted at: 4:04 am on April 20, 2012
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Here's my mystery segment:
I walked into the foster home. This place looked nothing like it should. Foster homes should be colorful, bright, and cheery atleast from the outside, but Krinan Orphanage for mentally disturbed children was none of these things. It's dreary gray like a funeral was happening and the whole area seems to emit a sinister feeling. I walk up to the door and knock several times, the sound boomed. The door opens and a thin, sour face woman answers the door. "We don't need anymore lotto tickets thankyou very much," she says looking at me with a crabby sneer. I bite my lip.
"Um... I'm from the Children's Humane Society," I say. She suddenly gives me an animated grin.
"Oh, I'm quiet sorry it's just those pesky door-to-door salesmen come around so often," she says breezily inviting me in. The inside is no better than the outside. Everything is made various shades of gray and black.
"Interesting color scheme," I comment idly.
"Oh yes of course," she says taking me to a small desk in the side of the room.
"Who would you like to see today ma'am?" she asks taking out a clipboard.
"Um... Anna Marie Fletcher," I say uncertainly. I hadn't memorized her lastname that much it might have been something else, but the woman nods.
"Anna Marie, room 3A you can't miss it her name is written on the door." she says. I nod and stand up start walking up to the rickety staircase. Up to the third floor. I walk over to the door mark 3A and the name Anna Marie is written in neat cursive under it. I knock on the door and walk in. The girl Anna Marie is sitting on her bed, her coffee brown hair is combed back into a neat ponytail, but the rest of her is ragged. Her green eyes have circles under them, her cheeks are shallow, her face gaunt, her head between her knees, and arms wrapped around her legs. I walk over to her and sit on the edge of her bed. "What do you want?" she asks suspicously.
"I'm here to help you," I whisper.
"They won't let you help us," she says suddenly, her voice dead.
"Who won't let me? Why?" I ask her.
"The housekeepers won't let you, they use us, the hurt us," Anna Marie says panic rising in her voice.
"Anna Marie don't worry I'll help you," I whisper clasping her hands in my own. She smiles at me some desperate hope lighting up her eyes. Then her eyes roll back into her head, and she thumps back on the bed like she's been tazered, she lies there for a minute twitching and then the same woman comes in.
"You need to leave now miss," she says forcefully grabbing me by the arm.
~Lillybeth
A Writer~ I believe words spur action
A Reader~I believe the words unspoken are the most important
A Dreamer~ I believe the higher your goals the higher your star will rise
Posted at: 8:32 am on April 20, 2012
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The feirce winds howled through the air of the cold, dark winter night. A horse coach raced through the blizzard as fast as thunder. The coach kept cracking the whip, willing the horses to run faster. Just then, a wild growl, broke through the howling winds. Two red, dark, glowing eyes appeared from the shadows, then, the thing's teeth and claws stuck.
Leah awoke from the nightmare with a start...The man looked familiar, it couldn't be? Could it?
No, not her dad...impossible!
But alas, nothing is impossible, in this strange world...
Something happened on that night...Something that the world has been to afraid to see...
Was immortality real?
Were beasts?
If so, was there such a thing as imposibility?
Yeah, sorry, I just found the thread today!!! It's kind of short...But I plan on writing more next topic...If I make it.
hLeah g
Awesome just got Re-VampedTM
S.M.A.R.T
-Zombie Apopcalypse Defense Squad-
Vampires do NOT sparkle.
(|-||)- Elysian Council,1647. Z
[Aeg&$
Bye... T,..,T
Posted at: 2:38 pm on April 20, 2012
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No, if that story doesn't live up to expectations...and I know it doesn't...I am going to post something else!
hLeah g
Awesome just got Re-VampedTM
S.M.A.R.T
-Zombie Apopcalypse Defense Squad-
Vampires do NOT sparkle.
(|-||)- Elysian Council,1647. Z
[Aeg&$
Bye... T,..,T
Posted at: 2:41 pm on April 20, 2012
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