Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Moat's Random Tales Of Mystery And Horror

Here is just one of my stories. Hope ya like. Any criticism must be constructive please(i.e. meh don't really like it doesn't describe the setting) that would help me make it better. Comments like "That sucks!" will not be tolerated.
But I might just let "That rules!" get by me...lol

The Darkness Of Daniel Cooper

"Hey Tom, why don't you tell us a ghost story?" said Jimmy, trying to warm his hands at the campfire. He didn't really trust Tom. They had found him in the woods, wandering, completely lost, a few hours prior. Their cell phones didn't get reception here, and they had no means of leaving(their parents would pick them up tomorrow) so they decided to let him stay with them for the night.
"Yeah Tom, I'm not really good at that kinda thing," agreed Mike. He shifted on the rough log he had chosen to sit on. He half-wished that they had chosen to go with his little sister and mom trick-or-treating instead of going on the Halloween camping trip at Lake Kalakaua. Erica might annoy him, but at least home was warm and not at all frightening. Something felt off about these woods they were camped in. He rubbed his silver cross necklace. His grandma had told him it was made of pure silver. Rubbing it always comforted him.
"Fine," said the lanky figure on the far left. The firelight illuminated his thin, pale face. His eyes almost seemed to glow. Add to that the fact that he was dressed all in black and had close cropped black hair, made him downright creepy. And then he began to talk, in the frightening, low whisper he reserved for ghost stories. It was hypnotizing.

"In the late 1700s, there was a boy who was drowned in a lake shore far from home. His name was Daniel Cooper, and he was only 13. Nobody investigated the case, because he'd been born on a Halloween, on a Friday. At that time, of course, superstition was at its' all-time high, so everyone in the small villa he lived in assumed he'd dabbled in witchcraft and so, didn't care about him. The constable said it was an accidental drowning, and everyone let it go without another thought. The next Halloween, however, Cooper took matters into his own hands, desperate to bring the people who drowned him to justice. He finally gathered the strength to speak to the people. He told them who his killers were. However, the townsfolk, still being superstitious, hailed the murderers as heroes for killing a demon. This infuriated Cooper. He again spoke to them, Halloween the next year. This time, he warned them to serve justice, or he would reap his revenge. Being frightened, the people went to the local priest. He promised them that he would protect them from Cooper, and told them not to obey him. They believed him. The local "witch hunters", the people who had killed Cooper, were now being avoided largely. They became rather sick of this. The next Halloween, Cooper swore to take his revenge on his murderers, and all the people who had let them get away. By this time, he had grown very strong. He caused plagues, droughts, and famines to come to the town all year. Finally, on the next Halloween, the desperate townsfolk pleaded and begged for Cooper to make it stop. They took the murderers and publicly executed them. But Cooper, who had developed an evil side, continued with the natural disasters anyway. Finally, the priest took action. He banished Cooper, and for almost 100 years Cooper remained dormant, unable to do anything. But then, some foolish girl who had got it in her head that she was a witch, tried to summon Cooper. She failed, but she cut herself on the knife she was using. A single drop of blood fell. This gave Cooper all his power back. He then became corrupted and hungry for power.He killed the girl and took her blood. This continued for years, until finally Cooper realized what he had been doing. He controlled himself. He took blood only once a year, on Halloween, simply to keep himself alive. But slowly, as the fertile soil the village was built on transformed into harsh mountain and woods terrain. It was unfit to live on anymore, so the residents moved away, and Cooper's power began to fade. Years later, it is rumored that he still remains."
Mike shivered, but Jimmy cheered.
"That was, without doubt, the best ghost story I've ever heard! What do you think, Mike?" Jimmy said
"It...was ok," Mike said. The ghost story had really spooked him.
"Oh. Are you scared, bro? Come on. You're scared of a ghost story? You have to look at your little sister Erica's face every day, a task that would reduce most people to whimpering in a corner, but we come across a moderately scary ghost story and you shiver?" Jimmy said
"It was really frightening," Michael said, shaking his head.
"Just remember it's not real, Mike," said Jimmy
"Oh no, this one's real," said Tom.
"Pfft. Sure," said Jimmy disbelievingly.
"It's true," said Tom. Mike tried to elbow Jimmy to stop, but Jimmy wouldn't back down.
"Uh-huh. How would you know?" Jimmy asked.
"Because I'm Daniel Cooper," growled Tom. Then he disappeared.

The next morning, when Jimmy's and Mike's parents came to pick them up, all they found at their campsite was a silver cross necklace, covered with blood.

Ashes In The Wind

David slouched miserably on his hard cot. It had been just over a week since Abraham's death, and he still couldn't get over it. The look of his best friend since birth lying on his deathbed,pale, shivering, sweating, too weakened by typhoid fever to even raise his hand or speak a single syllable, still cut him to the core. He recalled how full of life and energy Abraham had been, bright blue eyes and unruly brown hair. He'd always been so energetic and humorous. David had felt nothing when the Gestapo had beaten him for trying to keep them from Abraham's body, trying to save his best friend from being reduced to ashes that would blow away in the wind, forgotten, just like his family. No. He had felt such emotional pain that physical pain seemed like a brush of the wind. Ah, the wind. He missed the sweet scent of the spring wind, carrying with it the faint whistle of birds and the sweet smell of flowers and grasses soon to come. But he hadn't smelled that in years, since the Gestapo came and dragged all the Jews to the concentration camps. There, only sweat, blood, and tears could be smelled, and sometimes the harsh, revolting scent of bodies being burned. And no, he didn't hate the Nazis for what they had done. He had hated them for a very long time, until the deaths began. Then David cried and cried, until he had simply cried himself out and had no more tears and no more emotion. He was just numb, a void shell of the boy he'd once been. His pale face was smudged with so much soot and dirt that skin was difficult to see. And what you could see was black and blue from numerous beatings. His eyes were red and dull. He had no one and nothing left in this world. He knew he belonged in a better place. The afterlife? No. Only Hell would take him now.

The next morning, David awoke as usual and went to work. He could see the Nazis, eating, drinking, and laughing in their room. Then, they all left. But wait! One of them had left his sidearm on the table. David felt alive for the first time in years. He felt alive. David snuck into the room and stole the gun. He knew he would be killed. But that was what he longed for. He left the building. Then, he slowly pointed the gun at a Nazi's back. He wanted blood. He began to pull the trigger, when suddenly, a white hand stopped him. He turned, aghast, to see his family and Abraham, gathered behind him. They stepped up, their opalescent bodies shimmering in the scorching sun.He saw a flash of memories that weren't his. They belonged to the Nazi he'd been about to kill. He saw a family, and fear when the Fuhrer had announced drafting for the Second Great War would commence. Then, the memories blurred together and was lost.
"Don't kill..." said his family "Just wait..." their whispers echoed in David's mind. Then they blew away, like their ashes in the wind. David returned the gun to its place and went back to work with no one being the wiser.
The next day, David overheard the Nazi whose gun he had stolen talking. He said that his gun had been ruined with sand in it in the last battle, and had anyone attempted to fire it, it would've exploded in their faces. Just a few hours later, the Soviets came and rescued the Jews from their prison. The Jews joyfully burned the concentration camp down to the ground.
And David watched, as the ashes flew away into the wind.

I am disturbedrulz on Quizilla.com, and that's where I write my songs. Here's my profile on Quizilla. You can access my songs from here.

http://www.quizilla.com/my/profile

http://www.quizilla.com/user/disturbedrulz/




I am disturbedrulz on Quizilla.com, and that's where I write my songs. Here's my profile on Quizilla. You can access my songs from here. Let's see if this one will work(just ignore my last comment)


http://www.quizilla.com/user/disturbedrulz/

Aww nobody's commented.

Shadow of the Past- Sneak Preview

The party was the best we had seen in a long, long time. Of course, that was before IT showed up.

Well, I might be cursed. Or maybe I'm just dreaming, or crazy. But it had looked so real! What if IT was real? What if that thing really was telling the truth?

The ghastly white figure stared at us with glowing red eyes. I couldn't look away as it approached, claws outstretched.

Then I noticed the child. It wasn't really a child, more of a teenager, but still much younger than I. It couldn't have been more than 13 or 14, probably younger. But its' eyes, its' cold, gray eyes were the giveaway. This was no mere human.

c-c-c-combo breaker!

Anyway, your stories aren't bad, though I can tell you're new to the art - quite new. You seem to still describe and give details when they're not needed a bit too often, something pretty much every writer does when said writer is new to writing - try using stronger nouns & verbs so you won't have to use adverbs or adjectives so frequently. But it's a natural mistake - one that most, if not all, new writers make.

Ok I'll try. Thanks alt. My first commenter! Yippee!

Uh yeah I am kinda a writing newbie...the only other time I've really written was when my fifth grade teacher assigned it to me as homework...57 pages in a week...my writing ability had never felt so rushed. Actually, those old stories can be accessed. They just have a few flaws in the copying of them. I pasted them onto something other than Microsoft Word...mistake.

But looking at disturbedrulz you can view my MegaGreen story!

I don't really like this one as much as my others, but...

The Guilty Will Pay

The young Confederate private bowed his head in sorrow as he followed his company through the body-strewn battle field on his Appaloosa. Private Franklin Brand had been drafted and trained less than a week before he saw his first battle, and the poor lad wasn't prepared for the bloodbath he saw. His company rode into their station just a few hours later. Brand had always been kind and friendly, to all. The intelligent young man had a bright future ahead of him. But after the battle, he became a downright recluse. His best friend was still on the battlefield, and wouldn't get up. He'd had enough of this. He wanted his revenge. And he would get it.

Brand became hellbent on revenge. He trained and worked harder than any other soldier. The time he wasn't training or working, he spent simply sitting on the porch, staring into the sunset with darkened eyes. And he became accustomed to pain and death. They were his friends now, the fuel for the fire that raged within Franklin Brand. And naught could stop him. He advanced quickly, first to sergeant, then lieutenant, and finally, as captain, he got his own regiment. He didn't care about them. He cared about results, killing Yankees. He became drunk with power. The once-handsome and friendly boy who had been taken from his home to the army became the dark, power-corrupted, half-insane recluse; Captain Franklin Brand. And yet, he seemed invincible.

Soon after that, Brand received orders from General Lee. Take your men to the east coast and trap the Yankees in a bottleneck. Destroy the force before it can reach the new battlefield. So he took his men, in the dead of winter, through snow blocked mountain passes to carry out these orders. Several of them had to have fingers and toes amputated due to frostbite. Afterwards, they reached the position. They waited and waited for the Yanks to come. Brand became impatient. He had a taste for blood that needed to be satisfied. He ordered them to attack, go after the Union. They obeyed. The result was a total disaster. It had been an ambush. And the entire regiment he had been given was killed. He hastily retreated, and escaped unscathed. To keep his rank and his power, Brand lied to the General. He knew that it was his impatience that had killed the soldiers, so he said that the Yanks had simply beaten them by pure force and that the survivors had been killed by a blizzard in the mountains. The General let him off. He remained a captain.
The next day, Franklin Brand had disappeared. Search parties were sent everywhere, combing nearby hills and bunkers, but could find no trace of Franklin Brand. Weeks later, Captain Franklin Brand was posted as AWOL(Absent WithOut Leave)and dishonorably discharged from the Confederate Army. After that, everyone assumed that the Indians had gotten him during the night, and the search was abandoned.
But almost a decade later, scientists were digging around old Civil War battlefields to discover new things. And they unearthed something very odd. They found an entire regiment buried in one place, and although regiments can all die in a battle, this was special. Because every single soldier was in pristine condition, as if they had died just moments ago. And on each and every one of their faces, even if they had died a horrible, gruesome death, was a smile, and open eyes. And buried in the center of the battlefield was Captain Franklin Brand's body, still as though he'd just been alive moments ago. And carved on his forehead, as though with a knife, was " crimen mos persolvo."

For those of you who didn't pay attention in Latin class, crimen mos persolvo means "the guilty will pay" in Latin. Well, to be precise, I guess it means "the guilt will to unloose". But I didn't REALLY pay attention in Latin class. I meant the guilty will pay.

Ghastly Protector
Nic was unhappy. Again. Why? Because his parents had decided they were moving to a new town, far away from all his friends. And despite all his pleading, they didn't listen to him when he wanted to stay. So much for democracy. He was supposed to be packing his bags, but if his parents wanted to move so badly, then they could pack the bags! Nic threw his suitcase onto his bed angrily and stomped into the kitchen, which, of course, was table-less. He grabbed his MP3 and put it into his studded ears. He saw no need to listen to the shouting which would occur as soon as his parents saw him. Nic's black hair covered the earphones, playing music as Nic reflected. His parents had said he would make new friends...but he didn't believe them. He didn't want to be friends with some country bumpkin geekoid.

Hours later, the Allisons were driving down the road. The snow drifting down covered the road. Nic was still in trouble for the packing thing, and so, was stuck in the backseat with the luggage. The fourteen-year old sighed as they pulled up at their new house. It was on top of a hill, and it looked pretty nice, actually. Big, white, beautiful. And in pristine condition.Nic still wasn't impressed. He didn't want to live in this dumb rural town just so they could "be closer" to his grandparents. They only lived a few...hundred miles away from them! Who cared about visiting some old geezers anyway?

On Monday, 8:00 sharp, Nic was sent off to school wearing a sweater vest, tie, black pants, and shiny shoes. At 12:00 sharp, Nic walked into school wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. The whole class turned around and stared. Nic did profiles of each of them. He was hyper observant, which meant he noticed tiny details other people would miss, in just seconds. Bumpkin, wearing straw hat. Slob, sniffing her own armpit. Bumpkin, bumpkin, bumpkin, idiot, thief, slob...wait, who is that? Thought Nic. He looks pretty cool. Red t-shirt,black leather jacket, jeans. Spiky hair. Hmm, maybe this won't be such a waste after all. Nic sat down at his desk and rolled his eyes as the teacher began his lesson. Teacher's colorblind...and an idiot, thought Nic, looking at the teacher's shoes, one red, one green.

Finally, school was over. Nic had made a pal out of the only cool kid in his class. Nic was going to be trying him out for guitar, as he played the drums and wanted to start a band. Well, he was going to try anyway. Smith, the other kid, was actually pretty good. Smith wanted a band too, so they agreed to look for a bassist.

Nic went home after that, and skipped dinner. He went straight to bed, but for some reason couldn't fall asleep. He lay awake until midnight. He thought he saw, with the corner of his eye, a flicker of shadow, but dismissed it. He couldn't have seen anything. Creaks and groans started, but he ignored that too. And then he swore he saw, a white figure drifting down the hall. But he ignored that too.
Nic didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning, Nic, although thinking he was checking into the Wacko Shack, asked Smith if there was a history to his house. Smith flinched, and said no. Nic decided to look into it himself...which meant doing something ugly. Going into the local library.

Hours and headaches later, Nic knew that there was indeed a history behind the house. Apparently, about 50 years ago, a young man by the name of Noah Castrell had built the house by himself, to try and win over a girl. He'd gone deeply into debt doing so. But the girl was already engaged. Castrell had committed suicide. There was also a child death, baby had drowned in the bath tub because the mother had left him unattended. Karl Smith was the boy's name. That had happened about 13 years ago. Now, was his house really haunted, or was he really losing his marbles? Thought Nic.

The next night, Nic was kept awake by noises and shadows coming through his house. He decided to explore this time. He grabbed a heavy, powerful flashlight and went through the house. He saw the cause of all the trouble. A white apparition appeared. Very tall, good-looking young guy. Red rope-burns all around the neck. Nic recognized him from the photos in the library. Noah Castrell. Then, Castrell disappeared. Nic started to go back in his room. He felt invisible hands around his neck. Choking him. He gasped and struggled to breathe. Then, the doorbell rang loudly, and the pressure disappeared.

Nic, holding his flashlight high above his head and ready to strike, went downstairs. He slowly cracked the door open.
"Hey man! It's Smith. Open the door," said a voice outside the door. Gulping, Nic opened the door the rest of the way. He saw the sun coming up, and saw Smith standing outside. He realized it was morning. He must've stayed up all night again.
"Hey, Nic, you told me to come get you so you would have an excuse not to take your little sister. Remember?" said Smith.
"Right..."Nic said. He did remember that. "Just give me a sec to get ready."

Later, Nic swore he saw Smith flickering as they walked to school. He gulped, and gripped the holy water he had taken with him. His father was a pastor, so it was pretty easy. He flicked the water on Smith. Smith screamed and gripped his shoulder. Black, sulfur-scented smoke curled up from his shoulder, which was melting. Smith swore(a word I can't repeat on AG)and groaned to Nic:
"I saved you...from Castrell and that's what you do to me? I haven't done anything...wrong. Holy water...burns. Like acid. I am Karl Smith, you know. I helped you. Saved your life. And...I age. I grow old. And I have spent the entire time that I have...been a ghost saving people's lives from Castrell...and now you burn me," groaned Kurt, pausing at regular intervals to gasp. He then disappeared.

Oops I meant Karl not Kurt. My bad...

I like your stories!! very good!!