If I knew any better, I mean any better I would not have called it 'Krizaz's Krud' but I mean to be truthful since people notices the differences before the similarities. Here I put whatever the hell is on my creative mind, sad to say but my mind is a bit naughty but I'll not be putting up stuff like that! I could of called it Krizaz's Kreative Krap, but the K.K.K. abbreviation don't look so good now does it?
Fridg's University
A horror story
By: Krizaz (I have a real name just not gonna say it)
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Hello. As any books or story's go the first word is 'Hello' or 'Hi' or 'the first thing I noticed...'. How 'bout we scratch the 'Hello' part and just start off like this...
When I had just found out that I had been accepted into Fidg's University I had not been so proud in my life, I had bragged non-stop to my brother, who had though he would get accepted into college first, much to his surprise. My father died for an unknown reason, when I was about 14. My mother hated me, she had hated me since the day I was born my father used to say. I never knew why though, and whenever I asked her, she started cussin' and swearin' like the day don't die. So that's how I lived, a dead father, a hating mother, and a brother who's ego had drowned him in his own ocean.
My mother never once did congratulate me, she didn't even clap when I got my diploma from HighSchool. Did I forget to mention she was also a major alcoholic? My brother never gave his money to my mom, knowing she would just drink it away. Somehow she always got some money from me, usually by screaming and yelling at how much of a pathetic failure I was until I gave in. She was something horrible an she still is. It's not until you hear about my father that you get to brighten up a bit, but I'm not getting to him just yet. My Brother ego acceded any others, he had bragged all his life he would be rich and famous, I"m pretty sure this is cause he wanted to get out of the house as quick as possible. He still has a huge ego but that has been diminished a bit by the fact that he works at a Gas Station. He's never tried beating me, or sworn and screamed at me, I actually think he felt sorry for me in my early years, that quickly diminished as I reached the age where I could remember things (About 4).
My father's a different story, true he died before I was 16, but he was always a extremely kind and helpful man, he always kept ma under control when she comes back from the pub too. I still don't know why he died, ma says I don't deserve to know, and my brother doesn't know either (I assume cause ma would gut him if he did). My pa never did hurt me, but he never was a type of father that let me do anything.
Fridg's University looked like any university, I was lucky enough to have a dorm room too, although I shared it with the biggest idiot in school. I don't care to mention what my masters was, partly cause my ma would curse an swear on how idiotic it was. The first thing I noticed is that the professor had a small collection of shrunken heads, I was a bit unnerved out by this, especially when the shrunken heads seemed to blink. My roommate thought I was crazy, and a lot of the other students though I was a delusional psychopath, I don't like when they call me that. I never noticed anything weird about the professor until he called me after class one day.
"Paul, come here for a moment." He said in a rather normal voice I might add despite the shrunken heads.
Paul's my name if you didn't catch it, my pa picked out the name cause he was afraid if ma did it would be something like "Idiot-boy" or "Looser", I like my name cause of that.
"Yeah?" I said, kind of out of it, my mind more on the party tonight (Did I mention I had a social life?)
"I've noticed you...Looking at my shrunken heads collection during class, also you shivering in your seat, fidgeting, an possible fantasizing...?" He asked.
Now saying that I was fantasizing during class was going a but too far, if he called it 'day-dreaming' I wouldn't care much. But he called it fantasizing, which for me was true.
"Er... yea..." I sad cautiously "The heads are kind of creepy, I don't see shrunken heads often, and you might think I'm crazy but it seems as though, they blink."
He mocked and laughed at me for the next 5 minutes. I don't like when people do that.
When I left his room I didn't feel much better. I decided to just go to the football game after that. Better that than go to a party and get a massive hangover. As annoyed as I was by the cheerleaders chant I found the football game enjoying. Although I could have sworn I saw a shrunken head on my left and right through the last bit of seeing range of my eyes. The football game cost me, but they would have charged me at the party too. The Fidggers won the game, much to my surprise cause were the worst 3rd division team in the country.
It was still early, if you consider 8 o'clock early. So I decided to head to my dorm, and still, I could have sworn I was seeing shrunken heads again. I didn't have a very good nights sleep so I decided not to go to class. So instead I went to my job as a mechanic (Yes, I have a job). I didn't see any more shrunken heads that day. I'm not sure why though.
If you say that I'm crazy I'm not. I know I saw about 20 shrunken heads laughing at me through the window, only disappearing when I looked directly at them. The professor decided to send me to the university's psychiatrist.
"Tell me about your family, Paul." Shary said. She was a very nice lady during the normal school day, but nobody, and I mean nobody likes to go to the psychiatrist.
"I have a pa that's dead, a mother who hates me, and a brother who has a enormous ego" I answered. She started scribbling down the stuff I wouldn't care to know.
"Okay, do you have any pets, Paul?" She asked. Why do psychiatrist have to ask so many questions?
"I had a goldfish when I was 9." I answered yet again, she didn't scribble stuff down this time.
"Your professor says your fidgeting during class, why is this, Paul? She asked. Why's she always got to say ,y name after every statement?
"Well, I keep thinking shrunken heads are everywhere, and they turn up everywhere too." I answered. She scribbled down stuff for a long time.
"Do you think your social life has anything to do with this, Paul?" She asked. I swear her voice is getting sweeter every time she ask, I also think she's mocking me.
"No, unless you count having the biggest idiot for a roommate." I answered, I was getting tired of answering so many useless questions, and my neck was getting swore on top of that.
"Okay, Paul. Please come and see me next week." She said.
I was relieved to get out of that stuffy, cold room. When I got back to my dorm I saw my roommate dressed up in a spider-man costume. Then I saw the empty 12 pack of beer. I quickly disposed of the left-over cans and other beer related stuff. And I shoved my roommate out of the room. I slouched down in a love-seat my roommate bought, and he swore he would kill me if I ever sat in it (It's my 6th time sitting in it). I opened up my closet which had 1 tie, 3 short-sleeve shirts, 2 long-sleeve shirts, and 2 pairs of pants. I shoved aside some clothing, maybe there was something almost clean behind it.
"Holy Sh*t!" I screamed. There was a cheerleaders head, wrapped in barbwire with a gag in her mouth. I closed the closet as quick as possible and threw up in the nearest garbage can.
I heard a knock on the door. I didn't do anything. I was laying dumbly on my dorm bed. The door opened. It was the biology professor.
"Have you seen a cheerleader named Angelina Hamshir?" He asked. I could tell he knew I saw a ghost.
All I did was concentrate on breathing.
He asked again.
"Now I was working on sitting up-right.
"Sir, are you alright?" He asked
All I did was breathe.
He came into my dorm, the first thing he saw was the vomit filled trash can. The second thing he was was the propped-open door (I could have sworn I slammed it shut). He went over to the closet, opened it, and feinted.
I couldn't let him think I did it, so I dragged him under my bed, making sure he couldn't get out (I'm sorry, but they might think I did it).
The door was slowly creaking open. I saw a bloodied fingers, then a hand, then a cut open arm. There was blood everywhere. Next thing I saw was his face, his face, too, wraped in barbwire, but instead of a gag he had a rope with broken glass taped to it in his mouth. I recognized him as a student that had called me delusional.
"Please," I begged "don't so this, I haven't done anything" It kept coming. There was a ax in his right hand. He was dripping blood everywhere. I tried to back up, but I felt the cold, hard metal of another ax. The cold hard metal of an ax...
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Fun story eh? I think of more later. Not all the same though. I might also make up some poems too, but I ain't too good at it and it'll probably be more short stories.
I wouldn't mind if you were critics about this story, actually, I would appreciate it.
