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Imagine yourself as the Sandman. If you could see into someone else's dream, what would you see?
Written by ruffmiriam in portal Dreams

Like Grains of Sand

Sleep, children, sleep. They do, but some of their dreams trail behind me like wisps of choking gas. There’s Bennie who sees the monsters hiding underneath his bed and wakes up in a cold sweat every day. There’s Casey whose visions are overlaid with the sound of her parents’ arguments in the next room. And there’s Annie, whose mother died last year and whose father enters her room and startles her awake with promises of all the fun they’ll have together. For these, bedtime is a horror. Sometimes I really hate my job.

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Imagine yourself as the Sandman. If you could see into someone else's dream, what would you see?
Written by ruffmiriam in portal Dreams
Like Grains of Sand
Sleep, children, sleep. They do, but some of their dreams trail behind me like wisps of choking gas. There’s Bennie who sees the monsters hiding underneath his bed and wakes up in a cold sweat every day. There’s Casey whose visions are overlaid with the sound of her parents’ arguments in the next room. And there’s Annie, whose mother died last year and whose father enters her room and startles her awake with promises of all the fun they’ll have together. For these, bedtime is a horror. Sometimes I really hate my job.

#horror  #prose  #challenge  #amwriting 
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Written by EBJohnson in portal Fiction

A Bit of Dialogue

"Are you there, my love?" she whispered into the darkness. His footsteps hammered in the early morning silence. 

"I am," he whispered back, his footfall slowing to stop somewhere just beyond the edge of the darkness. 

Alise struggled to rise from the bed but found herself paralyzed. 

"My love," she croaked. "I...I...I'm afraid I cannot rise to meet you." 

"That's okay," he said back to her quietly. He breathed heavily from his spot across the room, but he did not draw any closer to the edge of the bed where even now his wife lay dying. 

Alise took a deep breath and let her head fall softly to the side of the warm pillow beneath her head. Her faded blue eyes searched the darkness for his face, but all she could make out was shadow. "Have you come to kiss me goodbye?" she asked hopefully. 

He met her question with a long silence before finding the words. 

"I am come to tender you my goodbyes, yes." He told her wearily, the words trailing off into another bloom of awkward silence. Only her heavy breath issued a sound between them. 

When her breathing had slowed she spoke again. This time her words were much weaker, almost far away. 

"I have always loved you, you know." She told the shade as she began to slide into the darkness. "Even from the beginning. Even when you did not love me." 

He sighed loudly, but did not speak, so she went on. 

"Even when you looked for her, and even when you found her. Even then I loved you."

"I know," he said after a long pause. She head him fidget anxiously. "But you are going somewhere that I cannot, my love." 

For a long while, neither one of them spoke. Alise struggled to find her breath, which was coming even shallower and more erratic now. She shivered, and her emaciated frame trembled beneath the thick, woolen covers. When she tried to speak again, she found that her voice had left her. The room began to spin as she slipped away from him. 

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered as he evaporated into the darkness of the hall beyond. "Pourriez-vous profiter du paradis pendant que je reste ici dans cet enfer."

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Written by EBJohnson in portal Fiction
A Bit of Dialogue
"Are you there, my love?" she whispered into the darkness. His footsteps hammered in the early morning silence. 

"I am," he whispered back, his footfall slowing to stop somewhere just beyond the edge of the darkness. 

Alise struggled to rise from the bed but found herself paralyzed. 

"My love," she croaked. "I...I...I'm afraid I cannot rise to meet you." 

"That's okay," he said back to her quietly. He breathed heavily from his spot across the room, but he did not draw any closer to the edge of the bed where even now his wife lay dying. 

Alise took a deep breath and let her head fall softly to the side of the warm pillow beneath her head. Her faded blue eyes searched the darkness for his face, but all she could make out was shadow. "Have you come to kiss me goodbye?" she asked hopefully. 

He met her question with a long silence before finding the words. 

"I am come to tender you my goodbyes, yes." He told her wearily, the words trailing off into another bloom of awkward silence. Only her heavy breath issued a sound between them. 

When her breathing had slowed she spoke again. This time her words were much weaker, almost far away. 

"I have always loved you, you know." She told the shade as she began to slide into the darkness. "Even from the beginning. Even when you did not love me." 

He sighed loudly, but did not speak, so she went on. 

"Even when you looked for her, and even when you found her. Even then I loved you."

"I know," he said after a long pause. She head him fidget anxiously. "But you are going somewhere that I cannot, my love." 

For a long while, neither one of them spoke. Alise struggled to find her breath, which was coming even shallower and more erratic now. She shivered, and her emaciated frame trembled beneath the thick, woolen covers. When she tried to speak again, she found that her voice had left her. The room began to spin as she slipped away from him. 

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered as he evaporated into the darkness of the hall beyond. "Pourriez-vous profiter du paradis pendant que je reste ici dans cet enfer."


#fiction  #romance  #horror 
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Trident Media Group is the leading U.S. literary agency and we are looking to discover and represent the next bestsellers. Share a sample of your work. If it shows promise, we will be in touch with you.
Written by H_Fields in portal Trident Media Group

Remember Me

An eerie silence blanketed the house, erasing any sign of the previous day’s activities. Friends, family, and neighbors had been in and out of the home offering their condolences. Olivia couldn’t help but muse at what a spectacle it had been as she paced the now empty hallways. Her mother had spent the morning prior cleaning the house from top to bottom. She was never good at sitting still when her emotions began to take over. Her father was no better. For every minute he was sitting, he was standing again, straightening and re-straightening the multitude of family portraits that lined the living room walls. Unlike her parents, however, Olivia preferred to stay out of sight. Silence and solitude were her primary comforts, especially when the air around her felt suffocatingly tense.

Her parents seemed to relax once her brother Antonio arrived. Handsome and charming, he was the type that could brighten up any room with a simple hello. The moment he walked through the door their mother was hovering over him asking about his drive from Boston and if he had bothered to eat within the last 24 hours. That’s how she was, their mother, overprotective to the point of exhaustion. Thankfully their father was the opposite. Preferring to keep up his strong exterior, he hung back until he could wrap Antonio in a bearlike embrace. Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she watched from afar. Love, despite its many faces, made itself well-known in this family.

Being only two years apart, Olivia and Antonio were no strangers to the pangs of sibling nuances. From shouting matches to developing new ways to annoy each other, the pair fit the generic label of brother and sister. Between all of the quarrels there were also moments of friendship. As they grew older, Olivia and Antonio developed a close bond. There were many nights where they would stay up until the wee hours of the morning laughing while sharing their dreams and aspirations. It was nice, Olivia thought, to have a friend like Antonio. He wasn’t just her brother, but he was her biggest fan. She was lonely when he left for college, but she was meant to join him in Boston next year. That was, before everything changed.

Olivia shook her head in an effort to rid herself from the sadness beginning to pool in the back of her mind. In her absentminded state she had wandered into the kitchen. Dirty glassware and crumb littered dessert plates had been left forgotten along the white marble countertops. The sight seemed almost alien in the normally tidy room. Had it been another time, Olivia's mother would have protested leaving even one dish until the next day. Emotional turmoil has no room for everyday chores, Olivia thought.

She reached for a glass but it slipped from her hands and shattered against the hardwood floor, tiny shards exploding in all directions. Despite the noise it made, no one came running to investigate. No one would. Olivia was alone now. In a way, she felt like the glass. One moment she was a pristine object full of purpose, the next she was broken mess strewn across a cold floor.

Leaving the destruction behind, Olivia made her way to the living room. She thought back to yesterday, to all of the people dressed in black. Olivia's mother had said it would be better for everyone to come to their home from the cemetery. What a gloomy affair it was. The sky had been overcast but the rain never came no matter how hard she wished for it. She wanted a flood to come and wash everyone away. The teary eyed faces and the stale reverberation of empty prayers had made her stomach churn. Theatrics never sat well with her in these circumstances. Though some may have been genuine, most would have forgotten their sorrow by today.

Her eyes drifted to the family portraits on the wall. Each smiling face looked back at her with empty eyes. She wanted to rip them apart and scratch out their faces. The longer she stood in the stillness being watched, a deep rage built up within her. These photographs were memories that would come to haunt her, to haunt her family. They were remnants of a happiness she'd never experience again. The walls were closing in on her fast. She needed an escape from this new reality.

With a sudden urgency Olivia turned on her heel and ran from the living room, up a steep wooden staircase, and toward her bedroom. She refused to go inside for days, but she needed to remember. She needed to remember so she could find her way out. As she reached her bedroom door, Olivia stopped. Dread begin to rise in her chest. Something felt wrong. A voice within her pleaded for her not to go inside, but she ignored it. With a trembling hand she turned the knob and stepped inside.

At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. Her bright blue bedding was tidy and neatly made. Posters of her favorite rock bands and photographs of her friends lined the walls. Her books stood in neat rows on her shelf. A stained glass wind chime hung by her window reflecting a spectrum of color across the beige carpeted floor. Olivia let out a sigh of relief. She wanted to laugh at herself until something in the corner of the room caught her eye. Her back stiffened but she moved closer. A wheelchair and an oxygen tank met her gaze. Then it came to her.

She remembered months of being sick and the diagnosis: stage four ovarian cancer. At only eighteen her life was over. Her parents refused to believe it. She was too young, they said. Olivia remembered being forced to see a handful of doctors before it was made clear that she was running out of time. Chemotherapy had only stalled things for a few months before she didn't have the energy to go on. Her parents wanted her to fight be she only wanted to sleep. She was tired. That's when she made the decision to slip away one night during a rare moment she was alone. What felt like a deep sleep was interrupted by the wailing of her mother, but, when Olivia woke, she was on the outside looking in. Olivia’s mother and father held tightly to her frail body while she watched from the end of the bed. The grief was too much.

Since that day Olivia had been wandering the household. Watching. With each passing day she had forgotten a little more of herself. Olivia screamed loudly and began to tear posters from her wall. She threw pillows across the room and flung her books from their shelves. She took the wind chime from its hook and smashed it against the window, both breaking with a loud crash. This is why she had kept away. The foreboding feeling had tried to warn her. If only she had listened to the remaining traces of who she used to be. She cried out again and again knowing the cycle would continue until there was nothing left of her. From this moment on she would be a prisoner left to haunt dirty corners while everything she ever loved left her behind.

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Trident Media Group is the leading U.S. literary agency and we are looking to discover and represent the next bestsellers. Share a sample of your work. If it shows promise, we will be in touch with you.
Written by H_Fields in portal Trident Media Group
Remember Me
An eerie silence blanketed the house, erasing any sign of the previous day’s activities. Friends, family, and neighbors had been in and out of the home offering their condolences. Olivia couldn’t help but muse at what a spectacle it had been as she paced the now empty hallways. Her mother had spent the morning prior cleaning the house from top to bottom. She was never good at sitting still when her emotions began to take over. Her father was no better. For every minute he was sitting, he was standing again, straightening and re-straightening the multitude of family portraits that lined the living room walls. Unlike her parents, however, Olivia preferred to stay out of sight. Silence and solitude were her primary comforts, especially when the air around her felt suffocatingly tense.

Her parents seemed to relax once her brother Antonio arrived. Handsome and charming, he was the type that could brighten up any room with a simple hello. The moment he walked through the door their mother was hovering over him asking about his drive from Boston and if he had bothered to eat within the last 24 hours. That’s how she was, their mother, overprotective to the point of exhaustion. Thankfully their father was the opposite. Preferring to keep up his strong exterior, he hung back until he could wrap Antonio in a bearlike embrace. Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she watched from afar. Love, despite its many faces, made itself well-known in this family.

Being only two years apart, Olivia and Antonio were no strangers to the pangs of sibling nuances. From shouting matches to developing new ways to annoy each other, the pair fit the generic label of brother and sister. Between all of the quarrels there were also moments of friendship. As they grew older, Olivia and Antonio developed a close bond. There were many nights where they would stay up until the wee hours of the morning laughing while sharing their dreams and aspirations. It was nice, Olivia thought, to have a friend like Antonio. He wasn’t just her brother, but he was her biggest fan. She was lonely when he left for college, but she was meant to join him in Boston next year. That was, before everything changed.

Olivia shook her head in an effort to rid herself from the sadness beginning to pool in the back of her mind. In her absentminded state she had wandered into the kitchen. Dirty glassware and crumb littered dessert plates had been left forgotten along the white marble countertops. The sight seemed almost alien in the normally tidy room. Had it been another time, Olivia's mother would have protested leaving even one dish until the next day. Emotional turmoil has no room for everyday chores, Olivia thought.

She reached for a glass but it slipped from her hands and shattered against the hardwood floor, tiny shards exploding in all directions. Despite the noise it made, no one came running to investigate. No one would. Olivia was alone now. In a way, she felt like the glass. One moment she was a pristine object full of purpose, the next she was broken mess strewn across a cold floor.

Leaving the destruction behind, Olivia made her way to the living room. She thought back to yesterday, to all of the people dressed in black. Olivia's mother had said it would be better for everyone to come to their home from the cemetery. What a gloomy affair it was. The sky had been overcast but the rain never came no matter how hard she wished for it. She wanted a flood to come and wash everyone away. The teary eyed faces and the stale reverberation of empty prayers had made her stomach churn. Theatrics never sat well with her in these circumstances. Though some may have been genuine, most would have forgotten their sorrow by today.

Her eyes drifted to the family portraits on the wall. Each smiling face looked back at her with empty eyes. She wanted to rip them apart and scratch out their faces. The longer she stood in the stillness being watched, a deep rage built up within her. These photographs were memories that would come to haunt her, to haunt her family. They were remnants of a happiness she'd never experience again. The walls were closing in on her fast. She needed an escape from this new reality.

With a sudden urgency Olivia turned on her heel and ran from the living room, up a steep wooden staircase, and toward her bedroom. She refused to go inside for days, but she needed to remember. She needed to remember so she could find her way out. As she reached her bedroom door, Olivia stopped. Dread begin to rise in her chest. Something felt wrong. A voice within her pleaded for her not to go inside, but she ignored it. With a trembling hand she turned the knob and stepped inside.

At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. Her bright blue bedding was tidy and neatly made. Posters of her favorite rock bands and photographs of her friends lined the walls. Her books stood in neat rows on her shelf. A stained glass wind chime hung by her window reflecting a spectrum of color across the beige carpeted floor. Olivia let out a sigh of relief. She wanted to laugh at herself until something in the corner of the room caught her eye. Her back stiffened but she moved closer. A wheelchair and an oxygen tank met her gaze. Then it came to her.

She remembered months of being sick and the diagnosis: stage four ovarian cancer. At only eighteen her life was over. Her parents refused to believe it. She was too young, they said. Olivia remembered being forced to see a handful of doctors before it was made clear that she was running out of time. Chemotherapy had only stalled things for a few months before she didn't have the energy to go on. Her parents wanted her to fight be she only wanted to sleep. She was tired. That's when she made the decision to slip away one night during a rare moment she was alone. What felt like a deep sleep was interrupted by the wailing of her mother, but, when Olivia woke, she was on the outside looking in. Olivia’s mother and father held tightly to her frail body while she watched from the end of the bed. The grief was too much.

Since that day Olivia had been wandering the household. Watching. With each passing day she had forgotten a little more of herself. Olivia screamed loudly and began to tear posters from her wall. She threw pillows across the room and flung her books from their shelves. She took the wind chime from its hook and smashed it against the window, both breaking with a loud crash. This is why she had kept away. The foreboding feeling had tried to warn her. If only she had listened to the remaining traces of who she used to be. She cried out again and again knowing the cycle would continue until there was nothing left of her. From this moment on she would be a prisoner left to haunt dirty corners while everything she ever loved left her behind.
#fiction  #horror 
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Written by XxFwuffyBunnyxX in portal Fiction

The Hidden Ones

All I could remember was the crisp rain crashing against the window -- the deafening roar of thunder, as drops of rain slid down the crystal glass. The snowy bright moon was up, and I laid tousled against my small bed that gently rocked back and forth like a swaying boat on the calm sea.

Then there was a figure. An ominous dark shadow that loomed over my crib, with a silver pointed knife at hand. The moon shone against the blade and the dagger glistened brilliantly before my eyelids gradually opened.

The night was beautiful with the sweet whisper of wind as my terrified screams burned through the dark.

I was stolen, swept away from all that I had ever known and loved -- taken away secretly in a hushed breath.

And when I looked back at my warm comfy cradle, my outer self ten years older as I banged mercilessly at the invisible force that constrained me from entering my past world… the baby inside the crib was not me.

                                                               ~~

My parents always warned me about the Dream World. The mystifying world of subtle fantasies and the prosperer of heart-wrenching nightmares.

It is said that any person who enters into the dream world through blanketed sleep is to be erased from the reality realm. Knowing too much about the abnormal universe on the the other side, rumors tell that Overwatchers from the Dream World come to abduct any innocent minds that live in the momentary trance.

For it was promised through shrouded cloaks and insecure handshakes that both worlds would keep their cursed peace… if they didn’t know the truth about the other.

But I was different. Growing up as a inquisitive and anxious individual wanting to know everything about the world and its mysteries, it was definite that I would have the capability to infiltrate the confounding world beyond.

So foolishly shunning out the warnings from my blood parents, only a young baby in my crib, I glided to a shrouded and misted land far away from our universe. Venturing through paradox cosmos and flaming stars, everything seemed to mix together in a equivocal space. Time, emotion, and the knowledge of anything seem to freeze… until I reached the Dream World.

When I was there the feeling of warmth spread through my skin as I steadily woke. All around me was the sprouting roots of grass and the blank gray sky that seemed to mourn for color. The tall rays of grass reeked of a dead but lively dull green tint -- the sky complementing it with it’s insipid taste of life.

Unhurriedly rising to my knees, I scanned the vast lands of the Dream World. Dark mountains seem to conquer every sort of scenery and any living organism seem to die in it’s colorless comforts.

Beginning to search around the inexplicable land, my heart suddenly stopped to a halt.

My eyes diverted down to my feet and my tender hand briskly swept against my face. I stood motionless in the fields of grass as the world seemed to come crashing down on me.

Unlike my former self inside my fine and elegantly-made cradle, now inside the dream world I was older and took on a different shape. I was more mature and built like an adolescent, nothing like my fragile structure as a baby. My brown hair was longer and I wore clothes that tailored towards my uprising posture.

Thoughts, memories, and pictures of realization snapped into my mind as my heart slowly began fluttering against my chest again. This is what the Dream World is like, I thought to myself, as I ran with wonder towards the moonless mountains.

When I stepped on to the dusky mountains, a whole new world opened to my vision.

Everywhere like reigning weeds on the rolling hills of the mountain were shadowed figures progressively walking. The smoggy silhouettes seemed to inch systematically with each step despite their customized foundation.

The dark shadows were long legged creatures, with a vertical spine and a symmetrical small head. Some appeared to wear drawn-out cloaks or even hats that suited them perfectly.

Even through the crowd of inching outlines, some of the unfathomable creatures reminded me of young kids who wore the extensive cloaks in my world, except in the Dream World these shadows seemed more lifeless and lost.

Although the striding shades did prompt me towards my own world, this didn’t hide their strange behavior.

As I stood in the middle of the sauntering shadows, they seemed to pay no attention to me. They acted as if they had some kind of purpose, although for all that I could see, they seemed to be walking into nowhere.

I couldn’t put the tip of my tongue on it, but the shades were so lively… but at the same time so lifeless.

But as I hesitantly reached out to touch one of the creatures to remedy my curiosity, a strong grip pressed against my shoulder and spun me around.

I was faced with one of the same shadows, except this one in particular was dramatically shorter and possessed a more gruesome face. Realizing that the shade was an Overwatcher, my legs mounted against the ground in a stunned reaction.

Then as the Overwatcher slowly drew me in closer into his blank features, he graciously whispered the words: Ream Lander.

                                                                  ~~

I awoke to foggy clouds and soft winds as the Overwatcher stood in front of me. We were surrounded by complete darkness and nothing but the vibrations of our ringing voices.

As I stared in a trance into the nothingness of the Overwatcher's face, he spoke in his deep rumbling voice as he explained everything to me.

He told of dreams and how they pulled and allured people into their deep fantasies and fascinating pleasures. Whether the dream is conducted by a person whose minds are drawn with immoral thoughts, or the individual is just curious… the person is forever embedded in the Dream World.

The Overwatcher continued with the shadows, how these humans who have fallen into the Dream World by mistake or with purpose never return to the reality realm. And that if they desire to return to their home, they must live eternally and surrender their lives to claim their original form.

So each one of the shades are given a vision to their true reality, where they cannot be seen by their loved ones or other shades. Rather, they are challenged with the ongoing impediment of getting back their lives through a clear invisible force. Whether these spirited shadows fight to grasp their souls or be consumed by the hate, envy, and emotions of the shade is up to them.

When the dark Overwatcher finished his description, he shot his hand into the darkness and created an empty swirling portal that ignited quickly through the dark.

Although tears began flowing down my face and I refused to enter the doorway, the Overwatcher illustrated his last final piece to me.

He spoke of how entering the portal would make me serve as one of the shadows that aimlessly walked for lifetimes… never aging but with purpose until there was none. How as a young shade I would get a flash of my own reality in my own world and that I had to save my past form or I would slave as a shade forever.

The Overwatcher advised me of how as a shade in the reality realm, even though I couldn’t be seen in my regular or shade structure, that I could reincarnate as a personal spirit animal in my world.

And how when I was in the mesmerizing fake reality, that I would be accompanied with a simple aged tree that counted the transient time I had left in my own realm.

Then before words could softly fall off my lips, with a single nimble motion, the Overwatcher pushed me into the portal and I tumbled down to my invisible vision.

Now in my mere reality that was blocked by an interior force, I recounted the mission on my hands and reawakened my motivation to return back to my own world. I ran around my own realm and constantly knocked at the invisible shield to notify my parents I was there, trying to tear away at the eternal tenacious window that secluded me on the other side. I would also change timelines and certain events to show them that I was present.

And most of all, I would battle my Dream World replacement and struggle to gain back my place in the real world.

Where I would take menacing risks and chances to free myself from my distressful state. To find that wisp of hope to help me endure through the tragic times. And to observe my parents grow old with my replacement, feel the piercing pain of their memories, and to watch as the leaves from the faded tree wither and gently fall to the ground… while I die further away from reality.

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Written by XxFwuffyBunnyxX in portal Fiction
The Hidden Ones
All I could remember was the crisp rain crashing against the window -- the deafening roar of thunder, as drops of rain slid down the crystal glass. The snowy bright moon was up, and I laid tousled against my small bed that gently rocked back and forth like a swaying boat on the calm sea.

Then there was a figure. An ominous dark shadow that loomed over my crib, with a silver pointed knife at hand. The moon shone against the blade and the dagger glistened brilliantly before my eyelids gradually opened.

The night was beautiful with the sweet whisper of wind as my terrified screams burned through the dark.

I was stolen, swept away from all that I had ever known and loved -- taken away secretly in a hushed breath.

And when I looked back at my warm comfy cradle, my outer self ten years older as I banged mercilessly at the invisible force that constrained me from entering my past world… the baby inside the crib was not me.

                                                               ~~

My parents always warned me about the Dream World. The mystifying world of subtle fantasies and the prosperer of heart-wrenching nightmares.

It is said that any person who enters into the dream world through blanketed sleep is to be erased from the reality realm. Knowing too much about the abnormal universe on the the other side, rumors tell that Overwatchers from the Dream World come to abduct any innocent minds that live in the momentary trance.

For it was promised through shrouded cloaks and insecure handshakes that both worlds would keep their cursed peace… if they didn’t know the truth about the other.

But I was different. Growing up as a inquisitive and anxious individual wanting to know everything about the world and its mysteries, it was definite that I would have the capability to infiltrate the confounding world beyond.

So foolishly shunning out the warnings from my blood parents, only a young baby in my crib, I glided to a shrouded and misted land far away from our universe. Venturing through paradox cosmos and flaming stars, everything seemed to mix together in a equivocal space. Time, emotion, and the knowledge of anything seem to freeze… until I reached the Dream World.



When I was there the feeling of warmth spread through my skin as I steadily woke. All around me was the sprouting roots of grass and the blank gray sky that seemed to mourn for color. The tall rays of grass reeked of a dead but lively dull green tint -- the sky complementing it with it’s insipid taste of life.

Unhurriedly rising to my knees, I scanned the vast lands of the Dream World. Dark mountains seem to conquer every sort of scenery and any living organism seem to die in it’s colorless comforts.

Beginning to search around the inexplicable land, my heart suddenly stopped to a halt.

My eyes diverted down to my feet and my tender hand briskly swept against my face. I stood motionless in the fields of grass as the world seemed to come crashing down on me.

Unlike my former self inside my fine and elegantly-made cradle, now inside the dream world I was older and took on a different shape. I was more mature and built like an adolescent, nothing like my fragile structure as a baby. My brown hair was longer and I wore clothes that tailored towards my uprising posture.

Thoughts, memories, and pictures of realization snapped into my mind as my heart slowly began fluttering against my chest again. This is what the Dream World is like, I thought to myself, as I ran with wonder towards the moonless mountains.




When I stepped on to the dusky mountains, a whole new world opened to my vision.

Everywhere like reigning weeds on the rolling hills of the mountain were shadowed figures progressively walking. The smoggy silhouettes seemed to inch systematically with each step despite their customized foundation.

The dark shadows were long legged creatures, with a vertical spine and a symmetrical small head. Some appeared to wear drawn-out cloaks or even hats that suited them perfectly.

Even through the crowd of inching outlines, some of the unfathomable creatures reminded me of young kids who wore the extensive cloaks in my world, except in the Dream World these shadows seemed more lifeless and lost.

Although the striding shades did prompt me towards my own world, this didn’t hide their strange behavior.

As I stood in the middle of the sauntering shadows, they seemed to pay no attention to me. They acted as if they had some kind of purpose, although for all that I could see, they seemed to be walking into nowhere.

I couldn’t put the tip of my tongue on it, but the shades were so lively… but at the same time so lifeless.

But as I hesitantly reached out to touch one of the creatures to remedy my curiosity, a strong grip pressed against my shoulder and spun me around.

I was faced with one of the same shadows, except this one in particular was dramatically shorter and possessed a more gruesome face. Realizing that the shade was an Overwatcher, my legs mounted against the ground in a stunned reaction.

Then as the Overwatcher slowly drew me in closer into his blank features, he graciously whispered the words: Ream Lander.

                                                                  ~~

I awoke to foggy clouds and soft winds as the Overwatcher stood in front of me. We were surrounded by complete darkness and nothing but the vibrations of our ringing voices.

As I stared in a trance into the nothingness of the Overwatcher's face, he spoke in his deep rumbling voice as he explained everything to me.

He told of dreams and how they pulled and allured people into their deep fantasies and fascinating pleasures. Whether the dream is conducted by a person whose minds are drawn with immoral thoughts, or the individual is just curious… the person is forever embedded in the Dream World.

The Overwatcher continued with the shadows, how these humans who have fallen into the Dream World by mistake or with purpose never return to the reality realm. And that if they desire to return to their home, they must live eternally and surrender their lives to claim their original form.

So each one of the shades are given a vision to their true reality, where they cannot be seen by their loved ones or other shades. Rather, they are challenged with the ongoing impediment of getting back their lives through a clear invisible force. Whether these spirited shadows fight to grasp their souls or be consumed by the hate, envy, and emotions of the shade is up to them.

When the dark Overwatcher finished his description, he shot his hand into the darkness and created an empty swirling portal that ignited quickly through the dark.

Although tears began flowing down my face and I refused to enter the doorway, the Overwatcher illustrated his last final piece to me.

He spoke of how entering the portal would make me serve as one of the shadows that aimlessly walked for lifetimes… never aging but with purpose until there was none. How as a young shade I would get a flash of my own reality in my own world and that I had to save my past form or I would slave as a shade forever.

The Overwatcher advised me of how as a shade in the reality realm, even though I couldn’t be seen in my regular or shade structure, that I could reincarnate as a personal spirit animal in my world.

And how when I was in the mesmerizing fake reality, that I would be accompanied with a simple aged tree that counted the transient time I had left in my own realm.

Then before words could softly fall off my lips, with a single nimble motion, the Overwatcher pushed me into the portal and I tumbled down to my invisible vision.

Now in my mere reality that was blocked by an interior force, I recounted the mission on my hands and reawakened my motivation to return back to my own world. I ran around my own realm and constantly knocked at the invisible shield to notify my parents I was there, trying to tear away at the eternal tenacious window that secluded me on the other side. I would also change timelines and certain events to show them that I was present.

And most of all, I would battle my Dream World replacement and struggle to gain back my place in the real world.

Where I would take menacing risks and chances to free myself from my distressful state. To find that wisp of hope to help me endure through the tragic times. And to observe my parents grow old with my replacement, feel the piercing pain of their memories, and to watch as the leaves from the faded tree wither and gently fall to the ground… while I die further away from reality.
#fiction  #horror  #dreams  #alone  #Part2ComingSoon 
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Writer's block.
Written by JessicaJohnson

A Ghastly Barricade

We rip out phrases by their roots

Only to be met

With fistfuls of nothing

As the silence deepens.

We encompass the empty

And bleed into the barren,

Broken,

And devoid of beauty.

And when disembodied voices whisper,

"Only a little farther..."

We tread these polluted waters,

Bartering souls with wraiths

For inspiration and haste

If they would only move us

Beyond this god forsaken waste...

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Writer's block.
Written by JessicaJohnson
A Ghastly Barricade
We rip out phrases by their roots
Only to be met
With fistfuls of nothing
As the silence deepens.

We encompass the empty
And bleed into the barren,
Broken,
And devoid of beauty.

And when disembodied voices whisper,
"Only a little farther..."
We tread these polluted waters,
Bartering souls with wraiths
For inspiration and haste
If they would only move us
Beyond this god forsaken waste...
#horror  #writersblock  #uglypoetry  #becausealossofwordsisaghastlyfate 
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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction

The Devil's Intern Part 3

The demonic elevator crashed dead center inside the devil's large office space. Its crooked doors popped open with Lu and his new intern stepping outside.

"Welcome to Hell!" Lu said, "My home away from home."

Joshua pinched his nose together. "I don't like the smell." he gasped. There was a foul odor of rotten eggs in the air. At least it wasn't burning meat, but rotten egg smells were bad enough. 

"You'll get used to it." the devil assured, "Let's meet the gang. Ah, here they are."

Both Lu and Joshua were welcomed by an assortment of familiar faces. A purple succubus Joshua had seen numerous times before. Lilith was her name. She had come up to the Gravely household before. The short, stubby bat-like demon Scrugs was also among the welcome committee. 

There were three other demons that Joshua recognized but didn't remember their names. He last saw them during Rosemary's game night at her house, and he recognized the larger of the three, Moloch, was the father to one of his friends, Dominic.

The last demon Joshua was completely unfamiliar with but he recalled Rosemary's stories about him. He looked as Rosemary described him. Some sort of centaurian creature with the body and head of an old spider. Six fingers in each had that carried a long staff. Six black eyes that rarely blinked. A scarf that covered most of his face. Dressed himself like a demonic pope with his ragged robes and papal tiara. 

Legion. That was the one Rosemary described. Legion, the dark sorcerer and priest of heresy. Joshua was sure that this demon never came up to his world, but what reason would he? The demon was described as being very old. No one knew how old exactly but he could recall Hell looking much, much different than it was now.

Lu began his role call. "Here's Lilith. My personal secretary."

"Ello there." The sweet succubus greeted with a curtsy. "Please to have you down here with us."

"And here's Scrugs, my personal assistant." 

"Hiya, Josh!" Scrugs also greeted.

"You already know these fellas: Balthazar, Ghuul, and Moloch."

"Wazz up!" the wild Balthazar hollered.

"Welcome to the hotbox, kid." the timid Ghuul said, giving the boy a short salute with his fingers.

"Sup." the hulking Moloch grumbled. Never was one for small talk.

"And last but not least. My loyal adviser, Legion."

"Welcome to our domain, young Master Wordworth." The old demon bowed his rounded head.

"Hello," Joshua gave a kind wave. "Nice to see you all again, and to meet some of you for the first time."

The demons noticed something off. The human boy wore something around his neck. It was a necklace with a silver chain. Attached at the end was an odd-shaped T. Yet the demons recognized that this was no letter.

"Watch it, everyone!" Balthazar screeched, hopping a couple steps back from the boy. "Kid's got a cross!"

"Keep it away. Keep it away." Ghuul urged.

"Oh, I'm melting." Moloch bellowed. "Oh, what a world."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt anyone." Joshua nervously said, covering his rosary with his hands. 

"The only thing you're hurting is their acting career," Lu assured, unconvinced by his friends' stale performances.

 "And their humility." the ancient warlock Legion grumbled, also dismayed by his fellow kin.

The demons all started to laugh. "Oh that's hysterical." Balthazar cried, "Kid thinks demons are repelled by crosses."

"Beware!" Scrugs playfully put his claws together to form a cross, "The power of the 'T' compels you."

"I think they make nice little earrings if you ask me." Lilith teased with the others.

Their laughter ended when one by one each demon was struck across their heads. From tallest to shortest—starting with Moloch to Scrugs—they all felt a blow from Legion's wooden staff.

"Holy objects and other relics should not be taken lightly." Legion scolded his fellow demons. "Now act your ages! You're being rude to our guest."

"Ah, we were just having a little fun," Balthazar said, rubbing the fresh lump on his head, "nothing too personal."

"Wait, I don't understand," Joshua queried, "Shouldn't my cross repel you?"

"Why would it?" Moloch asked.

"Because the Bible referred to demons as being angels who were cast out from Heaven," the boy went on, "and Lucifer—er, Lu, I mean—was their leader. And anything resembling Christ is suppose to be a defense against demons."

"A few truths do not account for the whole story." Legion bellowed.

"Meaning?"

Lilith explained, "There are actually no angels down here, love. Except for the boss of course. But he's a full-blooded demon now."

"Truthfully, I don't know what happened to my followers." Lu added. "I took the fall and was kicked out, and they were banished elsewhere. Not sure where." he shrugged off his old memories. "That's ancient history. Perhaps it's time to get to know the real story. Legion, if you would do the honors."

Legion bowed his head to his king. "As you command, my lord," With his dark power, his decrepit hand waved in the air. Old candles hidden in the shadows lit up, revealing a decorated mosaic depicting various demons and locations of the Inferno. The centerpiece bared the image of a humanoid being—with large teeth, red skin, and a pair of horns—engulfed in a sea of fire and smoke. The painted, dark eyes haunted young Joshua the more he stared at the mosaic. It resembled what his mother and the church always described about the deceitful devil of the old testament. 

"Our long, factual history began long ago after celestial beings fought a civil war with one another. In the outcome only three have survived. Together they founded a new paradise and crafted new lifeforms in their own image, to rebuild what was lost in their world. They created many worlds across many galaxies. Two worlds were the most promising, yet one was given more attention than the other. It became a kingdom of light. A sanctuary for the pure. What these beings did not know was that they were not the only ones to have survived."

"This is where things get good," Scrugs whispered in on Joshua's ear. 

After the elder demon hushed him, he continued, "There was one other to have survived. This entity, known only as Corruption, found its way to one of these worlds, and shaped its inhabitants in its own twisted image. According to the ancient scriptures, this was the birth of Hell and its demons. 

"Abandoned and forgotten. Violent and manic. The inhabitants soon preyed on one another. But there was one where was one that rose up. One that united all the demons under his rule. One that set out for conquest across other worlds and the realm of the light. His name would forever be remembered as the great adversary against God and his angels, Satan.

"Wait!" Joshua interrupted, turning towards Lu, "I thought your name was Satan."

"The terms 'Devil' and 'Satan' are not just names, but titles." the sorcerer corrected him, "Titles that are given to the one demon who shall rule all of Hell. Many bore those names and ruled over this realm with such power. And now that power and entitlement has been passed to Lucifer."

"How did you become the devil?"

"I killed the last one." Lu said with a greedy grin. "Now Hell's much more prosperous under my rule."

"Amen to that!" Lilith praised.

"So shall we begin the tour? We can stop at the gift shop later on."

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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction
The Devil's Intern Part 3
The demonic elevator crashed dead center inside the devil's large office space. Its crooked doors popped open with Lu and his new intern stepping outside.

"Welcome to Hell!" Lu said, "My home away from home."

Joshua pinched his nose together. "I don't like the smell." he gasped. There was a foul odor of rotten eggs in the air. At least it wasn't burning meat, but rotten egg smells were bad enough. 

"You'll get used to it." the devil assured, "Let's meet the gang. Ah, here they are."

Both Lu and Joshua were welcomed by an assortment of familiar faces. A purple succubus Joshua had seen numerous times before. Lilith was her name. She had come up to the Gravely household before. The short, stubby bat-like demon Scrugs was also among the welcome committee. 

There were three other demons that Joshua recognized but didn't remember their names. He last saw them during Rosemary's game night at her house, and he recognized the larger of the three, Moloch, was the father to one of his friends, Dominic.

The last demon Joshua was completely unfamiliar with but he recalled Rosemary's stories about him. He looked as Rosemary described him. Some sort of centaurian creature with the body and head of an old spider. Six fingers in each had that carried a long staff. Six black eyes that rarely blinked. A scarf that covered most of his face. Dressed himself like a demonic pope with his ragged robes and papal tiara. 

Legion. That was the one Rosemary described. Legion, the dark sorcerer and priest of heresy. Joshua was sure that this demon never came up to his world, but what reason would he? The demon was described as being very old. No one knew how old exactly but he could recall Hell looking much, much different than it was now.

Lu began his role call. "Here's Lilith. My personal secretary."

"Ello there." The sweet succubus greeted with a curtsy. "Please to have you down here with us."

"And here's Scrugs, my personal assistant." 

"Hiya, Josh!" Scrugs also greeted.

"You already know these fellas: Balthazar, Ghuul, and Moloch."

"Wazz up!" the wild Balthazar hollered.

"Welcome to the hotbox, kid." the timid Ghuul said, giving the boy a short salute with his fingers.

"Sup." the hulking Moloch grumbled. Never was one for small talk.

"And last but not least. My loyal adviser, Legion."

"Welcome to our domain, young Master Wordworth." The old demon bowed his rounded head.

"Hello," Joshua gave a kind wave. "Nice to see you all again, and to meet some of you for the first time."

The demons noticed something off. The human boy wore something around his neck. It was a necklace with a silver chain. Attached at the end was an odd-shaped T. Yet the demons recognized that this was no letter.

"Watch it, everyone!" Balthazar screeched, hopping a couple steps back from the boy. "Kid's got a cross!"

"Keep it away. Keep it away." Ghuul urged.

"Oh, I'm melting." Moloch bellowed. "Oh, what a world."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt anyone." Joshua nervously said, covering his rosary with his hands. 

"The only thing you're hurting is their acting career," Lu assured, unconvinced by his friends' stale performances.

 "And their humility." the ancient warlock Legion grumbled, also dismayed by his fellow kin.

The demons all started to laugh. "Oh that's hysterical." Balthazar cried, "Kid thinks demons are repelled by crosses."

"Beware!" Scrugs playfully put his claws together to form a cross, "The power of the 'T' compels you."

"I think they make nice little earrings if you ask me." Lilith teased with the others.

Their laughter ended when one by one each demon was struck across their heads. From tallest to shortest—starting with Moloch to Scrugs—they all felt a blow from Legion's wooden staff.

"Holy objects and other relics should not be taken lightly." Legion scolded his fellow demons. "Now act your ages! You're being rude to our guest."

"Ah, we were just having a little fun," Balthazar said, rubbing the fresh lump on his head, "nothing too personal."

"Wait, I don't understand," Joshua queried, "Shouldn't my cross repel you?"

"Why would it?" Moloch asked.

"Because the Bible referred to demons as being angels who were cast out from Heaven," the boy went on, "and Lucifer—er, Lu, I mean—was their leader. And anything resembling Christ is suppose to be a defense against demons."

"A few truths do not account for the whole story." Legion bellowed.

"Meaning?"

Lilith explained, "There are actually no angels down here, love. Except for the boss of course. But he's a full-blooded demon now."

"Truthfully, I don't know what happened to my followers." Lu added. "I took the fall and was kicked out, and they were banished elsewhere. Not sure where." he shrugged off his old memories. "That's ancient history. Perhaps it's time to get to know the real story. Legion, if you would do the honors."

Legion bowed his head to his king. "As you command, my lord," With his dark power, his decrepit hand waved in the air. Old candles hidden in the shadows lit up, revealing a decorated mosaic depicting various demons and locations of the Inferno. The centerpiece bared the image of a humanoid being—with large teeth, red skin, and a pair of horns—engulfed in a sea of fire and smoke. The painted, dark eyes haunted young Joshua the more he stared at the mosaic. It resembled what his mother and the church always described about the deceitful devil of the old testament. 

"Our long, factual history began long ago after celestial beings fought a civil war with one another. In the outcome only three have survived. Together they founded a new paradise and crafted new lifeforms in their own image, to rebuild what was lost in their world. They created many worlds across many galaxies. Two worlds were the most promising, yet one was given more attention than the other. It became a kingdom of light. A sanctuary for the pure. What these beings did not know was that they were not the only ones to have survived."

"This is where things get good," Scrugs whispered in on Joshua's ear. 

After the elder demon hushed him, he continued, "There was one other to have survived. This entity, known only as Corruption, found its way to one of these worlds, and shaped its inhabitants in its own twisted image. According to the ancient scriptures, this was the birth of Hell and its demons. 

"Abandoned and forgotten. Violent and manic. The inhabitants soon preyed on one another. But there was one where was one that rose up. One that united all the demons under his rule. One that set out for conquest across other worlds and the realm of the light. His name would forever be remembered as the great adversary against God and his angels, Satan.

"Wait!" Joshua interrupted, turning towards Lu, "I thought your name was Satan."

"The terms 'Devil' and 'Satan' are not just names, but titles." the sorcerer corrected him, "Titles that are given to the one demon who shall rule all of Hell. Many bore those names and ruled over this realm with such power. And now that power and entitlement has been passed to Lucifer."

"How did you become the devil?"

"I killed the last one." Lu said with a greedy grin. "Now Hell's much more prosperous under my rule."

"Amen to that!" Lilith praised.

"So shall we begin the tour? We can stop at the gift shop later on."
#fantasy  #fiction  #horror  #comedy  #sinsofthefather 
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Reoccurring dream
Written by a060147

6.22.17

The only place I can see you is here now, in this world overwrought with things that had been you. Piano keys littering the soil like leaves, sheet music composing trees and trunks instead of melodies. Tabs of benadryl leading the path. You want me to follow, I know -- so I pretend the pills are breadcrumbs, step carefully over them, and make sure to face forward. Don't look back. The forest reeks of antiseptic; it breathes the chemicals, pausing only to produce more beneath the surface. But I tread on. Chaotic, off-tune notes of some melody play softly in the distance, and I know there is little time to reach it.

A clearing. A fractured piano. You: tired and unfamiliar in a hospital gown I don't recognize. The forest has grown its roots in my feet. Curled around my throat.

This isn't your fault, you say, smiling.

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Reoccurring dream
Written by a060147
6.22.17
The only place I can see you is here now, in this world overwrought with things that had been you. Piano keys littering the soil like leaves, sheet music composing trees and trunks instead of melodies. Tabs of benadryl leading the path. You want me to follow, I know -- so I pretend the pills are breadcrumbs, step carefully over them, and make sure to face forward. Don't look back. The forest reeks of antiseptic; it breathes the chemicals, pausing only to produce more beneath the surface. But I tread on. Chaotic, off-tune notes of some melody play softly in the distance, and I know there is little time to reach it.

A clearing. A fractured piano. You: tired and unfamiliar in a hospital gown I don't recognize. The forest has grown its roots in my feet. Curled around my throat.

This isn't your fault, you say, smiling.
#fantasy  #fiction  #nonfiction  #horror  #adventure 
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Start your story with "April showers bring May flowers, at least, that's what my ________used to tell me." Then end you story with "And that, officer, is why I had to murder my____________.
Written by ruffmiriam in portal Horror & Thriller

The Ides of April

"April showers, bring May flowers, at least that's what my Aunt Myrtle used to tell me. She was one for the flowers, all right. Peonies, foxglove, roses, daffodils, irises, crocuses, you name it, she loved them. Grew as many as she possibly could in the small garden in back of her house, each species trying to choke out all the other ones, it was so full. She even said she wanted to die in April. That way, after the rains, she'd really be pushing up daisies come May. Thought it was a crime to die at any other time of year because the flowers just wouldn't be nice enough to justify digging a hole in the ground.

"Then there was my Uncle Harold. Lord knows why he married Myrtle - they were as different as two peas in two different pods. He hated the flowers, thought of them as a nuisance that had to be watered and fertilized and fussed over, all so that you could cut them and have them wilt and die within a couple of days being stuffed in a box of a house. And they set off his allergies, too. Walked around the house with a box of tissues, gulping Sudafed, and sneezing his head off. Add that to his already crotchety nature, and you had an explosion going off every few minutes, especially when Myrtle kept shoving flowers under his nose to "breathe in the stimulating vapors," as she called it.

"So, it was February, and Uncle Harold wasn't feeling very good. He had pains in his stomach and back, and he was always tired, even more so than when he was dealing with one of Myrtle's cleaning frenzies and had to rush from room to room to escape the vacuum cleaner trying to suck him up with the "rest of the dirt," as Myrtle sometimes said. He went over to his doctor, who sent him for some tests, which then resulted in some more tests, until he finally ended up at the oncologist. Turns out he had liver cancer, and it had metastacized to other organs and his lymphatic system, so it was pretty much inoperable. The doctor gave him six months at the outside. Myrtle was outraged. How could anyone die in September or October? It was starting to get cold then, and she'd have to stand outside for the funeral, and then there would be the leaves falling so the grave would need cleaning up every couple of days. Who had time for that? From then on, she focused her attention pretty much entirely on her indoor plants, except for grumbling and grousing constantly to me when I was there, or calling me in the middle of the night to do the same. It was "Harold this, Harold that. Woe is me!"

"She made my life pretty much a living hell, and nothing I did would get her off my case. It got to the point where I even considered jumping off a building to make it stop, but then I'm so much of a coward that way, I'd never really do it. Come the beginning of April, though, and she was like a pit bull after me. She couldn't bear six months of Harold's suffering, only to have the indignity of a fall funeral, and couldn't I please, please bring a ray of sunshine into her miserable life? Suddenly that was all I was thinking about, too, and a spring funeral to push up daisies in May sounded pretty rosy to me. And that, officer, is why I had to murder my Uncle Harold."

"Um, would you mind putting some flowers on his grave every month after you lock me up? It would mean so much to Myrtle - and to me."

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Start your story with "April showers bring May flowers, at least, that's what my ________used to tell me." Then end you story with "And that, officer, is why I had to murder my____________.
Written by ruffmiriam in portal Horror & Thriller
The Ides of April
"April showers, bring May flowers, at least that's what my Aunt Myrtle used to tell me. She was one for the flowers, all right. Peonies, foxglove, roses, daffodils, irises, crocuses, you name it, she loved them. Grew as many as she possibly could in the small garden in back of her house, each species trying to choke out all the other ones, it was so full. She even said she wanted to die in April. That way, after the rains, she'd really be pushing up daisies come May. Thought it was a crime to die at any other time of year because the flowers just wouldn't be nice enough to justify digging a hole in the ground.

"Then there was my Uncle Harold. Lord knows why he married Myrtle - they were as different as two peas in two different pods. He hated the flowers, thought of them as a nuisance that had to be watered and fertilized and fussed over, all so that you could cut them and have them wilt and die within a couple of days being stuffed in a box of a house. And they set off his allergies, too. Walked around the house with a box of tissues, gulping Sudafed, and sneezing his head off. Add that to his already crotchety nature, and you had an explosion going off every few minutes, especially when Myrtle kept shoving flowers under his nose to "breathe in the stimulating vapors," as she called it.

"So, it was February, and Uncle Harold wasn't feeling very good. He had pains in his stomach and back, and he was always tired, even more so than when he was dealing with one of Myrtle's cleaning frenzies and had to rush from room to room to escape the vacuum cleaner trying to suck him up with the "rest of the dirt," as Myrtle sometimes said. He went over to his doctor, who sent him for some tests, which then resulted in some more tests, until he finally ended up at the oncologist. Turns out he had liver cancer, and it had metastacized to other organs and his lymphatic system, so it was pretty much inoperable. The doctor gave him six months at the outside. Myrtle was outraged. How could anyone die in September or October? It was starting to get cold then, and she'd have to stand outside for the funeral, and then there would be the leaves falling so the grave would need cleaning up every couple of days. Who had time for that? From then on, she focused her attention pretty much entirely on her indoor plants, except for grumbling and grousing constantly to me when I was there, or calling me in the middle of the night to do the same. It was "Harold this, Harold that. Woe is me!"

"She made my life pretty much a living hell, and nothing I did would get her off my case. It got to the point where I even considered jumping off a building to make it stop, but then I'm so much of a coward that way, I'd never really do it. Come the beginning of April, though, and she was like a pit bull after me. She couldn't bear six months of Harold's suffering, only to have the indignity of a fall funeral, and couldn't I please, please bring a ray of sunshine into her miserable life? Suddenly that was all I was thinking about, too, and a spring funeral to push up daisies in May sounded pretty rosy to me. And that, officer, is why I had to murder my Uncle Harold."

"Um, would you mind putting some flowers on his grave every month after you lock me up? It would mean so much to Myrtle - and to me."

#fiction  #horror  #challenge  #Aprilshowers 
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Written by JustAPretense

Hell Bound

Hell found me. It wasn't in the dead of night like you might expect or on a dark and stormy day. No, hell finally came for me at sunrise while the sun still hung low, reflecting off the ocean beside us, and the world was awash in the colors of fire. Maybe this had been more fitting after all, considering where I was headed if this thing had its way.

If the exact timing had been unexpected, the form this messenger of hell had taken was even more jarring. A year ago, give or take a few hours, I had made a sacrifice to save my niece. My life, both here and eternal, forfeited for her to live. For a year, I'd known this was coming. I had tried to prepare, to guess how exactly my end would come. I had spoken with leaders of many different religions, collected any paraphernalia even remotely suggested to drive off evil, and wrapped up all affairs just in case I failed. I didn't plan to fail. I planned to fight. I had said goodbye to a happy, cancer-free little girl a few days ago to prepare, and that is who I stood before now. Only, I could tell this...thing. It couldn't really be Sarah.

"Hello, uncle. I've been waiting for you. Do you like my dress? Doesn't it make me look so pretty?" exclaimed Not-Sarah. It was Sarah's voice too. Black eyes, not her normal blue, piercing above a grin wide enough her lips looked like they might crack. I had given my niece that dress to wear the day she was finally discharged from the hospital. It wasn't going to get away with this.

"How dare you-", I started. I tried to keep going, but I couldn't. We were alone on this beach, but it felt like a hand covering my mouth.

"How dare I? How dare I? Do you not remember who you are talking to? I saved this little girl. Not you, me." I tried to scream in protest, but only a whimper escaped. Not-Sarah grinned at me and kept going. "I kept my end of the bargain, and I have the nagging suspicion you don't intend to keep yours. Don't think that I didn't notice your 'holy' weapons and our location. Salt water, how quaint."

I tried to reach for one of the mentioned holy weapons, a blessed gun capable of shooting silver bullets doused in holy water. I couldn't get it out of its holster. The creature chuckled. I tried my dagger only to find it wouldn't leave its sheath. One by one, I tried my whole arsenal. With each failure, the creature's laughter grew until it was near howling. I still couldn't speak.

"You are damned my dear, devoted uncle. You have been damned since the moment you signed my contract. Why would you possibly think you could wield His weapons? He forsook you when you forsook Him. You are hell bound. There is nothing you can do to stop it." it proclaimed, stepping forward with arms outstretched. For a moment, it reminded me of my niece begging for a hug. But, this wasn't Sarah. My weapons may not have worked, my mouth may have been unable to produce words, but my limbs were still working. There was still fight left in me, and I had a family to get back to.

The creature stopped a few feet away, arms still outstretched, waiting for me. There was a different smile this time, sweet like one of my real Sarah's smiles. The audacity of this thing. I lunged forward, tackling it to the ground. We fought for dominance. It bit me in the meat of my left forearm, and I backhanded it in the face. It scratched my right cheek leaving deep gouges, and I put a knee in its stomach. Eventually, it didn't seem so high and mighty anymore struggling there on the ground, my knee pressed into its back. While I held Not-Sarah down, I took my useless items off my belt and slipped it from its loops. I bound the creature's hands behind its back, flipped it over and stood up. Even though I knew it couldn't be my real niece, it was heartbreaking to see her face this way, cut up with bruises already forming.

It spit out blood and looked up at me. "I love it when they fight. It makes it that much sweeter when they break. You will regret what you do here."

Frustrated, I backhanded the creature again then grabbed handfuls of Sarah's red hair. Whatever power this creature had over my ability to speak seemed to have been lost in the fight, but I had nothing to say. I dragged it out to sea by its hair. It did not plead for its life, just let it happen. When we hit the surf, I heard a sob and looked down. This time, I saw Sarah's eyes, not the black of the creature. It was trying to play on my relationship with my niece, trying to get me to give in. But, I would not be tricked!

I dragged us deeper into the water until the waves crashed just under my shoulders. Letting go of the creature's hair, I looked into the eyes of this thing wearing my niece's face. There was no maniacal grin, just bruises, cuts, and scrapes. I couldn't tell the difference between the tears and drops of water from the spray. I close my hand over the top of its head, a mockery of a gesture I would often give Sarah, gentle pats on the head to convey my pride. I pushed. It tried to resist so I pushed harder. Whatever strength this thing had possessed, it was gone. Maybe the devil had forsaken it just as He had forsaken me. I pushed until it was completely submerged under the water, red hair only just barely floating up to the surface. One minute in, and all struggling had stopped. We were still the only ones on the beach, but I could swear I heard laughter. I waited five minutes then finally let up. The undertow was strong. I could not bear to look at the body as I let the current take it away. Only the thought of the real Sarah and her father, my brother, waiting for me at home prevented me from letting it take my body away too.

I trudged back through the water and collected the failed weapons I had left on the ground. I threw them into the ocean, hoping the current would take care of them too. I walked up the beach toward my hotel, thinking of the cellphone I had left in the room. I would be able to tell them I was coming home, for good this time. By the time I walked into the lobby, I was smiling. A sight I must have made, wet from the neck down with sand in my hair, scratches on my cheek and no belt around my waist. But, I didn't care. I was finally free! I left a puddle in the elevator before getting out on my floor. I whistled as I walked down the hall. I couldn't wait to be home.

My brother was sitting in front of my hotel room. His head was down, a note dangling from one hand. He looked up as I approached, and I could tell he had been crying. He asked me: "Have you seen Sarah? She ran away from home yesterday.  She left a note saying she had to meet you on the beach so I tracked you here. Please tell me you have seen her?"

He kept talking, but I couldn't hear him. Had that been the real Sarah after all? Is this what the creature meant when it said I would regret my choice and why it had stopped fighting? Did I trade my life for hers then trade it back? I couldn't have killed my niece. I would never have if I'd known. What had I done?

Hell had found me. It did not take me; I didn't let it. But, in the end...it still won.

*Written for an offsite challenge.  Must start with the sentence "Hell found me."

**Picture from HDWallpaperPictures.com

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Written by JustAPretense
Hell Bound
Hell found me. It wasn't in the dead of night like you might expect or on a dark and stormy day. No, hell finally came for me at sunrise while the sun still hung low, reflecting off the ocean beside us, and the world was awash in the colors of fire. Maybe this had been more fitting after all, considering where I was headed if this thing had its way.

If the exact timing had been unexpected, the form this messenger of hell had taken was even more jarring. A year ago, give or take a few hours, I had made a sacrifice to save my niece. My life, both here and eternal, forfeited for her to live. For a year, I'd known this was coming. I had tried to prepare, to guess how exactly my end would come. I had spoken with leaders of many different religions, collected any paraphernalia even remotely suggested to drive off evil, and wrapped up all affairs just in case I failed. I didn't plan to fail. I planned to fight. I had said goodbye to a happy, cancer-free little girl a few days ago to prepare, and that is who I stood before now. Only, I could tell this...thing. It couldn't really be Sarah.

"Hello, uncle. I've been waiting for you. Do you like my dress? Doesn't it make me look so pretty?" exclaimed Not-Sarah. It was Sarah's voice too. Black eyes, not her normal blue, piercing above a grin wide enough her lips looked like they might crack. I had given my niece that dress to wear the day she was finally discharged from the hospital. It wasn't going to get away with this.

"How dare you-", I started. I tried to keep going, but I couldn't. We were alone on this beach, but it felt like a hand covering my mouth.

"How dare I? How dare I? Do you not remember who you are talking to? I saved this little girl. Not you, me." I tried to scream in protest, but only a whimper escaped. Not-Sarah grinned at me and kept going. "I kept my end of the bargain, and I have the nagging suspicion you don't intend to keep yours. Don't think that I didn't notice your 'holy' weapons and our location. Salt water, how quaint."

I tried to reach for one of the mentioned holy weapons, a blessed gun capable of shooting silver bullets doused in holy water. I couldn't get it out of its holster. The creature chuckled. I tried my dagger only to find it wouldn't leave its sheath. One by one, I tried my whole arsenal. With each failure, the creature's laughter grew until it was near howling. I still couldn't speak.

"You are damned my dear, devoted uncle. You have been damned since the moment you signed my contract. Why would you possibly think you could wield His weapons? He forsook you when you forsook Him. You are hell bound. There is nothing you can do to stop it." it proclaimed, stepping forward with arms outstretched. For a moment, it reminded me of my niece begging for a hug. But, this wasn't Sarah. My weapons may not have worked, my mouth may have been unable to produce words, but my limbs were still working. There was still fight left in me, and I had a family to get back to.

The creature stopped a few feet away, arms still outstretched, waiting for me. There was a different smile this time, sweet like one of my real Sarah's smiles. The audacity of this thing. I lunged forward, tackling it to the ground. We fought for dominance. It bit me in the meat of my left forearm, and I backhanded it in the face. It scratched my right cheek leaving deep gouges, and I put a knee in its stomach. Eventually, it didn't seem so high and mighty anymore struggling there on the ground, my knee pressed into its back. While I held Not-Sarah down, I took my useless items off my belt and slipped it from its loops. I bound the creature's hands behind its back, flipped it over and stood up. Even though I knew it couldn't be my real niece, it was heartbreaking to see her face this way, cut up with bruises already forming.

It spit out blood and looked up at me. "I love it when they fight. It makes it that much sweeter when they break. You will regret what you do here."

Frustrated, I backhanded the creature again then grabbed handfuls of Sarah's red hair. Whatever power this creature had over my ability to speak seemed to have been lost in the fight, but I had nothing to say. I dragged it out to sea by its hair. It did not plead for its life, just let it happen. When we hit the surf, I heard a sob and looked down. This time, I saw Sarah's eyes, not the black of the creature. It was trying to play on my relationship with my niece, trying to get me to give in. But, I would not be tricked!

I dragged us deeper into the water until the waves crashed just under my shoulders. Letting go of the creature's hair, I looked into the eyes of this thing wearing my niece's face. There was no maniacal grin, just bruises, cuts, and scrapes. I couldn't tell the difference between the tears and drops of water from the spray. I close my hand over the top of its head, a mockery of a gesture I would often give Sarah, gentle pats on the head to convey my pride. I pushed. It tried to resist so I pushed harder. Whatever strength this thing had possessed, it was gone. Maybe the devil had forsaken it just as He had forsaken me. I pushed until it was completely submerged under the water, red hair only just barely floating up to the surface. One minute in, and all struggling had stopped. We were still the only ones on the beach, but I could swear I heard laughter. I waited five minutes then finally let up. The undertow was strong. I could not bear to look at the body as I let the current take it away. Only the thought of the real Sarah and her father, my brother, waiting for me at home prevented me from letting it take my body away too.

I trudged back through the water and collected the failed weapons I had left on the ground. I threw them into the ocean, hoping the current would take care of them too. I walked up the beach toward my hotel, thinking of the cellphone I had left in the room. I would be able to tell them I was coming home, for good this time. By the time I walked into the lobby, I was smiling. A sight I must have made, wet from the neck down with sand in my hair, scratches on my cheek and no belt around my waist. But, I didn't care. I was finally free! I left a puddle in the elevator before getting out on my floor. I whistled as I walked down the hall. I couldn't wait to be home.

My brother was sitting in front of my hotel room. His head was down, a note dangling from one hand. He looked up as I approached, and I could tell he had been crying. He asked me: "Have you seen Sarah? She ran away from home yesterday.  She left a note saying she had to meet you on the beach so I tracked you here. Please tell me you have seen her?"

He kept talking, but I couldn't hear him. Had that been the real Sarah after all? Is this what the creature meant when it said I would regret my choice and why it had stopped fighting? Did I trade my life for hers then trade it back? I couldn't have killed my niece. I would never have if I'd known. What had I done?

Hell had found me. It did not take me; I didn't let it. But, in the end...it still won.

*Written for an offsite challenge.  Must start with the sentence "Hell found me."
**Picture from HDWallpaperPictures.com
#fiction  #horror 
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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction

The Devil's Intern Part 2

Internship Week began!

All the adults from various businesses all across Brimstone met and interviewed with their assigned students. They talked and shook hands. Some students were ecstatic to work with their representatives while others were only interested in getting a grade for their assignments. 

Among the students and adults were Rosemary, Joshua, and their friends all gathered around Mrs. Gravely and Mr. Marlow. Both Mrs. Gravely and Mr. Marlow were dressed in their talk show attire. Following them around was their trusted cameraman from the studio they worked at. Some of the kids gathered around them briefly to get their five seconds of fame, without the two adults noticing them.

"I'm Marcus Marlow!" Marcus spoke to the camera.

"I'm Carmen Gravely!" Carmen also said.

"I'm Krystal Lotsadeux!" Krystal joined in.

"Ooh, good opening," Mr. Marlow commented, "And it's time to see What's Hot in Brimstone." 

"We're here at Brimstone Elementary for a very special week," Mrs. Gravely told the viewers. "This is an event called Internship Week where the fifth graders are tasked with well established business here in our town, to learn more about them and to maybe one day become successful in their future careers when they're older."

"That's right Carmen," Mr. Marlow agreed, "Our special intern for the week is Krystal Lotsadeux, heiress to the Lotsadeux estate, and she'll be learning from us on how to look good on camera."

"Good thing I already do." Krystal commented. The two adults laughed.

Mr. Marlow then told the viewers. "Come join us later after the commercial break as we show dear Krystal around the studio as our special guest star."

The camera man shouted cut. A thumbs up from him was a clear sign that he got what he needed.

"Oh this is gonna be exciting." Carmen Gravely said. "You kids are taking your first, big to adulthood."

"It's a big honor and responsibility," Marcus Marlow added, "You all ought to feel proud."

Mrs. Gravely then focused her attention towards Joshua, "So Joshua, Rosie tells me that you'll be interning with Lu for the week."

"Uh, yeah," a nervous Joshua said, "It should be... well... I'm not entirely sure there's a word to describe this."

"I know that Lu can be... over enthusiastic. But he generally has a good heart deep down. Very, very deep down. And don't worry, he promised not to do anything too hectic or showboating."

The fire alarm suddenly rang inside the gymnasium. The students and adults moved away from a corner where a massive fire erupted. The fire then shot up and formed a rectangular archway. At its core it birthed a swirling portal. The spectators watched fearfully as odd shadows encroached the haunting doorway.

Out of the fire portal were a clan of heavily armored soldiers. Eight of them marching out of the open mouth. The portal's flames reflected off their polished black armor. Their horned helmets masked their faces but their visors were focused straight ahead. Their arms hauled large machine guns unlike anything manufactured on earth and their backs were sheathed swords. The rhythmic stomps from their metal-clad boots sent tremors throughout the gymnasium.

The soldiers finally came to a halt. They turned and faced each other, weapons at their shoulders. Then out of the same portal was another large figure. It was a large throne made of black gold. Sitting upon his throne was the devil himself, giving his most sinister of smiles to the crowd. His scarlet eyes, his well-dressed red suit, his black hair moussed back that it resembled a pair of horns, and his small goatee below his lips. The towering throne was hauled by dozens of people below it. They were very frail, their dirty, grey skin was close to the bone. They were also hairless and dressed in tattered rags. The servants all looked similar to each other which made it difficult to determine their gender, but they also looked to close to being human. 

The throne came to the stop. A couple of the souls ran in front of the throne and made themselves into a human stairway. Lu waltzed his way down their back, some of the servants groaned as he walked down.

"Well at least it's not too hectic," Carmen said.

"Where is he?" Lu called out with enthusiasm. His smile grew ever so wicked. "Where's my intern at?"

The crowd then pointed at Joshua. "Um, right here, sir." The boy gulped.

"Josh, Joshie, good to seeing you, lad!" Lu rushed forward to the young Wordworth. His cold hand snatched up the boy's and he wildly shook it all about.

"Always a pleasure to see you, sir,"

"Sir? Whoa now, you don't have to call me sir. Every time I hear that I have to check over my shoulder to make sure my Father's not there. Call Lu! Or call me Lucifer, Satan, The Big S. Call me whatever you'd like, just don't call me late for dinner."

The devil turned to his throne. "CARD!" he angrily demanded. One of the souls hurried over from the throne to the devil's side. The soul's weak arm, which shook like a dead twig in a wind storm, held up a small business card. 

The devil swiped it away from the soul and growled. "Now go be useless elsewhere!"

One of the guards grabbed the soul by its throat and heaved it back to the fiery portal. The other guards forced the slaves to carry the heavy throne back to their realm as the doorway closed permanently behind once they entered back through. Now only Lu was the sole remaining demon among the human world. 

Lu's attitude changed back to his chipper state. "For you, Mr. Wordworth."

"Thanks but I already have your card." Josh kindly said.

"Not mine. Yours." the devil corrected. "I just had these crafted overnight."

Joshua then took the card. A small smile formed on his face as he read his name off the card, and it mentioned him being a trainee. It was his very own business card.

The gymnasium doors then burst wide open. "Joshua Wordworth!" Everyone jumped when they heard Principal Wordworth holler at his son. "You are not going anywhere, young man!"

Both Joshua and Lu stared at the madden lady. Sweat dripped off their foreheads and their hearts raced faster than ever. 

Mrs. Wordworth calmed herself and held up a lunchbox. "You forgot your lunch in the car." The principal walked to her son and gave him his lunch. Joshua smiled and thanked his loving parent. 

Mrs. Wordworth's smile morphed into a scowl as she looked at Lu. "I want my son to come back in one piece. You hear?! Or so help me God-"

"I can give you two guarantees, ma'am," Lu interrupted. "One: Pops won't help ya. Two: he'll be fine. Now excuse me for I think some pastries call for my attention."

Lu walked away from the group and towards where the bakers were at. He gobbled up as many free samples he could fit. 

"Alright Joshua," Gloria Wordworth added, handing her son his backpack, "I've packed your books, your pencils, your bible, a few bottles of holy water to protect yourself from Satan and his followers' possession. Do you still have your rosary?"

Josh pulled out his mother's rosary out of his shirt to help assure her confidence. "Right here." he muttered.

"Good. Be safe, my son. You are my greatest gift from God."

She hugged and kissed her son goodbye just as Lu returned. The crowd and students went on with the fair. Lu kissed his wife and stepdaughter a farewell and led Joshua outside. There in the middle of the street was the crooked elevator that always appeared inside the Gravely home. Joshua always saw it whenever he was over but never set foot inside it, fearing its demonic power.

"I thought that was part of Rosemary's house?" he asked.

"Oh no," Lu assured his young intern. "This isn't just an elevator. This contraption allows us to travel from your world to mine, crossing through different dimensions in any direction I so choose. What? Did you really think that my world was directly below yours? My boy, you've got a lot to learn, and I'm just the teacher to show you."

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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction
The Devil's Intern Part 2
Internship Week began!

All the adults from various businesses all across Brimstone met and interviewed with their assigned students. They talked and shook hands. Some students were ecstatic to work with their representatives while others were only interested in getting a grade for their assignments. 

Among the students and adults were Rosemary, Joshua, and their friends all gathered around Mrs. Gravely and Mr. Marlow. Both Mrs. Gravely and Mr. Marlow were dressed in their talk show attire. Following them around was their trusted cameraman from the studio they worked at. Some of the kids gathered around them briefly to get their five seconds of fame, without the two adults noticing them.

"I'm Marcus Marlow!" Marcus spoke to the camera.

"I'm Carmen Gravely!" Carmen also said.

"I'm Krystal Lotsadeux!" Krystal joined in.

"Ooh, good opening," Mr. Marlow commented, "And it's time to see What's Hot in Brimstone." 

"We're here at Brimstone Elementary for a very special week," Mrs. Gravely told the viewers. "This is an event called Internship Week where the fifth graders are tasked with well established business here in our town, to learn more about them and to maybe one day become successful in their future careers when they're older."

"That's right Carmen," Mr. Marlow agreed, "Our special intern for the week is Krystal Lotsadeux, heiress to the Lotsadeux estate, and she'll be learning from us on how to look good on camera."

"Good thing I already do." Krystal commented. The two adults laughed.

Mr. Marlow then told the viewers. "Come join us later after the commercial break as we show dear Krystal around the studio as our special guest star."

The camera man shouted cut. A thumbs up from him was a clear sign that he got what he needed.

"Oh this is gonna be exciting." Carmen Gravely said. "You kids are taking your first, big to adulthood."

"It's a big honor and responsibility," Marcus Marlow added, "You all ought to feel proud."

Mrs. Gravely then focused her attention towards Joshua, "So Joshua, Rosie tells me that you'll be interning with Lu for the week."

"Uh, yeah," a nervous Joshua said, "It should be... well... I'm not entirely sure there's a word to describe this."

"I know that Lu can be... over enthusiastic. But he generally has a good heart deep down. Very, very deep down. And don't worry, he promised not to do anything too hectic or showboating."

The fire alarm suddenly rang inside the gymnasium. The students and adults moved away from a corner where a massive fire erupted. The fire then shot up and formed a rectangular archway. At its core it birthed a swirling portal. The spectators watched fearfully as odd shadows encroached the haunting doorway.

Out of the fire portal were a clan of heavily armored soldiers. Eight of them marching out of the open mouth. The portal's flames reflected off their polished black armor. Their horned helmets masked their faces but their visors were focused straight ahead. Their arms hauled large machine guns unlike anything manufactured on earth and their backs were sheathed swords. The rhythmic stomps from their metal-clad boots sent tremors throughout the gymnasium.

The soldiers finally came to a halt. They turned and faced each other, weapons at their shoulders. Then out of the same portal was another large figure. It was a large throne made of black gold. Sitting upon his throne was the devil himself, giving his most sinister of smiles to the crowd. His scarlet eyes, his well-dressed red suit, his black hair moussed back that it resembled a pair of horns, and his small goatee below his lips. The towering throne was hauled by dozens of people below it. They were very frail, their dirty, grey skin was close to the bone. They were also hairless and dressed in tattered rags. The servants all looked similar to each other which made it difficult to determine their gender, but they also looked to close to being human. 

The throne came to the stop. A couple of the souls ran in front of the throne and made themselves into a human stairway. Lu waltzed his way down their back, some of the servants groaned as he walked down.

"Well at least it's not too hectic," Carmen said.

"Where is he?" Lu called out with enthusiasm. His smile grew ever so wicked. "Where's my intern at?"

The crowd then pointed at Joshua. "Um, right here, sir." The boy gulped.

"Josh, Joshie, good to seeing you, lad!" Lu rushed forward to the young Wordworth. His cold hand snatched up the boy's and he wildly shook it all about.

"Always a pleasure to see you, sir,"

"Sir? Whoa now, you don't have to call me sir. Every time I hear that I have to check over my shoulder to make sure my Father's not there. Call Lu! Or call me Lucifer, Satan, The Big S. Call me whatever you'd like, just don't call me late for dinner."

The devil turned to his throne. "CARD!" he angrily demanded. One of the souls hurried over from the throne to the devil's side. The soul's weak arm, which shook like a dead twig in a wind storm, held up a small business card. 

The devil swiped it away from the soul and growled. "Now go be useless elsewhere!"

One of the guards grabbed the soul by its throat and heaved it back to the fiery portal. The other guards forced the slaves to carry the heavy throne back to their realm as the doorway closed permanently behind once they entered back through. Now only Lu was the sole remaining demon among the human world. 

Lu's attitude changed back to his chipper state. "For you, Mr. Wordworth."

"Thanks but I already have your card." Josh kindly said.

"Not mine. Yours." the devil corrected. "I just had these crafted overnight."

Joshua then took the card. A small smile formed on his face as he read his name off the card, and it mentioned him being a trainee. It was his very own business card.

The gymnasium doors then burst wide open. "Joshua Wordworth!" Everyone jumped when they heard Principal Wordworth holler at his son. "You are not going anywhere, young man!"

Both Joshua and Lu stared at the madden lady. Sweat dripped off their foreheads and their hearts raced faster than ever. 

Mrs. Wordworth calmed herself and held up a lunchbox. "You forgot your lunch in the car." The principal walked to her son and gave him his lunch. Joshua smiled and thanked his loving parent. 

Mrs. Wordworth's smile morphed into a scowl as she looked at Lu. "I want my son to come back in one piece. You hear?! Or so help me God-"

"I can give you two guarantees, ma'am," Lu interrupted. "One: Pops won't help ya. Two: he'll be fine. Now excuse me for I think some pastries call for my attention."

Lu walked away from the group and towards where the bakers were at. He gobbled up as many free samples he could fit. 

"Alright Joshua," Gloria Wordworth added, handing her son his backpack, "I've packed your books, your pencils, your bible, a few bottles of holy water to protect yourself from Satan and his followers' possession. Do you still have your rosary?"

Josh pulled out his mother's rosary out of his shirt to help assure her confidence. "Right here." he muttered.

"Good. Be safe, my son. You are my greatest gift from God."

She hugged and kissed her son goodbye just as Lu returned. The crowd and students went on with the fair. Lu kissed his wife and stepdaughter a farewell and led Joshua outside. There in the middle of the street was the crooked elevator that always appeared inside the Gravely home. Joshua always saw it whenever he was over but never set foot inside it, fearing its demonic power.

"I thought that was part of Rosemary's house?" he asked.

"Oh no," Lu assured his young intern. "This isn't just an elevator. This contraption allows us to travel from your world to mine, crossing through different dimensions in any direction I so choose. What? Did you really think that my world was directly below yours? My boy, you've got a lot to learn, and I'm just the teacher to show you."
#fantasy  #fiction  #horror  #comedy  #sinsofthefather 
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