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Here's a story I just wrote. Its alright, nothing special. I havenen't been writing many recently, concentrating on my novel. Anyway, comment please, and above all, enjoy!
Trevor threw down the evening paper in disgust. The headline “Animorph Strikes Again” was the reason of his annoyance. Trevor was a scientific man, and he believed there was a scientific explanation for everything, which is why he thought the Animorph story to be complete rubbish. Imagine, he though, someone having the power to morph into an animal! And then, after that, they could gain access to peoples homes, then disembowel them!! Trevor gave a snort of disgust. Another crack-pot media story thought up in a vain effort to persuade more people to purchase their scum filled newspapers. Certainly, the horrific murders had occurred, but they were probably committed by some junkie who had went one pop to far. And the witnesses who supposedly saw these people turn into animals were probably fresh out of a psychiatric home. Trevor sighed and stretched out in his armchair, shrugging his slippers of his feet and slipping his reading glasses back into their green pouch. He got up and stretched again, and then put the iron screen back across the fire that was dying slowly in the fireplace. He turned off the light, then closed the door to the living room and slowly climbed up the staircase.
Trevor crawled into his cold bed, then turned off the bedside lamp and snuggled down into the covers. He was going to read, but had tired out his eyes with that accursed newspaper. Besides, it was too late and he was tired, now he just wanted to sleep.
But Trevor did not sleep well. It took him a long time, and just when he was in the process of drifting off and thinking pleasant thoughts, he heard a noise from downstairs that immediately jolted him back to reality. Worried that it might be the fire, Trevor hopped out of bed and walked quickly to the door. He opened it, and when he did, he saw a shadowed figure moving quickly down he stairs. Trevor nearly collapsed in fright, but he told himself to think clearly, what he had seen was merely a trick of the light. Still, he advanced slowly, and tentatively peeked over the banister. Reassured because he didn’t see anything. He made his way carefully down the stairs but stopped halfway down, smelling something pungent in the air. It was like when he visited his brother Dan at his work in the slaughterhouse, and he could smell the freshly cut out cow organs. Holding his nose, Trevor moved down to the bottom of the stairs, but stopped when he heard a scratching. His heart in his throat, Trevor was about to flee upstairs when the maker of the noise appeared from the living room door which was now open. Trevor heaved a sigh of relief. It was only the cat! But as it started to walk towards him, Trevor realized something.
He didn’t have a cat.
Trevor threw down the evening paper in disgust. The headline “Animorph Strikes Again” was the reason of his annoyance. Trevor was a scientific man, and he believed there was a scientific explanation for everything, which is why he thought the Animorph story to be complete rubbish. Imagine, he though, someone having the power to morph into an animal! And then, after that, they could gain access to peoples homes, then disembowel them!! Trevor gave a snort of disgust. Another crack-pot media story thought up in a vain effort to persuade more people to purchase their scum filled newspapers. Certainly, the horrific murders had occurred, but they were probably committed by some junkie who had went one pop to far. And the witnesses who supposedly saw these people turn into animals were probably fresh out of a psychiatric home. Trevor sighed and stretched out in his armchair, shrugging his slippers of his feet and slipping his reading glasses back into their green pouch. He got up and stretched again, and then put the iron screen back across the fire that was dying slowly in the fireplace. He turned off the light, then closed the door to the living room and slowly climbed up the staircase.
Trevor crawled into his cold bed, then turned off the bedside lamp and snuggled down into the covers. He was going to read, but had tired out his eyes with that accursed newspaper. Besides, it was too late and he was tired, now he just wanted to sleep.
But Trevor did not sleep well. It took him a long time, and just when he was in the process of drifting off and thinking pleasant thoughts, he heard a noise from downstairs that immediately jolted him back to reality. Worried that it might be the fire, Trevor hopped out of bed and walked quickly to the door. He opened it, and when he did, he saw a shadowed figure moving quickly down he stairs. Trevor nearly collapsed in fright, but he told himself to think clearly, what he had seen was merely a trick of the light. Still, he advanced slowly, and tentatively peeked over the banister. Reassured because he didn’t see anything. He made his way carefully down the stairs but stopped halfway down, smelling something pungent in the air. It was like when he visited his brother Dan at his work in the slaughterhouse, and he could smell the freshly cut out cow organs. Holding his nose, Trevor moved down to the bottom of the stairs, but stopped when he heard a scratching. His heart in his throat, Trevor was about to flee upstairs when the maker of the noise appeared from the living room door which was now open. Trevor heaved a sigh of relief. It was only the cat! But as it started to walk towards him, Trevor realized something.
He didn’t have a cat.
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I'll find the link, and you can weep in your pretty little pillow - i'm off to find my story!
Its a story. His brother worked at the slaughterhouse because it his job. Who knows why he was targetted?. Its a story. Its better than anything you could produce I daresay. I salute your petty mind, Tribute.
That was poor, random and crap.
Why did he get killed? Why did his brother work at a slaughter house? Why did HE get targeted?
you need to add a lot more for it to stop being retarded.
Why did he get killed? Why did his brother work at a slaughter house? Why did HE get targeted?
you need to add a lot more for it to stop being retarded.
You homo, you stole that from the book.
Homo.
cool story
Homo.
cool story
Here's a story I just wrote. Its alright, nothing special. I havenen't been writing many recently, concentrating on my novel. Anyway, comment please, and above all, enjoy!
Trevor threw down the evening paper in disgust. The headline “Animorph Strikes Again” was the reason of his annoyance. Trevor was a scientific man, and he believed there was a scientific explanation for everything, which is why he thought the Animorph story to be complete rubbish. Imagine, he though, someone having the power to morph into an animal! And then, after that, they could gain access to peoples homes, then disembowel them!! Trevor gave a snort of disgust. Another crack-pot media story thought up in a vain effort to persuade more people to purchase their scum filled newspapers. Certainly, the horrific murders had occurred, but they were probably committed by some junkie who had went one pop to far. And the witnesses who supposedly saw these people turn into animals were probably fresh out of a psychiatric home. Trevor sighed and stretched out in his armchair, shrugging his slippers of his feet and slipping his reading glasses back into their green pouch. He got up and stretched again, and then put the iron screen back across the fire that was dying slowly in the fireplace. He turned off the light, then closed the door to the living room and slowly climbed up the staircase.
Trevor crawled into his cold bed, then turned off the bedside lamp and snuggled down into the covers. He was going to read, but had tired out his eyes with that accursed newspaper. Besides, it was too late and he was tired, now he just wanted to sleep.
But Trevor did not sleep well. It took him a long time, and just when he was in the process of drifting off and thinking pleasant thoughts, he heard a noise from downstairs that immediately jolted him back to reality. Worried that it might be the fire, Trevor hopped out of bed and walked quickly to the door. He opened it, and when he did, he saw a shadowed figure moving quickly down he stairs. Trevor nearly collapsed in fright, but he told himself to think clearly, what he had seen was merely a trick of the light. Still, he advanced slowly, and tentatively peeked over the banister. Reassured because he didn’t see anything. He made his way carefully down the stairs but stopped halfway down, smelling something pungent in the air. It was like when he visited his brother Dan at his work in the slaughterhouse, and he could smell the freshly cut out cow organs. Holding his nose, Trevor moved down to the bottom of the stairs, but stopped when he heard a scratching. His heart in his throat, Trevor was about to flee upstairs when the maker of the noise appeared from the living room door which was now open. Trevor heaved a sigh of relief. It was only the cat! But as it started to walk towards him, Trevor realized something.
He didn’t have a cat.
Trevor threw down the evening paper in disgust. The headline “Animorph Strikes Again” was the reason of his annoyance. Trevor was a scientific man, and he believed there was a scientific explanation for everything, which is why he thought the Animorph story to be complete rubbish. Imagine, he though, someone having the power to morph into an animal! And then, after that, they could gain access to peoples homes, then disembowel them!! Trevor gave a snort of disgust. Another crack-pot media story thought up in a vain effort to persuade more people to purchase their scum filled newspapers. Certainly, the horrific murders had occurred, but they were probably committed by some junkie who had went one pop to far. And the witnesses who supposedly saw these people turn into animals were probably fresh out of a psychiatric home. Trevor sighed and stretched out in his armchair, shrugging his slippers of his feet and slipping his reading glasses back into their green pouch. He got up and stretched again, and then put the iron screen back across the fire that was dying slowly in the fireplace. He turned off the light, then closed the door to the living room and slowly climbed up the staircase.
Trevor crawled into his cold bed, then turned off the bedside lamp and snuggled down into the covers. He was going to read, but had tired out his eyes with that accursed newspaper. Besides, it was too late and he was tired, now he just wanted to sleep.
But Trevor did not sleep well. It took him a long time, and just when he was in the process of drifting off and thinking pleasant thoughts, he heard a noise from downstairs that immediately jolted him back to reality. Worried that it might be the fire, Trevor hopped out of bed and walked quickly to the door. He opened it, and when he did, he saw a shadowed figure moving quickly down he stairs. Trevor nearly collapsed in fright, but he told himself to think clearly, what he had seen was merely a trick of the light. Still, he advanced slowly, and tentatively peeked over the banister. Reassured because he didn’t see anything. He made his way carefully down the stairs but stopped halfway down, smelling something pungent in the air. It was like when he visited his brother Dan at his work in the slaughterhouse, and he could smell the freshly cut out cow organs. Holding his nose, Trevor moved down to the bottom of the stairs, but stopped when he heard a scratching. His heart in his throat, Trevor was about to flee upstairs when the maker of the noise appeared from the living room door which was now open. Trevor heaved a sigh of relief. It was only the cat! But as it started to walk towards him, Trevor realized something.
He didn’t have a cat.
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