This Story Is Worth Reading! It looks long but its not when you read it. I wrote it for my English teacher as a Halloween Story. Its Called HallowScream. I hope you enjoy it....
Twelve year old Mark Tamperton, a boy far from home, pulled out a silver, small, and shiny switchblade knife his father had given him many years ago.
A shadow flailed between two, old trees that had lost their color a long time ago.
Beyond the dreadful trees, was a pit full of blackness.
The centering, surrounded by complete darkness, was silent now. Swallowing hard,
Marcus stepped forward. It was his decisional risk to move forth through the black, misty, trail, and danger the forest had to bring.
The lifeless trees made it hard to see behind him. A strange scent filled the night sky's air. Mark would have to grope his way through the risky and dangerous path. The boy decided to stay quiet, but trembled with great fear.
With absolutely nowhere to turn, Mark knew his one and only option. He stepepd forward, clenching his fist, and holding tightly onto the small, sharp knife.
Making Marcus turn his attention to a dull and eerie tree, that could fall down at any unexpected moment, something quickly crashed into the lively bundle of leaves directly under a few branches.
Breathing in the cold, foggy, air, Mark began to speak, "Who's there? Timothy, is th-that you?"
Marcus had to admitt how much he did NOT want to go look for himself, especially when he was alone. Something shook in the bundle of bright, fall leaves, knocking off a few orange and red ones.
The leaves whirled and rustled on the soft and muddy Earth. Mark backed up into an old, dark, mysterious tree trunk that was worn down by years of weathering.
The trunk quickly snapped from the top, tumblimg down the small mound the tree had once stooden on. Sticks and twigs crashed their way to the ground, as they followed directly behind.
Mark jumped upward in great, fierce, action to avoid the falling tree. "Timothy! Now, this isnt funny! where are youuuu!"
The loud and frightful whirling wind made it almost impossible to hear.
"If this is some kind of set-up, I'll t--" Mark paused, realizing his theat would NOT make things any better. He then continued onward, holding his shoulders in the form of a cross, to stay warm.
Searching the cold, hard, rocky, ground, Marcus stopped a familiar gate. Except this one had an old, rusty metal locket chained in between where the doors held together loosely.
"Things just get worse, huh? Tim, how could you leave your younger brother out in the woods at almost mid-night?"
Nobody answered, but he heard a voice from a big and round bush. Was it Timothy Tamperton? As he began to back away slowly, he fell onto the cold, hard, unwelcoming, ground with discourage. What could he do?
The voice sounded familiar now, but marcus couldn't manage to solve and unscramble the many letters. By a few minutes later, there it was! And this time, it almost matched Timmy's.
Suddenly, the bushes rumbled. "T-T-Tim?"
Suprisingly, a tall, skinny boy with light brown hair, wearing an orange shirt with black pants unexpectedly stepped out from the hill of leaves.
"Boo!" he shouted, "wait a second..Marcus?"
Marcus hung his head low and responded, "I knew it was you, anyways, what?"
"Well first, stop with your little brave act. And second, what are you doing here?"
"Guess I was running from nothing but a harmless little squirrel wearing clothes," replied Marcus.
"Wow! Was that you?" said Timmothy.
"Of course it was me! Who else would you try to scare?" Marcus replied angrily.
"Phil..." Tim began, "I would try to scare Phil, and thats exactly who I thought you were. But then you said younger brother back there, and I got quite confused. Afterall, you two DO sound alike..."
Marcus knodded his head in silent agreement. A grin appeared across his face when he had realised there was nothing to be scared about.
"Maybe I'll get him next time?" suggested Tim. "Well its getting chilly out here. How about we go home? We should of been back about an hour ago.."
Home. The idea of it sounded pleasing to Marcus.
The two brothers headed for an exit out from the spooky woods. Marcus held his brother close to him tightly. He was just glad he got to go home.
When they reached their house, the lights were on, but their parents' car was NOT there.
"Uhhh, Timothy, have you gone to the house, yet?"
"No, I believe not. I always shut the lights off."
"What about mom and dad?"
"They go crazy if I don't shut them off.." replied Timothy.
He sat down by the road for a quick break, whiping the sweat off of his forhead.
Marcus made his way to the front door.
"Locked..." he said.
They were locked out! Well wasn't this bad? Were they just suppose to freeze to death!?
Following behind marcus, was heavy footsteps. Marcus turned and began to speak, "Timothy, do you ha--" dropping his switchblade knife, a mysterious tall, man with a curled stache and a strange face had his eyes fixed on the boy. Mark searched for his knife.
Briefly searching the ground, the man clicked a blade. In his hand, believe it or not, was the shiny, sharp, metal switchblade pocket knife.
Mark let out quite a scream..
In a matter of seconds, they were gone.
Interupted, Tim stopped searching for the key in his pocket, and ran directly for the door.
A tad late, or extremley late, Timothy made it in time to see NOTHING! All that was left was a ripped off and torn peice of cloth that matched his brothers shirt. He held it closely, trying to hold back the cold, wet tears. Inside the cloth, was something sharp. Pulling it out gently, the switchblade knife slipped out and hit the ground...
(This story was NOT copied. I wrote it in real life, and decided to share it. I really liked it.
Please do not copy and paste this story. The rightful owner of this story is GreyPaw The Warrior. Hoped you really enjoyed it. Please Rate it a 5 out of 5. Thank--you!)
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