- Dredwerkz
- |
- Elder Mythic Member
My logic is undeniable.
the.dredwerkz@gmail.com
e-mail me about anything.
Don't send me group invites.
Got a couple of story's not really horror stories but they are walls of text. Did them for my GCSE's
A town at night
The air is still, the foul stench of mechanical beasts is slowly fading away into the fog. Their glowing eyes finally laid to rest giving way to total darkness. A tranquillity pierced by frequent ‘man made’ structures used only to disrupt the contentment of sleep. Not satisfied with the natural wonder of the stars blinking so far away they turn to their own pitiful imitations of a stars majesty. Casting their weak light on the deliberately placed stones uniformly immortalised by the synthetic glue designed only to disturb nature’s progress in re-sculpting the earth. Caves with walls no thicker than tree trunks line up in consistent lines form rows these in turn form columns. Some identical on the inside rendering them useless to personality. The forged stars held up by a cold material shaped into a column only to serve a single purpose. The same material, although beautiful in its many colours prevent the passage into the warmth of the caves. Each one of the barriers as thin as slate but having all the strength of granite, even more baffling are the numerous holes cut into the barrier. Visible, on the other side, magnificent waterfalls each as flat and motionless as the last but all reflecting the light of the true stars. The dense fog reappearing as droplets of water on this surface slowly brought motion back to them. The mechanical beasts have stopped their continuous putrid outward breaths and have come to rest in small cramped areas marked off by white contours on the ground. Never before have I seen so many different creatures sleep in one place so close together and not stir as to disrupt their neighbour. The animals feeding ground is not far away. These creatures do not feed like other animals; they swallow liquids describable only as bile through the side of their stomach to expel it as the all too familiar smoke. Another creature stumbles helplessly onto the stones, and expels the contents of its stomach into a nearby opening to an underground stream. Another of its kind walks past it with none of the clumsiness and does not appear to notice the first. Now in need of food it gets up and returns to its stagger. Slowly weaving past caves that are holding parties of hundreds of these animals it halts again. This time it remains upright. What appears to be its mate approaches and physically supports her. She turns around and points at something; her man straightens up and follows the direction of the finger. The man grasps hold of a third person who panics in the situation. The words come out as a mumble causing the man to tighten his grip. The third party pauses trying to compose himself. He says in his feeble minded autistic voice “please she dropped this” I pull a short cold object out of my pocket not dissimilar to a conifer leaf and hand it to the man. He promptly loosens his grip.
“We are obligated to help you—what? Are you too mentally inadequate for thought to know what we are obligated to help you means?”
“No”—he...I said. “I just... remember things differently”
Hit a snake
The mornings were bright in the office of Senator Kim Dae Jung; his side of the building was facing the east, towards the dense vegetation of Kuri. He stepped up to the flat panel glass to observe the sun washed city streets below, this was by far the tallest building in the city and easily the most expensive. Outside the temperature was a little below freezing, not noticeable to the occupants of these centrally heated offices. He stood there for a while straightening his already immaculate tie, an unconscious movement triggered by intense worry. His brother’s suggestion had made him more tense than the election by itself ever could.
Kim’s secretary knocked twice quietly on the door—“Come”
She entered somewhat uneasy. Having worked with him for the past five years she could sense when there was a problem.
“Your brother’s on the line”
Silence.
“Shall I tell him you’re busy?”
Jung sighed heavily.
“No, I’ll take it.” He said quietly.
He sat down as she left. Twiddling his thumbs waiting for the phone to ring. Jung didn’t answer at first rethinking whether or not he should pick up the receiver. But:
“Hello?”
“Hello, Senator? It’s Syngman.” The impatience at being put on hold was audible in his voice.
“How are you brother?”
“Ok, have you thought about what I said?”
Pretending not to have heard him Kim shunned the question by answering:
“How’s mother? I haven’t seen her lately”
“She’s surviving, barely. It’s only the money that you gave her keeping her alive.” Although the question had only been a change of subject he knew there was concern buried within it. “Look if you’re worried she thinks you’ve lost your love for her, I can tell you not to fret, paying for her treatment couldn’t be more appreciated” Syngman was irritated by mixing business and family and got back to the real reason he called. “I got you a front page story with the independent; working with the north might be why your polls have dropped, in my opinion you’d probably be better not showing them support” The last poll had been conducted by Syngman at Kim’s request. He had appointments overlapping late into the night, so it seemed practical.
Kim broke his silence:
“Whether I win the election or not, Korea should be united not divided.” He said this with a somewhat authoritative tone as though to beat his brother down.
“I think mother would prefer you not to encourage their sadistic ways in the south” Syngman paused, thinking this could spark an argument, the last thing Kim needed. So: “I’ll leave you to think about things. We’ll meet soon brother” and without even waiting for an answer he hung up. Kim knew what he meant when he said think about things; Syngman was tied heavily with corruption. Every man had a price, whether it be in his wallet or over his head.
Two weeks had passed, Kim had turned the polls around completely, had gained support in areas not even he thought would be possible. All question of a fraudulent ending was forgotten. The mail arrived as usual. Seven o’clock on the dot, the familiar sound of a traffic jam so many hundreds of feet below. Before he opened the mail he once again stepped up to the flat panel glass, no adjustment of the tie, he was as confident as he had ever been. Looking down at the crowded streets he couldn’t help but smile. Returning to the mail, paper knife in hand, he opened the first envelope. Nothing interesting, only another enthusiastic sponsor. The second however made him ponder. The paper was dry but crinkled as though it had been soaked in water. The letter had a hallmark he recognised. It was that of the South Korean army. On inspection of the front he noticed there was no address or stamp, only his name.
Kim Dai Jung
Why would someone hand post a letter to an office? More specifically why would someone hand post a letter to his office? To him? Opening the letter was surprisingly tough even with a knife. It contained 8 lines:
During your military service we have evidence, including witnesses;
you did not perform your duties fully whilst in conflict with the north.
This evidence is due to be reviewed in two months.
You do not need to be told this carries capital punishment and exile
for your family. Conclude your campaign, emigrate and you
will not face these charges nor will your family be affected.
If you were to end your campaign the evidence of such happenings
Would be destroyed upon public revelation of your resignation.
Kim immediately picked up the receiver and punched in the number for the family home. He tried to make it seem as if he was only making the call to check on his meal, arranged for him by a very important supporter. The cleaner told him what he was dreading. “Your man arrived and picked them up as you asked; why is something wrong?”
“No; nothing” He hung up.
The police. No, they’re as crooked as a Virginia fence, they probably know about this already. Who would listen?
He thought about it for a while deciding how he would justify himself. Finally he came up with an answer.
Syngman answered his phone with clear annoyance, he had evidently been busy.
“Yes brother?”
“You suggested dire deeds to win this election?”
“Yes Jung I did”
“Do you believe it justified to perform such actions for the sake of someone’s well being?”
“What must be done?”
Kim was stunned, Syngman took no persuading. However it was Syngman who suggested it to Kim first.
“Come to me brother we will talk in person, we can’t take any chances”
He slowly put down the receiver not making the slightest sound.
To Kim the next half hour was the longest of his life. He did nothing but fiddle with his tie; it would have passed parade in the army. It never did when he was serving. He stepped up to the now dark glass panel window, peering down at the empty lamp lit street. Not a person in sight, the administrative part of the city became a ghost town after dark, apart from the odd light illuminating the work of some lonely soul doing overtime. Syngman arrived just as Kim had finished reading the same eight lines for the fiftieth time. “You need me?” he said entering the room.
“Yes, today I received this letter” He passed the letter to Syngman who read it carefully.
“What do you wish to be done?”
“The only thing that matters to me is my family” Kim paused pondering the situation. “This election does not matter to me. It is only a status symbol.” “But my family are my life. This individual does not value life. Especially his own”. “Syngman, if you hit a snake and don’t kill it, you’ll regret it later—Make this thug regret he did not kill me”
“Brother” Syngman changed from a cowering tone to one of utmost supremacy.
Kim was looking at the end of his own existence, represented only by a clump of metal.
“He did”