=[

I must leave OSS...I am sorry.

What Lies Beneath (re-post. extended)

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Have you ever once been young? If you have then you will understand this story and the mind of the child in it. If not then you might as well close this book and dig around for your boring old New York Times magazines. If you remember what it's was like, or better yet, you are a kid then continue reading. This story will open up your mind to what everyone has once thought in their life. 'What lies beneath?' When we are young we play games; we go out and explore what the world has never shown us. Children look for new things to discover. They shrug their shoulders at danger and defy all odds. They are incapable of getting hurt, or so they think. However, when they go to bed they run and jump in it with fear of what lies beneath it.
They call their mother  or father to kiss them a sweet sleep and turn off the light then attempt to drift into a dream. It is then that the immeasurable thoughts of what lies beneath petrifies the mind with distress, imagination runs wild and fear sets in. Has anyone ever checked what was under the bed? What could be under such a dark and hideous expanse..?

Back in the town of whats-its-name lived a young girl who always wondered about what was under her bed. When she was five she thought it best to leave her mattress on the floor...that is until her grandmother gave her a new bed to reward her for the transitioning from the age of ten to eleven. The girl lay awake at night wondering in fear, 'what lies beneath the bed'?
One night at the age of twelve she was able to obtain the courage to bend down and look under her bed, it took the same amount of courage to even muster up the thought of it.
She bent over, her curly locks of red hair fell as she peeked her little eyes under to see into the unfamiliar darkness. Every worst-case thought ran through her young mind. Would she be sucked up by some strange unknown force? Would a giant spider jump on her face and bite her, condemning her to death by poison? Or perhaps a little pixi come and give her magical dust so that she could fly to Neverland?
The girl lifted the covers, as she did there was a movement in the shadows, it was quick and vague but had enough power to make her throw back the covers, lift back on top of her bed and shriek loudly. Sounds of footsteps raced upto her room, her mother rushed in and started to frantically look about "Sable, what is wrong?" Asked the now calm mother still looking for anything unfamiliar.

"I saw a monster! It was dark and in the shadows under my bed and moved quickly. It was scary!" Sable kicked her feet beneath her bed covers.

 She looked at her daughter quivering beneath the blanket. "Don't you remember the last time you 'saw' something under your bed? It was a dream. You were just dreaming again Sable." she bent over and looked under Sable's bed to comfort her by showing that there was indeed nothing there. However, Much to her surprise there was something. So Sable's mother dropped to her knees like a child who saw a toy of interest; crawling under the bed she yelled
"Found it!" while pulling out a stuffed cat from underneath the bed "It was only your stuffed cat charlie. You saw no monster."

"But I saw it move! Charlie can't move, he's just a stuffed toy.." the young freckled girl looked about the room anxiously.
"Never mind now Sable. Off to bed with you!"

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OSS Poll

So far what is your favorite Our Super Stories story? Leave a comment and let us know. Us the writers (Miztermuzik, LunaPuma, eb_fourside) will tell our favorite story as well.


Mine being The Complainer by LunaPuma
What's yours?

The Carrot On A Mission

~DAY ONE~

I...am a carrot. I sit in a plastic bag all day, awaiting The Great Unknown. My fellow carrots wait with me, not knowing what to expect. There are stories from the other foods. They tell us that others came before us, but they soon left and never returned. I plan to take control of my fate, and be the first carrot to return to the fridge.


~DAY TWO~

So far, nothing of great interest has happened. There are rumors going around that today is Tuesday, meaning tomorrow is Soup Day. I'm a bit nervous, but I trust I will be victorious in the fight for survival.


~DAY THREE~

(no entry)


~DAY FOUR~

I spent all of yesterday recovering from a viscous attack that came a few hours earlier than expected. There I was, thinking up my escape plan, when the fridge suddenly lit up, blinding all that were in it. Just as I was finally getting adjusted to this, something reached out from the light and grabbed me! I hardly had time to react before I was thrown onto a cold, smooth surface, my top being held down with such a force I thought I would go through the strange new surface. All of a sudden, I saw the figure which had grabbed me from the fridge raise a shiny blade. It was in that moment that I became aware of what was about to happen. I refused to scream as the blade chopped through my lower half time and time again. The pain was intense, everlasting, incredible. Eventually, it ended, and I was thrown back into the fridge, where I would spend the next few hours recovering slowly. I think that if it weren't for my abnormally long carrot body, I would have went where all the other lost foods have gone. I fear the remains of my body won't last very long...


TO BE CONTINUED...

idk what to call this

(My bro wrote this a long while back... I just wanted to post it here on OSS.. So enjoy!)

A gentle breeze, blows noon day;a wide blue sky and the trees that stay.Reminders of the lovers heart,for which there is no end or start.Golden leaves fills thine eyes,to wither there be none but cries.The light that shines is thy beauty and love,never greater revealed than the dove.To which you and I find forgiveness of sin,That is where our love begins..

Retroness from paper..

Okay, so this was written back in 2006-2007ish , but it is something new to this blog. I had to fix it up quite a bit ^^' odd thing is I don't even remember writing this. I just found the paper in my bag of old drawings. Its kinda dark... sorry about that.. O_o

Where have you gone O wondrous sky? My heart is broken in two.
Where have you gone O faithful moon who always stayed in the night?
In sky's of black no stared hope is found, only drips of blood from fallen-
hopes with the sorrows of many

Where O death is your satisfaction? How long will you brake me?
Where O hope is your promising shine, where is your victory? In what do you promise me safety?
In pale black light which many stand and fallen dreams are made.
There is no life there is no hope on the damaged hill we all stand.

 

The Man Named John Pickle (written by me and luna!)

One day, a young man who went by the name of John Pickle was walking on the wing of an airplane. As the passengers on the inside of the plane watched anxiously as John teetered on the edge of the wing, a Phoenix suddenly swooped down and knocked John back. Confuzzled, John turned into a penguin and began to fight the Phoenix. The Phoenix, mad that John the Pickled Penguin was attacking him after saving his life, pecked John's leg, making him handicapped and therefore vulnerable. But alas! To the Phoenix's great surprise, John the Pickled Penguin was actually Wolverine, and the wound on his leg was instantly healed! Wolverine growled and made to swing at the fiery bird, but the Phoenix suddenly threw itself at Wolverine's face, then exploded into a huge fireball of doom, melting away Wolverine's skin on his face and showing off his adamantium skull. The ladies on board the airplane suddenly went gaga over the handsome, metal hero, and went out on the wing of the airplane and ran to him.Wolverine, never one to let the love of ladies get to his head, waved to the mob of women, then flipped backwards off the plane and into the sky. The foolish women were so infatuated with the Wolverine, that they also jumped off the airplane and began diving for him, and the Wolverine now had a choice to make. He could either save all these screaming fan girls and risk his life in the process, or he could save just himself and let the women fall to their doom. "What would Obama do?" he asked himself.  Well, that was an easy one. After watching all the women fall to the ground with sickening thuds, Wolverine closed his eyes, frowned, and suddenly transported himself to his secret cabin in the woods.There, he sat down and read the hit classic "Little Women". Right as Wolverine was beginning to tear up at Beth's death, there was a knock on the door.It was Obama. "Wolverine, I'd like to offer you a job so great, that you'll be known as a hero throughout these 52 states!" Clearly Obama was deranged, so Wolverine slammed the door in the Presidents face. Just as Wolverine was fixing to sit back down, there was a terrible blast, and the whole of Wolverine's front wall was gone.  Obama stood there with a combat suit on and a rocket launcher in hand...This was war. "Can't a guy ever get a break around here?" grumbled Wolverine as he slowly unsheathed his claws. "No, he cannot!" Obama screamed as he began shooting missiles at Wolverine. It was obvious that Wolverine was skilled in the art of parkour, as he performed a perfect launch over the missiles. Planting a foot on the flying missile, time slowed down as the Wolverine jumped from the missile with his claws extended, impaling them right into the heart of Obama, but the Wolverine found out a terrible secret as the President died. Obama was actually a woman. The Wolverine felt a terrible burden when he realized that he had killed a woman. In order to keep Obama's secret, Wolverine carried the corpse to the back of the cabin, where he had a plethora of hiding spots. He shoved the corpse into an Xbox 360 box and buried it. "Well, that takes care of that weirdo." Wolverine turned back into John Pickle, and continued to read "Little Women".

The End!

I did not write this

This is a project that my sister is working on. It's only the very first part thus the story continues! (She will only let me post this little bit online) annnnd she made me change the names. =p she wants feedback on it so I told her I'd post it here because I was due a new post anyway... please leave feedback for her and enjoy!


-----------------------------(Desolation of the Theians)--------


Fire and destruction raged in a small land called Thea with most of the men killed along with the life stock and crop, homes burned as the massacre continued finding its way to the male nobles though taking the women and children. After which they manually took up the king and queen slaying them along with their children thus vanquishing the royal blood of Thea. Torches and wooden rods were savagely thrown through the grand wooden framed windows of the castle. Two knights took a screaming sixteen year old boy from within the castle which they knew as the one of the nobles son named Navid.

"Mother!" As they drug a women from within the young man struggled beneath the mens brutal grip bruising his tanned arms. Women and children were gathered together by three knights riding horses on each side leading them in the direction toward their kingdom.

A high ranked knight approached the boy named Navid watching as he tried to battle off the knights. He managed to kick the one of the left in the shin in which they threw him to the ground and both knights began beating upon him ruthlessly. The high ranked knight stood for a moment then with a roar of his voice halted the assault. Navid lay on the ground helpless and moaning from the fierce pain, he began to cough as the knights grabbed each of his arms forcing him to his feet though he could hardly stand on his own dropping his head.

"Sir Ulric what shall we do, take the whelps life as we did the others?" Asked the man to the left of the boy. Navid lifted his head to look into the eyes of the man they call Sir Ulric, he saw the mans intense brown eyes looking directly into his pathetic stare. The lines on his face revealed his grim character, his mouth had a certain authority about him which seemed to persuade anyone who heard his strong voice to do his bidding.

"No, I wish for him to bare the pain of being the last of his filthy race, the last man of his kind." He bore a smug grin with the thought that seemed to amuse him.

"Sir, what is it that you wish for us to do?" Ulric glanced beneath his feet reaching down taking up a piece wood that was already half burned looking at the young boy.

"I have a small parting gift for our young Theian." He threw the board into one of the spreading fires drawing his sword putting it in the flame. Navid began to struggle hard within the grasp of his holders at the sight of the orange metal. The high ranked knight approached the unfortunate boys face with the glowing metal blade.

Meanwhile the knights led the Theians to the outskirts of their kingdom. A knight rode up to the group of people scanning around, the children clung to their mothers dress burrowing their sobbing faces into them. "Take the boys, we don't want them breeding!" The knights entered the crowed of women then began seizing the male children. "Take most of the old, they will die soon anyway! Keep the young ones, they may be of some use."
Screams and shouts of terror filled that field along with the blood of innocent Theians which Navid that day swore to avenge along with the blood of the royal family.

So. I misled you, dear reader. I still haven't posted anything. Please excuse my lack of creative writing. =(

Update!

Good evening to you all! I have decided that the fans deserve a blog update. So, here's what's new!

First off, one of our writers, eb_fourside, will be taking a break from our rule about writing something at least once a week. Don't worry! Our dear writer will try to write when she can, it just won't be as often for awhile.

The next update is that Miztermuzik is well past due for a story of some sort, but he also has taken leave due to a family vacation! Fret not though, because I'm sure once he gets back and is settled, you can expect something new from him.

Lastly, I, LunaPuma, am due for a short story of some sort. I'm hoping that my fellow bloggers and fans will forgive me for being a day late, but rest assured that I WILL be posting something tomorrow!

Remember that we at OSS are always looking for new writers! Poets, authors, song writers, or speech makers, we welcome all! Goodnight and fare thee well!

The Complainer

Once upon a time, there was a young girl. She wasn't ugly, she wasn't unattractive, she was just flawed in appearances in very minor ways. Though only minor, the girl complained about her looks every single minute of every single day.

"I hate my hair!", she would say as she raked a comb through her curly blond locks.

"I hate my eye color!", she would say as she looked at the two green emeralds in the mirror.

"I hate my hands!", she would say as she played piano smoothly.

"I hate my freckles!", she would say as she scrunched up her cutely freckled nose.

And she would continue on in this manner continuously. It became so bad, that her friends had all left her, the suitors stopped coming, and even her cat had started to avoid her.

"Oh, how I wish I were different! I wish I could change my looks!", the girl cried one day to no one in particular. No sooner had she said those words when a small pop! was heard next to her ear.

"I can help with that, my dear.", said a small voice into her ear.

"Hello? Who's there?", the girl asked.

"I am Seraphina, and I'm here to grant your wishes."

The girl sighed mournfully. "I'm afraid that it would take more than just 3 wishes to change what I want changed."

There was a sound like little bells, as though the voice was laughing. "Why, who said anything about just 3 wishes? You're thinking of genies, my dear. This is real. Wish until you feel as though you shouldn't wish anymore."

The girl, eager to change her appearance, wasted no time.

"Iwishthatmyhairweredifferentandthatmyhandsweredifferentandthatmyeyesweredifferentandthatmyfrecklesweren'tthereandthatmybuildwasdifferentandthatmyvoicewasabitlouderandthatmyfeetweresmaller!" the girl said in one very quick breath.

"And so it shall be done.", the voice said somewhat mischievously. "Look in the mirror, my dear girl."

The girl turned and looked into the mirror, then screamed bloody murder.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

The person in the mirror was no longer only somewhat flawed. They were VERY flawed. The girl's hair, once a beautiful golden color and curled, was now nothing more than an orangey wisp upon her head. Her eyes that used to be the envy of all who seen them were now some shade of brown that could only be described as mud. And there was more!

Her feet were now the size of baby feet, her build was lumpy in some places and her arms went almost to her knees. Her hands were missing fingers, her freckles had clustered together to make one huge mole that covered her entire nose, and her voice. Oh her voice! It was now a boom whenever she spoke, instead of it's once-upon-a-time polite whisper.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!", the girl asked once more.

The bells could be heard again. "I've done nothing more than grant your wishes, child. Enjoy them, for you truly deserved them!" and with another soft pop!, Seraphina was gone.

The moral of this story is, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

The Very Fat Man

There once was a very fat man
Who lived in the town of Flann.
This man had a hobby of the glutenous sort.
He liked to eat, and considered it a sport.
Most sport requires action, but this didn't suit him at all.
So he took up eating and in the end, it was his downfall.

He started the day with 12 dozen eggs,
And bacon, and porridge, and beer by the keg.
And toast, and ham, and bread made of rye.
And for dessert, an extra large minced pie.

After his first meal was complete,
He sat there a second, then looked at his feet.
"There's no way I could even attempt to stand up!"
He said thoughtfully, as he re-filled his cup.
"I suppose I'll just have to sit here and feast."
And feast he did, not worried in the least.

Dinner was every bit as grand as the first meal.
What with all the sandwiches, soups, and veal.
And all the pasta, and pizza, and mead.
Ah yes, it was a grand meal indeed.

The very fat man, growing fatter by the minute,
Figured that since this was a sport, he was in it to win it.
"I'll eat and I'll eat and I'll never quit!"
Oh, if only he knew what he was about to get.

Supper consisted of a great many dishes,
Of casseroles, of desserts, of a variety of fishes.
Of breads, and meat, and food galore!
And yet, the man kept wanting more.

"I shall win!", the man said as he ate a lamp chop.
"I shall not Loo-", then POP!
The man who thought eating a game
Was very suddenly put to shame.

No longer is there a man of vast weight,
For he continued eating, thus sealing his fate.
He ate until he could hold no more,
And now we see that this game held no score.
He finished the food and the food finished him.
Now tell me, which of the two really did win?

Poll results

LunaPuma has won the popularity vote by a heaping 6 votes! Congrats LunaPuma! *theme song goes here*

Second place the ever so musically talented Miztermuzik with 2 votes, Great job!

Unfortunately for eb_fourside and Risu-Chan they have been given 0 votes...
Another poll will be up soon. Thanks for voting!

Short Story

People ever rarely take the time to enjoy the beauty of nature and the environment surrounding them. I used to be this way. I didn't care a thing about enjoying what God has created for us. The masterpiece that is Earth. A busy person, such as myself in the past, never had time for it. They always run from one place to another, never taking a moment to relax. It's always work, work, and more work! Busy, busy, busy.

My deceased wife, Marie, was the one person I knew who enjoyed everything that was given to her. She never had to work for anything. We had no kids, and I supported her. I am glad to say that my wife had a very good life, and everyday she reminded me of how blessed we were to have each other, and the big and small things that God had given us.

The day I received a phone called from my local hospital, my life changed forever. My wife had been in a serious car accident, and was barely breathing. Everything, even time, seemed to freeze in that moment. The love of my life was fighting for her life in a hospital bed, and I wasn't there. I am thankful that God kept her alive in time for me to see her face one last time.

I sat in that room for hours, holding her hand and praying that God would save her life. She opened her eyes and looked at me, and the last thing she ever said to me was, "I am finally going home to be with our Father. Don't waste the time you have left by mourning over me. I'll be safe with God. God still has something for you to do, so do it. I love you, Steven."

They were the sweetest words my wife had ever said to me. She closed her eyes and smiled, and then in a single moment, she was gone. Tears filled my eyes in seconds, and I cried the whole day. The only thing that mattered to me was gone. I made one final promise to her. I would do what she asked.

It always seems that when a person is at his lowest and most depressing time, is when he finally realizes his need for a Savior, and a need to change. It's when they finally become sincere, and finally change. Not because they will it, but because they want it. After my wife passed away, I quit my job. I took all the money I had, bought a house in the mountains, and I have lived in the same house for 20 years.

I had no need for electricity, or the pleasures that many people had. I was content, and still am, with my little log house, my Bible, and the beautiful land that God created.

As I write this on my porch, I stare at the beautiful blue sky, with the white, puffy clouds gliding slowly across the vast expanse. How wonderful! The Evergreen's and Pine's that stretch across the land as far as the eye can see is magnificent. Even the very ground is a wonder to look at!

To this day I have kept my promise, and I will gladly keep it until my life is over. I still miss the comfort and joy that my wife emitted and the love that we shared, but I honestly believe had she not died, I would still be a busy person, never taking the time to truly appreciate my blessings. I will one day see my wife again, but how much more I look forward to being with my Father! One day, "busy" will no longer exist, and that's completely fine with me.

What lies beneath.. (pt 1)

Have you ever once been young? If you have then you will understand this story fully. If not then you might as well close this book and dig around for your boring old New York Times magazines.
If you have been a kid, or better yet, you are a kid then continue reading.  This story will open up your mind to what everyone has once thought  in their life. What lies beneath? 
When we are young; we play games. We go out and explore what the world has never shown us, children  look for new things to discover. They shrug their shoulders at danger and defy all odds they are incapable of getting hurt.. or so they think. However, when they go to bed they run and jump on the bed in fear of what lies beneath it. They call their mother to kiss them a sweet sleep and turn off the light then attempt to drift into a dream.  It  is then that the immeasurable thoughts of what lies beneath petrifies the mind with distress, imagination runs wild and fear sets in the depths of the mind.  Has anyone ever checked what was under the bed? What could be under such a dark and hideous expanse..

(yes I know this is short...)

An Adventure In Wonderland

"TIME FOR TEA!" the Mad Hatter exclaimed, his eyes a shiny emerald color. "We shall have tea on this very merry day and it shall be good tea indeed! Who here likes elephants?"

"Elephants?" the Door Mouse asked sleepily. "Elephants are much too large for my taste."

"Yes, I agree, Hatter. Pick something more Hare sized, will you?" The March Hare's eyes gave a twitch. "I'd rather not think about something so large."

The Hatter's face got a slightly puzzled expression before lighting up again. "I've got it! We'll talk about spoons!"

"Spoons! Why, I love spoons!" The March Hare jumped up and brandished his spoon like a sword. "I shall use my spoon to conquer the Red Queen. Off with her head!"

The Hatter gasped. "Hare! You really mustn't say things like that!" he looked over his shoulder, then under the table, then in his shoe before speaking again. "You never know who could be listening." he whispered.

The March Hare hiccuped. "Oh, blast it! Who cares who hears me? OFF WITH HER HEAD! OFF WITH HER HEAD! OFF WITH HER HEAD! OFF WITH HER BLOODY HUGE BULBOUS MONSTROUS PUMPKIN SHE CALLS A HEAD!" The Hare began to laugh insanely, waking the Door Mouse.

The Door Mouse looked at the Hare with bored eyes. "Perhaps one too many spoonfuls of sugar, Hatter?"

The Hatter cringed in response, for now the Hare was running in circles, knocking things off the table with his spoon. "Take that, saucer! And that, tea cup! Oh, thought you'd get away, did you? Take that!" And with the last "that", the Door Mouse and his tea pot went flying off of the table and into the sink where the Hatter liked to wash his feet.

The Hatter tried to calm the Hare down a bit. "Now Hare, really, there's no reason to be so obnoxious. Why don't you calm down a bit and drink some of this marvelous tea I've ma-"

Before the Hatter could finish, the Hare had splashed all of his tea into the Hatter's face and began shaking his bottom in the Hatter's general direction. Purposely disposing of one's tea was the highest form of insult, and the Hatter would have none of it.

The Hatter, his moods so easily triggered, began to turn. His eyes were no longer emerald, but a ruby red color. His pupils were dilated, giving him the impression of a very colorful, very scary shark. His face flushed, and his British accent was gone, replaced by a Scottish accent instead.

"Why you dirty no good sad excuse for a hare! How dare yee disrupt MY tea party! If I could send the bogies on yee, I would! Aye, I wish they'd take yee and give yee the beating of a life time! How dare yee think yee can march in here and ruin my tea party?!"

And with that, the Mad Hatter lunged at the March Hare, who had stopped laughing long enough to notice that the Hatter was no longer himself. The Hatter grabbed the Hare by the ears and thrusted him back into his chair.

"You will sit here and you will drink your tea, so help me, or I will bloody well cut off your head meself!"

The Hatter stomped around the table and flopped into the head chair. The Door Mouse squeaked from over at the sink. "H-h-hatter?"

"What do you want, you useless creature?" the Hatter growled.

"I-i-i think I'd rather enjoy a cup of tea, if you don't mind."

The Hatter, bless his heart, instantly switched his mood around, becoming once again the sweet yet slightly mad Hatter.

"Why, what a delightful idea, Door Mouse! One lump or two?"

Something Random I Wrote

I'd like to think that my life has meaning. I'd like to think that there is someone in this world for me. I'd like to think that I will make a difference. I'd like to think that I will be a hero, and that millions of people will look to me when the hour seems darkest, but it's only what I'd like to think. Unfortunately, that fantasy came true, only the unfortunate part is that I was not the hero, but a villain. I changed millions of lives, but that change was only of either death or destruction. I made a difference. I was the one who made heroes rise up and defeat the evil in this world. I was the one that sparked a war between the good and the bad. Millions looked at me, but they were disgusted, and I was hated, but I didn't care. I hated them as well. Who am I? My name is Villain. I am here to destroy Hero.

Brutal Love Square (Part IV)

"He's still alive?" asked Raoul.

The Phantom stood there, breathing heavily. He nodded his head, and then raised his sword in front of him.

"Christine is MINE!" shouted the Phantom.

Raoul put Christine behind him and he took out his own sword, and crossed his blade with the Phantom's blade.

"Erik! Raoul! Stop this at once! I choose who I love, and nobody can make that decision for me!"

"Erik?" questioned Raoul. "So, you ARE just a man! I knew it! You aren't a ghost! You are pathetic!"

Erik brought his sword back and swung a mighty blow toward Raoul's head. He knocked the sword from his hand and in one swift movement, he spun and drove the sword into Raoul's heart. Christine screamed and Erik laughed. Erik ripped the sword out of Raoul's chest, and Raoul fell backwards, and died as soon as he hit the ground.

Christine fell at Raoul's side and began to weep. Erik grabbed her arm and pulled her from the dead corpse, and took her from the cemetery and entered the woods once again.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" screamed Christine as loud as she could.

Erik ignored her bitter words and continued to drag her through the forest. It was time that he disappeared forever, with Christine.

While they ran, a voice boomed from somewhere in the forest. It seemed like it came from all directions. "One fool dead, another soon to die!"

Erik took out his sword and spun quickly, seeking the voice of Ryan.

"I'M HERE!"

Erik spun around with his sword held at the level of his eyes and clashed with Ryan's sword.

"Hello, Erik. We meet again, for the final time. It is clear that wickedness has consumed you, and Christine deserves an angel. You must die!"

So began the final fight, that would determine Christine's fate.

There Once Was a Man Who Lived in Bamboo

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There once was a man who lived in bamboo
and was once obsessed with the color blue, and loved to dress in fufu-londu.
For the style has been all the rage, and it only to cost a minimum wage!
When the man in bamboo had nothing to do he decided to go out and buy him some shoes.

Most were to big and many to small, there would he find nothing at all? And there in the light was such a delight! He saw all the colors of pink, black and white. All in one shoe what next should he do?
Then the man in  bamboo with nothing to decided to buy those wonderful shoes. Showing them off wherever he walked the people around them stood in dumb-shock.
"Who would buy such a silly shoe? Why, only a man who lived in bamboo! What a pity, what a waste,  what horrid bad taste! Does this man not possess any pride?"

The man with his shoes and nothing to do went back to abide in his house of bamboo. From there he lay peaceful and gay to flyaway in his sleep. Dreams of lands and of bright-rays, sunbeams and clouds all one day! Peaceful and deep was he in his sleep until he awoke by a thud. He looked around heard no other sound, then set back his head to sleep. Then he woke to roar from a door at least a few rooms away. Then he left  to explore, what could be behind such noisy door? Maybe a cat or perhaps a rat? From behind the door, much to his horror, there no cat nor rat. It was a monster; a large ugly shoe who looked at the man screaming "you!"

The man fell to his face pleading his fate, asking his shoe to not eat him!
"Foolish man! I am your shoe, the one you bought from fufu-londu. I only roar because I adore you giving attention to me. You threw me away-- into the dust! And to think, master, I gave you my trust! Not a home, not a bed you left me for dead! I feel you have abandoned me!"  Then the shoe shad a tear; part-reluctant from fear had sat at his master's side. The man kicked the shoe then headed for bed  for there was nothing left that had to be said.
The shoe hid away without further delay then sat there and cried, and cried. He saw next to him a wonderful Croc-shoe. He stayed and he talked then  went for a walk with his new found best friend Croc.

.

Noidy

There once was this girl who got called "nerdy" on a regular basis. She wasn't really a nerd, she just really enjoyed photography, Star Wars books, animal bones, candy necklaces, Muppets, movie making, fossilized animals, strange looking book covers, comics, ice cream, Scrabble, Scattergories, word games in general, penguins, shirts with unusual sayings and/or pictures on them, her battery charger, card games, Harry Potter memorabilia, lemonheads, colored pencils, Joe Jonas, black rimmed glasses, talking in "gangsta" lingo, jumping up and down when she's excited, the inside of the human body, chocolate covered raisins, the color yellow, movie soundtracks, stupid yet funny movies, kitties, photoshop, bugs, germ-x, clean fingernails, Nevershoutnever, the macro setting on her camera, nerdy guys, a guy singing to a certain girl in front of everyone, bookmarks, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, novelty items, drawing, recieving compliments on her talents, books that make her cry or laugh out loud, pet stores, Barnes & Nobels, deformed foods, etc...

...............Oh crap. I am a nerd!

Brutal Love Square (Part III)

Raoul stood with his sword held parallel to the ground, pointing the tip of the blade at the musical genius, Ryan. Ryan was completely defenseless, for his sword had been knocked out of his hands by the Phantom. Raoul smirked, and approached Ryan slowly. He stood there with a stoic look about him, almost as if Ryan was actually mocking Raoul.

"Before I send you to your death, care to use your final breath?" asked Raoul with a fierce tone.

Ryan only smiled. He jumped into the water, and he didn't come back up. Raoul stood there for ten minutes and could not see him come back up from underwater. While Raoul had a small head start, he ran through the broken frame after Christine and the Phantom.

Raoul ran through what seemed like an endless passage before entering into a deep, vast forest. Christine would have ran in the direction of her fathers grave, and the Phantom, being her eternal stalker, would be going to the cemetery too. Raoul ran as fast as possible through the thick, dark forest toward the cemetery.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached the entrance to the cemetery. He ran through the graveyard toward the tomb where Christine's father was buried. He cut around one of the graves and saw Christine sitting on the stairs with tears running down her face.

In that moment, Raoul wanted nothing more than to hold Christine in his arms and love her forever. Raoul didn't hesitate, he ran to Christine and took her by the hand, and began to sing to her. She seemed to be lost in her mind, and she didn't seem to be listening to him.

The Phantom appeared in the middle of the graveyard, and he stared at Raoul and Christine. He was breathing heavily and his face looked even more distorted than it used to be. His sword hung at his side, and his hand was seriously mangled. Raoul doesn't remember hurting him at all. Unless, Ryan lived...

I'm trying something new...

Once, dragons and men coexisted.

They shared a peace forged in wisdom,

a peace that lasted many generations.

All that was lost when mankind disrupted

this balance in a sudden onslaught.

Man fought dragon in a savage war

that shook the foundations of their world.

This war was called The Scouring.

Defeated and humbled,

dragons vanished from the realm.

In time, man rebuilt and spread his

dominion across the land and

on to the islands beyond.

A millennium has passed

since those dark days ended.

``~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``


"Are you awake?" a women exclaimed as my eyes were slowly opening. "I found you unconscious on the plains. I am Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now. Who are you? Can you remember your name?"


"Yes, I do, my name is Kara. Where am I?"

"Kara? What an odd-sounding name... but pay me no mind. It isa good name. I see by your attire that you are a traveler. What brings you to the Sacae Plains?"

Suddenly there was hollow sound of voices arose in the far.. voices of men talking to one another. Also the deep voice of metal clanking against one another.

"Hm? What was that noise? I'll go see what's happening. Kara, wait here for me."

Lyn had stood up and hesitantly left..
As I looked around I saw that I was in a small tent. To the right of the small pallet bed which I lay was a large wooden box used as a counter, on it was hand carved bowls. There were many shelf's to the left. Lyn rushed back into the tent with bitter haste and worry. She had her hand on the hilt of her sword which I had not seen until now, numerous rope belts tied around her waste from which her sheath was sustained.

" Bandits! They must have come down from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages. I... I have to stop them! If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own. You'll be safe in here, Kara!"

"No! I won't stay. I intend to help you." I'd exclaimed.

"Well, can you use a weapon?"

" I am a strategist, I can be of some help."

"Ah, I see... So you're a strategist by trade? An odd profession, but... Very well. We'll go together!" Lyn beamed.

We left into the plains crouching low to the ground and almost crawling. Lyn kept looking at me to ensure my safety. The grass was long and flowing for it was windy and cool outside, there was not tree in sight. Beneath us was a gentle drizzle of dew on the grass glimmering from the bright rays of sun. Lyn was much faster then myself, I was not used to crawling around like mad beast in the field. However, she seemed to be used to the knee-braking activity, she is a tribes women after all. She is probably well acquainted with these fields of grass..this wide expanse of dazzling mirrors.

"Over here! If you want to help, Kara, I could use your advice. I'll protect you, so stay close to me." She looked at me expecting a answer that I was not yet ready to give. But nonetheless I had to conjure up something. I then looked at her and said:

"I hope to make this easy... Lyn, you are the blue unit. The enemy units are red. Do you understand?

"Yes I do. Continue"

"Very well. Essentially, battle consists of blue, and red units. You shall wait for the red unit to first try and strike the blue then you will began attacking. I am only here as a strategist.. therefore I cannot fight. As you take down the hand of what I assume to be their leader you will then make way to him if you can.. Understood?"

Lyn nodded and then made her way over toward the the enemies. She was filled with courage and yet filled with fear at the fate she'd hoped not to endure. For as do I, if she did die.. she hoped with luck it would be a quick death. Why would a girl's love for people she did not know drive her to such a bold action? She must be skilled with a sword if not a little to be wielding one in such a gallant manner. Lyn was crawling and now at ground level with the bandits who were making their way past the plains.

One of the men stopped in his steps and looked in the direction of Lyn. "That bandit spotted me! He's coming this way.. I should close in and attack." at that single moment Lyn jumped to her feet and drew her sword. The bandit, not expecting such a move from a women, stumbled back then pulled a hand axe from his leather belt. Lyn swiped her sword across the man's chest only to miss him. She then fell to her knees avoiding the axe to what would have wounded her neck, as she was on her knees the he took advantage of that moment and kicked her in the back knocking her to the ground.
The bandit threw his axe at the ground where Lyn fell. She quickly rolled unto her back avoiding the the projectile, standing to her feet she brought back up her blade then slashed the man in the arm. For he was too busy trying to grab up his axe. The man being foolishly dramatic fell to the ground in what looked to be writhing pain.. Lyn saw that there was no blood on him, not on his arm. Only a light pink scratch, she observed him as he dramatically fell to his face limp.

"The other has gone! We must find him!" Lyn ran back to me. We both for a moment stared at the man lying on the ground as if he were dead. I then turned to her.

"You have fought wonderfully. A job well done!" I said with what felt like a slight grin on my face.

"We must stop the last one, I only took down one. Come! We must hurry!" Lyn ran off in the direction of the local villages. We did not go but two miles until something caught her eye "Here's the other bandit over by the ger to the west."

"By what?"

"You don't know what a ger is? It's a type of round hut. Many nomads live in huts like these." Lyn and I ran over to the bandit.

He noticed us before we ever reached him. "Kara, you must not come with me!" after she said this I stopped and stood watching her approach the brute man. Trying to withhold a laugh from his voice he said to her "

"Who do you think you are? You think you can stand up to Batta Beast? Haha foolish girly!" he drew out a full axe.

Lyn's eyes widened when she saw what she was about to face. I could not restrain myself, I ran to her side. "Kara, if fall, I want you to flee. You must escape!" I drew back as Lyn tightened her grip on the sword and slashed at the bandit. He fell back grabbing his scared arm then with all his might swiped the axe at the girl missing her. She thrust the blade forth at the man missing. He then, with such force, thrashed his axe at the girl. She swiftly jumped back making the man fall into the ground. As her turned to get up In a moment he was face to face with her blade, as she moved it up to cut downward the man kicked the sword from her hand. She looked at her sword and ran to attempt retrieve it until she was hit in the head by a rock. Due to the massive size of the rock, Lyn fell to the ground herself. The man charged at her when she thrust her leg into the man's stomach throwing him down a large hill "Gahhh!" The man yelled until a small thud was heard down the hill.

"Whew... That was close. I sorely underestimated him." Lyn said while panting for breath . She turned her glance to me "Sorry if I worried you. I'll need to be stronger if I'm going to survive... Strong enough that no one can defeat me."

After that fight we returned to her tent and swiftly fell into a deep slumber. The next morning I opened my eyes to the beautiful sight of a graceful smile.

"Good morning, Kara! That fight yesterday must have taken a lot out of you." She walked over to me then sat on the edge of my bedding. She looked as though something was on her mind..

"Say, Kara... I want to talk to you about something. You have some experience in the ways of war, I can see. Would you allow me to travel with you?"

"I would need to get permission from your parents first Lyn..." I muttered rubbing my eyes.

"My mother and my father... died six months ago. My people -the Lorca- they don't.. I'm the last of my tribe. Bandits attacked, and... they killed so many people. The tribe was scattered. My father was our chieftain, and I wanted to protect our people. I am so young, and my parent are old-fashioned. They wouldn't follow a woman. No one would follow me.." Tears filled the young girls eyes. Such a expression of sadness.. I wondered why she lived alone, and now I know why. She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed.

"I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long... No. No more. I will shed no more tears. Thank you. I'm better now." She gave me a light reassuring smile. Then had a sudden thought
"Kara, I want- I must become stronger, so that I may avenge my father's death! Yesterday's battle taught me something. I won't become stronger by sitting here alone. Kara, tell me you'll train me, that you'll let me travel with you!?"

"Of course I will. You are welcomed to come with!" I could not hold back the smile on my face as she almost immediately brightened up.

"You will? That's wonderful! Thank you! Oh, hank you! We'll be better off working together, I know it. You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior! We can do! Right?" She stood up looking over joyed.

"Of course we can." We both could not restrain our silly laughs. How glad I was that Lyn was happy! When then started packing our things and headed off.

Just A Little Something I Wrote...

There once was a fellow
Who liked to dress in yellow.
He was very, very mellow, except when he was blue.
When he was blue,
He didn't know what to do,
So he would sit there and cry, "Boo hoo!".
When his wife saw him crying, his face turned bright red!
His wife thought him ill, and sent him to bed.
As he lay there trying to sleep that night, a thought ran through his head.
"Oh, how I wish, how I wish I were dead!"
The yellow mellow blue and red fellow fell asleep,and awoke in a mood of gray.
He was not happy, he was very, very sad, and this is what he had to say.
"I will never, ever be happy again. In fact, I think I should go."
And just as he was fixing to pull the trigger, he looked up and saw a rainbow!
It was an arch of the most wonderful colors, one that brought tears to his eyes.
Who exactly could make such a beautiful piece of art in the huge, never ending sky?!
Why, God of course! The One and Only!
God, who loves you when you feel lonely.
So before you start to fade away,
Get on your knees and start to pray.
Never forget that He's always there for you,
Always, even when you're feeling blue.

A Brutal Love Square Part 2

"My name is Ryan, and I am the master of music!"

His sword, named Excalawesotastulous, began to glow brightly, and a song emitted from the magnificent sword. It was Final Countdown by Europe. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tt_ro2aerQg)

Raoul and the Phantom marveled at the sword, and the music coming from the sword not only motivated them, but also their opponent. This would certainly be an epic battle. The way this Ryan gripped the sword showed he was no mere beginner, but a master swordsman.

Raoul and the Phantom both approached Ryan from opposite sides, hoping that two combatants attacking a single combatant from opposite sides would be quick and easy. Ryan only smirked at their "strategy". He knew what they were trying to do.

"Fools!" shouted Ryan. He twirled his sword around, and suddenly a blade came out of the butt of the handle, and it was just as long and beautiful as the other blade. The music grew louder and the sword glowed brighter as he held this double-bladed sword. He gripped the handle with both hands, and stood in a stance that could easily block the blows of both opponents.

The Phantom and Raoul went in for the kill, only to be disappointed that mere fencing skills would not work against such a master swordsman. They would have to rely on pure, brute strength to even hope of besting this man. Ryan swung his blade in the direction of the Phantom's head as the other blade aimed at Raoul's. They both ducked the blow easily, but they didn't expect him to keep spinning, and the result was a severely cut arm to Raoul.

"Raoul!" Christine screamed.

"These two fools fight only me when after they win they still will be malicious to each other!" Ryan sang.

"He's right! He's right! This man of darkness is right!" Raoul sang.

"I am not a man of darkness! But a light for the music! A light for Christine, sent by her father!" The music grew louder, as though it became more powerful with each note Ryan sang.

The three opponents were facing each other off in a triangle now. It was a free-for-all battle now. The Phantom jumped at Ryan, bringing his sword down on Ryan, only to be swatted away by Ryan's blade. Raoul made his chance on them both and charged when their blades were locked, but Ryan quickly pushed the Phantom back and kicked Raoul in the gut, sending him falling into the water. Raoul disappeared under the muddy water.

Ryan and the Phantom clashed their swords, using all of their upper body strength in each blow. Ryan was swinging his blade on beat with the music, almost beating down the Phantom with each blow. Raoul reappeared and went after the Phantom.  The Phantom and Raoul began fighting, and Ryan ran toward Christine and wrapped her in one arm as he retracted a blade back into the handle.

"Come, my angel of music! Let us flee the darkness tonight!" Ryan sang.

"Anywhere you go I will go too!" Christine sang.

He turned toward the mirror, and kicked right through it, revealing a secret passage to the outside world.

"NO NO NO!" The Phantom and Raoul sang in harmony.

"Christine! My dearest angle Christine! Flee into the night! I shall be behind thee in moments!" Ryan shouted.

Christine turned and stepped through the broken mirror frame into the dark, rocky passage. Ryan turned again to face the two fools approaching him. He decided to use only one blade. He was much quicker, and it was fair play.

"You will not take her from me!" the Phantom screamed.

The Phantom jumped toward Ryan, bringing down his sword hard on Ryan's sword, knocking it from his hand. He swung at Ryan's abdomen, but Ryan jumped back, dodging each swing. The Phantom kicked the sword into the water, and then chased Christine into the night.

It all came down to Ryan and Raoul. They had to fight to the death in the beast's lair. Ryan without a sword, and Raoul clearly having the upper hand, this fight may only last for a moment. . .

(To be continued. . .)

The Dwelling of the Net

.
Most tales of old are not ones often preserved in history. They are tales of exquisite sorrow, gallant figures wrapped in cloth as of a noble man, shy women who's beauty is often found within the bounds of her lovely heart. More often then not they are tales of helpless romances, burning passion as once displayed by the great king Solomon.
This however, is nothing like any of those. This is a tale of adventure such as the dashing men who once found it worthy to roam the inhabitants of the earth, oxen who feared nothing, not even the snare of death. Ah! How those men are greatly missed.
The beauty in where these events take place is something your mind certainly can not possess. There was once a living thriving palace, one that many do not know about and to this day it is unknown to most all the dwellers of the human world. There is a place where blood is a rarity, none know it but by what they are taught. These people are made only out of programing, data if you will, they are hidden away into the internet.
They fear no such thing as death, but being deleted. They are flawless in appearance, white as though the snow as we know it, came down and formed a living being. Lovely as the fields of flowers, dazzling like the endless oceans of stars. People of whom sadly, today we would find no person who's virtues compare. However some are oafs..ill mannered to say the lest, others painfully shy while others beam with joy.

'The dwelling of the net' as some called it, was a magnificent beauty. The largest single enclosure one can conceive. On the ground a wide endless expanse of rolling marble pavement of black and white squares. On the threshold amid gothic lettering that reads 'Palace of the internet' painted in azure. Above is seen a vault paneled with hand carved wood; the painting on the vault cascading with thousands of colors. What one often sees in the cascading rivers who never rests, always a rainbow of colors dancing with the shy misty waters. Down the palace hall is seen endless pillars, tall, broad and steadfast. Around the lofty walls are tiled stone, each with it's own story and cracks, and magnificent cracks they were!
Your eyes would be dazzled by what you see. No human has ventured into the internet, nor has any Data left the internet. That is what they are called, just as we are human incarnated, they are Data, dwellers of the net. Perfect in sight and absolute in beauty.

As evening came, the citizens of the internet were awakened by the subtle sound of a ringing bell. All who heard this ring woke and rushed into the Palace of the Internet, for they knew it was of some important news. All the women grabbed there veils, they found it shameful to attend a event with hair like that of a slob.  The men changed into a fresh tunic and clean hoes then attended the Palace. Waves of heads poured into the Palace, heads of gold, red and light brown.  All with the expression of  haste and worry...or I should say all but one.
A rather tall slender figure stood leaning against one of the pillars. This man; pale with sparkling eyes that cast even the most wretched man into a deep gaze. His long blond hair lightly touching the shoulder of his young body thus finishing this fine package. The man stood with  the expression of bitterness at the king, after all, his pleasant night of peaceful slumber was taken away. Was it not?
Up to our mystery man walked young face, one of excitement and favor. Ah! It is the young student of Gabriel, the king's fifth adviser who is well advanced in his years. The young man being Gabriel's son; in line to inherit his fathers honorable position. The young man known as Garreit, Gabriel did not waste any of young Garreit's fourteen years of living, teaching him in all he himself had be taught. Many of the Net's fine Data were well acquainted with young Garreit. Our young friend walked up to the blond who had just been introduced.

"Greetings Chad Amilion!  This news must be something of importance for the king to assemble all the net. Why, how are you good friend?" The boy beamed.

"At what point have I ever regarded you? You seem to mistake me for a gentleman." The man, now known as Chad sighed deeply at the boys vibrance.

"Whatever do you mean? Just last week both you and I spoke about how vast the net is, how magnificent.  You led me to believe from then on we were acquaintances... friends?" 

"Yes, I see what you mean. I must have been ill that day, you are annoying to me." Chad said looking quite irritated.

"You do not really mean that.." Garreit said, his voice slightly whinny.

"Unfortunately for you I do. I only showed you kindness for the sake of your father watching me, you certainly did not think it was anything else did you?"

 Garreit bit his lip and stared straight at Chat looking quite belittled at what was just relayed to him. Holding back the slight quiver in his voice he proclaimed  "I  should know that the son of a peddler could never possesses such a compassion as I'd hoped you did for a small boy. A  peddler and an ill-women could produce nothing less then a lout!"

Our poor Garreit then walked away looking slightly hurt by Chad's response, he thought the snob to be somewhat of a friend out of what he conceived to be kindness a week's past. But the young gentlemen was mistaken, it was only tolerance from Chad. This hoodlum was well known around the net much for his cadly and mischievous conduct. Many thought the only thing worth while in the twit were his captivating eyes, they held triumph over all others.
Many of the people squirmed throughout the Palace of the internet waiting for the king to arrive. A small timid elderly looking man made his way down a large flight of stairs with what looked like a tube in his hand. The man stood in front of the crowd "Greetings citizens!" the man announced. With all eyes focused, immeasurable fear came over him "The k-king...I bear a message from the king!" he threw the tube onto the grown, suddenly the tube formed a metal plate on the ground projecting a grand hologram of the king himself. The place filled with the roaring sound of a kingly voice:

"All who wish to abide under my command, hear my words faithful Data! You will not transgress the law in which I have established and shall proclaim to you. You will not pass into the gates of the western net, scouts have gone missing and unknown activity is present in those parts. All who will not abide under this law are welcome unto the vast blackness in where the virus' chose to abide. I am the king and this is my command! Should anyone stay and chose to violate the law which I have established, they will with certainty, be deleted."

The hologram then vanished into thin air, the disk had become a tube again.
What had been a long trip for some was also a brief stay, the countless families had quickly abandoned the grand Palace, each with his or her own theory of what the meaning was to the banishment from the west. To us humans the internet is boundless and the people known as Data are mystery, after all, who can perceive such a person majestic in sight?

(Chap 2 might be coming..)

A Brutal Love Square

"This is the choice! This is the point of no return!"

The Phantom pulled tighter at the rope in his hands, cutting of Raoul's air supply even more. Christine became angry.

"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!" she screamed at the Phantom.

Before either one spoke again, Raoul, with the breath he had, sang, "Christine, forgive me please forgive me! I did it all for you, and all for nothing!"

Just then, all three began singing at the same time, not being able to understand anything when a new voice entered into the mix. One which none of them had ever heard before, and it was the most spectacular voice any of them have ever heard!

"You must be crazy, must be nuts, to think that any of this matters!"

The figure emerged from a small tunnel in the water. He was tall, wearing a white shirt and black pants. His hair was untouched. Brown, and a little messy, but well placed. His eyes were a dark blue, and he had a hawk-like nose. A little crooked. He stared at all three of them.

"Who is this ignorant boy?!" Christine, Raoul, and the Phantom sang in harmony.

The boy sang back to them, "I am no boy, but a man in search of his angel of music! Long have I guided you and kept this beast from harming you, and long have I stalked this rich boy who has no love for you and only your voice!"


"What you speak is rubbish to my ears!" sang Raoul.


"Repulsive scoundrel is this man who thinks Christine belongs to him!" sang the Phantom.


Christine remained silent as this stranger stared deep into her eyes. He was almost spirit-like. Like he wasn't a man, but a ghost.


"Insolent boys! These slaves of fashion! Resting in your glory! Ignorant fools! These brave old noobs! Sharing in your triumph!"


"Angel I hear you, speak, I listen! Stay by my side! Guide me! Angel, my soul, was weak, forgive me! Enter at last, master!"


"Flattering girl I'm no angel. You are the angel this night. There is no need for forgiveness, I have kept you blind!"


"Angel of music, guide and guar-"


Christine was cut off by the Phantom. "Let it be war upon this fool!"


The Phantom dropped the rope, releasing Raoul. Raoul, and the Phantom, both took their swords from their sheathes and pointed the tips of their blades at the stranger.


The stranger took a long, ornate sword from a sheath hidden on his back that he had to hold with two hands. He lifted it high above his head, and spoke these words, before the epic battle would begin.


"My name is Ryan, and I am the master of music!"

Part II, The Fight

Both girls stood back to back, waiting for the signal from Damon to begin. Damon looked down at them from his spot in a tree, admiring his jealous lovers. Gosh, I almost sicken myself sometimes. He smirked, then whistled. The instant the high pitched noise stopped, the girls went into action.

Before Amanda even had a chance to turn around, Chelsea had her by the hair and was trying her best to drag her onto the ground. Amanda shrieked in pain, and started kicking, hoping she could get Chelsea in a good spot. After a few more agonizing seconds, Amanda had Chelsea pushed up against a wall, trying to knock some wind out of her. Chelsea let go of Amanda's hair and as soon as there was enough space for her to move the teeniest bit, Chelsea ducked, letting Amanda wind herself on the wall. Amanda doubled over, trying to suck some air back in, while Chelsea ran off, towards the mysterious lake.

She stopped at the very edge. It was happening again. Chelsea started to feel as though something was coming over her, something telling her to just touch the water a little bit, to come just a tad closer. Chelsea's face began to turn blank, when she suddenly shook her head. "What am I doing? Damon told me not to get near the water." She turned around, only to have her nose less than an inch away from Amanda's. "Surprise." she said, her eyes cold. She shoved Chelsea, and Chelsea went splashing into the lake. Things began happening to Chelsea. Her face began twisting, her eyes growing larger, her hair growing shorter. Chelsea was screaming a silent scream, sinking faster, almost no longer visible.

As Amanda stood at the edge, her face in shock, there came a voice. "NOOO!" Amanda was thrown from the lake, and she saw a person reaching his whole right arm into the lake, in the spot where Chelsea was sinking. "Damon?" The person ignored her, still reaching around in the water. After a few moments, the person's arm stiffened. He grunted, and pulled as hard as he could. He fell back onto the grass, with Chelsea on his chest. Amanda gaped. "Who are you?! Why did you save her?!" The person was breathing hard, making Chelsea rise up and down. Chelsea started to moan, and Amanda noticed that she looked perfectly normal again, just wet. The man slowly started to get up, lifting Chelsea up in his arms. He stared at Amanda. "My name's Stefan. I'm Damon's brother." Amanda looked the man over. Sure, he had some resemblances, but brothers? It was almost impossible. "How do I know you're really Damon's brother?" Amanda asked, not knowing why it mattered. "Damon brought both of you here, tried to woo you, and left you two to fight over him. You think you love him more, even though you don't even know him." Amanda just looked at Stefan. "How did you know all of that?" Stefan sighed. "Because he's done things like that before." Amanda didn't say anything. Stefan looked up, towards the trees. "You can come out now, Damon. I think you've had enough fun."

NEXT UP: Part III, Reunions

(this one was very bad, but I couldn't figure out anything better.)

Chapter 1: Names

Wal-Mart was always boisterous and annoying during Christmas season, and Aidan Snow hated it more than anything. All these people buying gifts for family and friends, some out of obligation, some out of wrong motive, and some out of love.

"So stupid," Aidan muttered under his breath.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror while washing his hands. His dark blue eyes were heavy from serious lack of sleep. His brown shaggy hair was messy and greasy. He didn't care about his hygiene very much, although he didn't smell bad. His nose was a little crooked, but that didn't seem to turn away the beautiful girls that always passed flirtatious comments about his "good looks". Aidan didn't care. He had no interest in any relationship of any kind.

"Back to work."

Aidan threw the wet paper towel in the garbage can and pushed the door open and went back to his register. He opened the register and people came flooding into the lane, putting all of their items onto the belt. Aidan played the part of pretending he enjoyed his job, and talked to the customers a little bit. Some were nice, some were mean, some on the phone. This annoyed Aidan. All of them annoyed Aidan.

After a few more hours, his shift was over. His replacement, Jimmy, an annoying seventeen year old snob, took over the register.

"See ya later, Aidan," he said in a mocking tone. If Aidan were seventeen and not twenty-five, he would beat the kid to death. Aidan had no desire to go to prison though, and that was the only thing that held him back.

Aidan went to the locker room and grabbed his stuff, then headed to his car in the back parking lot. It was a 1994 Honda Accord. It was black, rusty, and nothing anyone would want to drive. He loved his car though. He got in the front seat, turned the key, and drove off to his apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aidan opened the door, and it creaked each inch it opened. Aidan hated this place. It was too much of a dump. For the money he pays, it should at least be more maintained.

Aidan threw his coat on the floor, and grabbed a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. He popped open the lid and started gulping it down as he crashed on the couch and turned on the TV. A movie called August Rush was playing.

"Figures it would be about music. . ."

Aidan threw the remote at the TV. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He kept on staring, thinking about the days when his life wasn't like this. Thinking about when he was in love, had a family, had friends, and when he had his music. It didn't matter to him now.

Aidan began to feel very hot. This was a daily thing. He'd get really hot, and then sometimes he'd get really cold. He didn't know why, but it was never really serious.

Aidan closed his eyes, and tried to drift into sleep, but a knock on the door pulled him back to the world.

"Who in the world!?"

Aidan got up slowly and opened the door to find a small woman standing there. She was probably 5'2, at least a whole foot shorter than Aidan. She was wearing a red sweater and a long black skirt. She had long, scarlet colored hair and a beautiful face. Her eyes were deep, and yet every time you looked into them, you couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of those eyes.

"Hello, Aidan."

"Do I know you?" he asked.

"No," she responded. "I'm Krystal Fiamette. May I come in?"

"What do you want?" Aidan asked angrily.

Without answering, the woman stepped in. She looked no older than 25 to Aidan. She might even be 18. He didn't know. She walked to the couch and sat down gracefully, propping her right leg over her left.

"Do you make it a habit of walking into a strange man's home?"

"First time," she responded. "Never even been in a single man's house. I have a lonely life."

Aidan was growing impatient with her friendly personality. She was too calm. Too nice and too outgoing. Aidan decided not to trust her from this moment on.

"What's with the skirt? You one of those legalistic people?"

"It's called being formal. Now, down to the reason of my visit."

"You mean intrusion."

She said nothing or responded in any type of way as if she heard that. "Are you aware of what Aidan means?"

"Fire. What in the world does that matter?!"

She smiled and stood up again. "Your last name is Snow. Aidan Snow. It's pretty funny that those two names happen to mean fire and ice, or cold."

Aidan was almost furious now. "You barged into my house to make sure I knew what my first and last name means? You are one crazy lady. I think you should get out before I call the police."

"Your name is Aidan Snow. You are a cashier at Wal-Mart. You were born in Lafayette, Tennessee. You were homeschooled your whole life. You were a prodigy. You could play the piano like no other. You had your mother, and your father, who were gone a lot and traveled a lot. Your siblings are dead. You have no friends left. They all abandoned you. You experience a fire-like feeling everyday, and then a very cold feeling, am I correct?"

Aidan was silent for only a few moments. "So, you are a stalker. I'm calling the cops."

"I can assure you I'm not a stalker. Up until two weeks ago I was normal just like you, until I had a similar  visit from a strange man. You will meet him soon enough, whether you want to or not."

"Is that a threat?"

"My name is Krystal Fiamette, as I have said. Krystal means ice, and Fiamette is a Latin name for fire. No coincidence that you and I happen to have names that mean fire and ice, is it?"

"So our parents wanted to be funny and give us names that mean fire and ice. Big deal. What importance does names have to do with anything?"

"A lot more than either of us can comprehend at this point. I barely know anymore than you do at this point, which is why I need you to come with me. I need you to trust me."

"That's not going to happen."

Krystal sighed, then approached Aidan. "Then I guess I'll just have to force you to come."

Krystal threw her fist right at Aidan's face. Aidan raised his arm quickly and grabbed her oncoming fist. "Nice try, but I'm a third deg-"

Krystal's heel made contact with Aidan's jaw before he could even think about finishing his sentence. He fell to the ground with a hard thud and didn't move again.

"Men. Always so difficult!"

UPDATE

Just so everyone knows, I will begin writing Part II, The Fight sometime in the very near future! Not to be making excuses, but I've had a small case of writer's block. But now that I've caught back up on V.D., I will begin writing as soon as possible! Thanks to anyone who reads Our Super Stories and goodnight!

RC vs. Pepsi

"LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE-!

*cue jumpy rocking music*

RC stands in one corner, water pouring down his lid, as his opponent, Pepsi, jumps up and down getting pumped. The bell rings and the two fighters begin to move. RC falls and rolls right into Pepsi, knocking him down hard.

"Ouch! That has got to hurt!" screamed the announcer, Dr. Pepper.

"Yes, it does, but his form of rolling was fantastic!" shouted the second announcer, Mt. Dew.

Pepsi quickly regained his footing and slammed into RC. RC quickly retaliated and Pepsi began hitting. They hit each other for several minutes, busting caps and spilling liquid everywhere. Pepsi and RC were halfway empty, all energy almost lost.

Pepsi slammed into RC, knocking him down and spilling more liquid. RC was about to give up. All he had worked for would be lost. It was his last fight, and it was almost over. Then he saw his beloved wife, Crush, and knew he had to finish for her.

In one swift move, RC did a spin hit right into Pepsi, going right through his body, spilling the rest of the can's liquid onto the mat. Pepsi stayed on the ground and lost the fight, and RC stood victorious, soaking in liquid. He raised his cap high, and his wife Crush joined him, and together they shared in his triumph!

The End!

Part I, Jealousy

They were both in a state of shock. The place where he had taken them was beautiful, if not somewhat cheesy. They had been taken to an old cottage by a lake, in a part of America they didn't know. Heck, who was to say they were even in America anymore? The cottage had a sort of cozy yet simple charm. From what the girls could tell, the building was two stories with the perfect shudders and the perfect door and the perfect variation of flowers around the outside. As perfect as the cottage was, it was nothing in comparison to the lake that was but a few yards away. It's normally clear water looked inky black in the late night. The moon light was just enough to where the water sparkled in an eerie way, somewhat entrancing. Just as the girls were beginning to walk towards the water, maybe to reach out and touch it, they were pulled back with a sudden force. "Why do I always have to play the good guy?" Damon asked, his voice slightly whinny. The girls said nothing, still in a daze from the lake. Damon rolled his eyes, then took the blond by the shoulders. "Amanda, look at me. You will not go towards the water again." Damon's pupils were widening, his gaze intense. Amanda stared straight into his eyes and spoke. "I will not go towards the water again." Damon smiled. "That's a good girl." He turned to the other girl. "Now it's your turn." He repeated the process, and the girl got the same mesmerized look as the other had gotten. Damon backed off a step, and grinned. He'd really outdone himself this time. Taking two girls, both from the same town, and bringing them to this certain location was really quite brilliant. How could the possibly resist him? He definitely had the upper hand, but then again, he usually did."So, ladies. Let's get down to business." Damon scooped both girls into his arms, and ran to a gazebo on the other side of the lake...all in less than 10 seconds. The girls were awake now, but still, they weren't scared. The brunette blinked, then looked around. "Where are we?" "Dear Chelsea, does it really matter? I mean, you've got me with you." Chelsea just looked at Damon, staring him down. Her gaze was so steady, that Damon almost gave in and looked away. Almost. "Chelsea," Damon said, going to her side and sitting her down on the bench. "You know I love you. That's why I went through the trouble of bringing you here. So why don't you just be a good little damsel in distress and just..." "And what's the story for me?" Amanda asked, glaring at Damon's hand on Chelsea's. "I suppose you love me too?" Damon sighed dramatically, and turned to Amanda. "Why is it so hard to understand that I love you both and want you both with me? Can't a guy be happy every once and awhile?" "What about us?" Chelsea demanded. "Why do we have to share you? How do you know that one of us is lying about her feelings for you." Amanda whipped her head around to glare at Chelsea. "And just what," she asked, her teeth bared behind her lips, " are you saying?" Chelsea scoffed. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm trying to say! I'm saying that we all know that I love Damon more than you and that we both know that Damon prefers me anyways!" Right as Amanda was fixing to retort, Damon stepped in between the two. "Girls, girls! This is exactly why you have to share. Trust me, there's plenty of Damon to go around. Now, as I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted, I think..." "Wait!" Amanda grabbed Damon's arm and looked up at him with her most innocent face. "Damon," she said, her voice taking on a pouty tone. "I would really like to know who you love more. If you can just prove to Chelsea that you love me most, then I'd be willing to share you." Damon's face was that of shock. He quickly composed himself, but all the time was thinking, Crap! Crap crap crap. I did NOT see this coming...Time to lay on the charm. Damon cleared his throat. "My dearest lovers. I simply cannot pick between the two of you. There's so much that I love about the both of you, that I just can't live with one's perfections without the other's!" He smiled his sweetest smile, and hoped that that cheesy line would save the night. It didn't. "Damon, please don't insult us. We're not going to fall for a line like that." Chelsea tapped her foot impatiently. "Just tell us who you love more!". Damon's jaw twitched, a sign of irritation. "Ok girls, here's the thing. I love you both but seeing as that means nothing to either of you, I'm going to try something new. How about the both of you duke it out amongst yourselves, and when you're done, I'll turn the "most loved" into my own personal vampy girlfriend." Amanda raised her eyebrows. "Girlfriend? If you love us so much, why not make one of us your wife?" Damon snorted. "Please, wife? Too much commitment." Chelsea smirked at Amanda. "See? It's obvious I love him more. I don't feel the need to question his every move." Amanda rolled her eyes. "You know what, Chels? Bite me." "I can do it for her..." Damon said mischievously. Amanda beamed while Chelsea scowled. "Are you two going to fight or not? I'd really like to move on with my life." Chelsea gave Damon a look. "It's not like you're getting any older though, is it?" Damon raised his eyebrows in surprise, then smiled. "Ahh, I like my girls with some wit. Now, hurry up! I have things to do, places to be, people to eat."

Tune in next time for: Part II, The Fight

(Oh, and just so you know, I'm fully aware that this is really bad.)

Random post

I deleted my last new story because I did not like it, it was dreadful. So for now this is my story until I finish something worth reading.

There was once a small rat named Joe. He was a good rat, one who enjoyed many of life's delights.
One day Joe met a friend, Rocket the Ant. Later that day Joe decided he was  hungry then ate his beloved new friend Rocket the Ant.
 The end...

New Layout

This is the new layout I picked. I changed it around some and still have a few things to mess with. Unfortunately the banner does not fit.. so i will be ether taking it off or making another.

enjoy the new layout!





-eb_fourside

Hmph.

Ok, so this is something that I wrote AGES ago. Like, seriously; AGES. I wonder if this will even count or I'm allowed to post old things...hmm. Well, I guess we'll find out! (and M.M., I'm too tired to write anything original right now. Thus this blog.)



The scene we start out with is one where an elderly woman sits in a dark corner of an old abandoned cabin, hidden in the deepest part of the forbidden woods at around midnight. She's weeping and sobbing so hard, that she retches often and can hardly breath. She's pleading for mercy, saying every now-and-again how sorry she is for finding out his secret. The male in which she refers to is a tall, thin creature, nothing like anything man has seen before. He is over 7 feet tall, so tall, his face is hard to see in the darkness of the night. He steps into a patch of moonlight that is shining through a hole in the cabin roof. His face makes the woman gasp, though she knows what to expect. His face is the palest of white, so white the moonlight seemed to make it invisible. His eyes are red slits, full of hatred and evil thoughts. His mouth is formed into a wicked grin, which showed his sharp, sharp fangs. So sharp, that his grin became bloody as soon as his teeth touched his lips. The blood, some of which was not his own, trickled down his chin, and fell softly onto the woman's face. "I meant no harm!" she cried, not knowing that these would be her last words. The creature only laughed his horrible, high pitched laugh, before he reached down and choked the woman with his 3 inch claws on either hand. Blood poured from the woman's neck, and the creature laughed yet again as he looked at the silent scream still on the elderly woman's face. He stepped back into the darkness, and he, the dead body, and the cabin disappeared until it was time for him to feed again.

Prologue

"This isn't working!"

He sat on his black leather piano stool, frustrated with the sounds coming from the shiny grand piano that he had for years.

In his youth, he had written many songs, but somewhere down the road the music left him. The last time he ever wrote a song was when he was seventeen, nearly 8 years ago.

He couldn't write anymore, and it frustrated him. He had no passion, and he couldn't find it. He wasn't a passionate man anymore. He was an outcast. One of those creepy guys. He was alone.

He was angry, angry at everything and everyone. When he was 17 his mother died in a car accident, then shortly after that his only sibling drowned, then his father died of a heart attack. His friends turned their backs on him, and the love of his life fell in love with somebody else. He had nobody and he liked it that way.

He had no reason to play the piano anymore, or even try. He had no reason for anything. Everyday he woke up, went to work at Wal-mart, came home, and went to sleep. Every single day.

But soon something would happen to him, something that he never expected would happen to anyone on earth, and more importantly, something he would come to re-discover. He was going to find his happiness again. He was going to find love.

A New Beginning

To all of the loyal fans (if any) of Our Super Stories blog, we apologize! We are sorry for not entertaining you with our randomness and wacky stories and letting you down, but we are coming back, and we are actually going to be writing!

To all the authors of this blog, there has been a new rule. As of right now, each member must post at least one thing a week, whether a story or a chapter of a story you are writing. If you fail to write anything within two weeks, I will be forced to remove you from the blog.

Also, to any readers of this blog who I know, if you would like to be an author, or you have a sibling who likes to write and wants to be an author, contact me. We'd like committed and passionate writers!

Again, we are sorry, and I will be having discussions with my fellow administrator Luna about new ideas to liven the blog and make it more interesting and enjoyable for your reading! Thank you!