https://shifti.org/api.php?action=feedcontributions&feedformat=atom&user=Jedcurtis 2026-06-28T09:50:22Z User contributions MediaWiki 1.46.0-alpha https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=9404 2008-12-04T20:59:49Z

<p>Jedcurtis: Replacing page with &#039;All gone to the White Lion&#039;s page&#039;</p> <hr /> <div>All gone to the White Lion's page</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Whale_Jelly&diff=9402 2008-12-04T20:39:06Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Animal]] [[Category:Aquatic]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> ==Part 1==<br /> <br /> Curtis examined himself in the mirror. The spot was definitely getting bigger. Why today of all days? The day of the High School Summer ball!<br /> <br /> “Crap! I need to get some lotion for that.” moaned the teenager, reaching for his jacket.<br /> <br /> He plodded down the busy street in search of a pharmacists. He spied the familiar green cross on the sign at the end of the street, and hoped it was open. It wasn’t!<br /> <br /> Curtis spun around, hoping to find somewhere else. A grocers perhaps? Or a supermarket. He hadn’t lived in Swansdown for very long, and wasn’t familiar with the town yet. It had been difficult making new friends at school, and now with a chance of going to his first School prom with Susan – the girl of his dreams – he wasn’t going to let a poxy blackhead ruin it for him. <br /> <br /> Curtis was about to give up when he spied a small shop front, with a tatty sign hanging above the door. It was mainly painted in strange oriental writing, but underneath was written:<br /> <br /> &quot;Chinese Herbal Medicines: For All Your Needs!”<br /> <br /> “Excellent!” cried Curtis, and he swiftly crossed the street and entered the small shop.<br /> <br /> Behind the counter sat a wizened oriental gentleman, the classic Chinese stereotype from a Hollywood movie of the Fifties.<br /> <br /> “Vot can I do vor you yong sir?” said the man with a voice to match his comic book appearance.<br /> <br /> “Um – I need some cream to clear my skin up.” said Curtis, pointing to his face.<br /> <br /> “I see...” whispered the man, “and vot is the problem viv vor skin?”<br /> <br /> “Ain’t it obvious?” moaned Curtis, “I’ve got spots the size of the Millennium Dome on my face, and it’s my school prom tonight. I’m gonna be in my best black and whites, but it’s gonna be a real killer with this though” <br /> <br /> “I have just the ving for you my child.” said the man, and he reached under the counter and pulled out a small pot. It was covered in strange Chinese writing.<br /> <br /> “What’s that?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “A simple lotion yong sir. It will smooth vor skin, and make you a real killer in yor in black and whites.” he replied.<br /> <br /> “Excellent! I’ll take it.” said Curtis, “How much is it?”<br /> <br /> “To you sir, nothing.” said the kindly man, “I feel you need a free sample first.” Curtis thanked the man and left. Not only had he saved his hot date, but it had cost him nothing either. <br /> <br /> Racing home, Curtis hurried to the bathroom to rub the cream onto his face. The pot contained a strange pink substance that looked like strawberry custard. Curtis dipped his fingers in and smeared a drop of cream onto his spot. It tingled slightly, and then was absorbed. Curtis stared in wonder as the acne shrank back into the skin, and vanished. Looking down at his hands, Curtis also noticed that they too were tingling. His jaw dropped. A small cut on his finger faded and healed; and all his skin on his hand turned a smooth, attractive shade of pale pink.<br /> <br /> Curtis scooped out a whole handful of cream, and smeared it all over his face. He waited for the tingling to ease, and then squealed with joy as all his acne, freckles and moles disappeared under a uniform hue. It was a little pale for Curtis’s true liking, but it was better than being a pizza face.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to stare as not only did the colour of his skin fade, but also the flesh began to fill out slightly – not enough to look strange, but sufficient to give his once scrawny face the look of a well-trained athlete.<br /> <br /> “Bloody wow!” shouted Curtis, “That crazy old man was right! I’m gonna be a stud!”<br /> <br /> Curtis poured about half of the contents of pot into the bath, and then turned on the taps. The mixture fizzed and bubbled in the warm water. Curtis was getting excited. There would be no way that Susan was going to be able to resist him tonight. Stripping off, Curtis jumped in the bath and began to soak in the strange lotion. He felt like his whole body was covered in pins and needles, but not enough to cause discomfort. After about half an hour, he got out and dried himself. Curtis looked at his body. Nothing was happening. Why? <br /> <br /> “Blast! Perhaps the water diluted it too much?” he sighed.<br /> <br /> Curtis got dressed, and feeling somewhat dejected, plodded downstairs. Flicking on the TV, Curtis nestled in his favourite comfy armchair. It was late afternoon, and there was very little worth watching. Slowly but surely, Curtis drifted off to sleep.<br /> <br /> CLUNK!<br /> <br /> The remote control fell onto the floor, waking Curtis. How long had he been asleep? Curtis fumbled for the remote control in the evening gloom, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He tried to stand up, but found himself wedged in between the arms of the chair. <br /> <br /> “What the hell?” said Curtis aloud. Flicking on the table lamp next to him, Curtis was shocked to see that he had gained a lot of weight since falling asleep.<br /> <br /> “Cooool!” squealed Curtis, “The potions’ working! A little fat, but that will tone up – I hope.”<br /> <br /> Curtis sat up, looking at his hands. He wasn’t sure, but they were definitely smooth, and larger than before. Funny, they even seemed a bit shiny. Starting to feel a little uneasy, Curtis tried to get to his feet again. He looked down at his legs. His thighs were continuing to swell inside his jeans, giving him the appearance of a blue balloon in a vice. The arms of the chair were beginning to groan, and Curtis pushed hard on them. Finally, like a cork coming out of bottle, he sprung out and landed in a heap on the floor. <br /> <br /> “Ouch!” <br /> <br /> Waddling upstairs, made more difficult with his legs rubbing together, Curtis looked at his watch. Becoming breathless, he halted at the top. <br /> <br /> “God, what’s happening to me? I’m a blimp.” squealed Curtis. <br /> <br /> He squeezed into his bedroom – only just managing to get through the door. Curtis fumbled with his belt, suddenly finding his fingers fusing together. It was like wearing thick plastic mittens. The discomfort started getting worse, and Curtis started to get anxious. He collapsed onto his bed, scattering his school books as he fell. Buttons started to pop off as he pawed at the fastenings.<br /> <br /> With a loud crack, the seams of his jeans split lengthways. Curtis was stunned to see his legs had turned mottled white, and were silky smooth. With one last Herculean effort, Curtis peeled off his ruined clothes, and stared at his body. The sight that greeted him was not quite what he was hoping for. Instead of a chiselled hunk with smooth skin, Curtis’s body was bloated, and was a strange greyish colour. Dark blotches were forming on his back and legs, and there was a reddish lump on his spine.<br /> <br /> “Oh hell!” cried Curtis, starting to panic. The dark blotches were now reaching his face as he watched. This was not what he had been planning. What was happening to him? Curtis glanced at the clock. <br /> <br /> “Nearly eight! The prom starts at eight thirty!” Curtis opened his wardrobe, and pulled out his eveningwear. No time to worry now – whatever he looked like. He must get to the school or Susan would surely dump him. <br /> <br /> Curtis waddled over to his bed, and sat down. Picking up the smart black trousers, he squeezed his swelling legs in. The same with the shirt, jacket, socks, shoes and lastly bow tie. It was tight around his neck, and Curtis did his best to leave it with a loose a knot as possible.<br /> <br /> When Curtis reached the school, he feet were already aching. His shiny black shoes were crushing his feet, and worse still...... his abdomen was filling the crotch of his trousers – pushing them down, fighting with the belt keeping them up.<br /> <br /> Curtis walked up to the hall door, and handed the doorman his ticket.<br /> <br /> “Wearing gloves on a warm evening like this?” asked the doorman.<br /> <br /> “What?” asked Curtis, but upon looking at his hands, saw what the man was talking about. Curtis’s hands had turned black, the fingers disappearing into what looked like a flipper.<br /> <br /> “Urrrrr..... y-yes.... I’ve got a rash....” stuttered Curtis, and he hurried into the hall. He looked around for Susan in the crowded room. He saw her talking to Mickey Pearce, the class hunk and Curtis arch rival for Susan’s affections.<br /> <br /> “Geez, what happened to you?” asked Susan haughtily, pointing to Curtis’s bloated body.<br /> <br /> “Sorry – I’ve not been well.” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Looks like he’s been stuffing his fat gob too much.” smirked Mickey.<br /> <br /> “No, it’s not like that...... I’ve just got a bit of puppy fat.” replied Curtis hesitantly, all the time feeling the pressure on his body increase. Suddenly, Curtis arched his neck back as a surge of pain ran up his spine. There was a loud tearing sound as a black dorsal fin shot out of Curtis’s back.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” cried Susan.<br /> <br /> Curtis ran out of the doors, feeling his shoes explode of his feet. He shuddered in the men’s toilets, hoping the ground would swallow him up, or that he would awake from this nightmare. No such luck. Suddenly swelling rounder as if pumped full of gas, Curtis boomed out of his smart suit, and became squeezed between the walls of the cubicle he was hiding in.<br /> <br /> CRACK!<br /> <br /> The wooden partition walls gave way, and Curtis flopped out on to the ceramic floor. His legs merged with his arse, forming a huge tail. His arms shrank back into body, swelling as they went. Before long, the boy that had been Curtis was now a stranded killer whale. Turning his beady eye to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror, Curtis had to admit that he did look good in black and white.<br /> <br /> ==Part 2==<br /> <br /> Craig looked across the room. Being 21, he was the oldest reveller by nearly six years. All these kids were at their first proper school prom, most with dates. Why had this part of his life passed him by? He had never had a date for any of his school proms, and now – in his last year at University, he was still spending his Saturday night chaperoning a bunch of teenagers. Perhaps he spent too much time reading his books on wonders of the sea to notice those around him.<br /> <br /> There was a small commotion across the other side of the room, and Craig saw someone running through the double-doors that lead to the rest rooms. Worried that there might have been a fight, he trotted over to the entrance. He saw Susan, a girl who was allegedly dating Craig’s new next-door neighbour’s son, Curtis. Susan was crying, and being consoled by a number of her friends.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Craig to one of them.<br /> <br /> “Someone played a sick practical joke on her.” said the school stud, Mickey Pearce.<br /> <br /> “What do you mean?” asked Craig.<br /> <br /> “It was that pesky new kid Curtis from Swansdown. He put some kind of fake Halloween knife under his jacket that sprung out as if he’d been stabbed. The coward ran off when poor Susan screamed.” replied Mickey.<br /> <br /> “Where is he now?” enquired Craig.<br /> <br /> “Dunno, perhaps the little creep ran home?”<br /> <br /> Suddenly there was a loud crash from the rest room.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> The giant killer whale squirmed on the cold concrete floor, desperately trying to shift its massive bulk towards the door, even though it had very little chance of ever squeezing through that narrow entrance. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Craig stared in disbelief at the orca that filled the rest room. <br /> <br /> “Oh, Curtis, what have you done?” he said. The killer whale, looking forlornly at the young man, tried to speak. <br /> <br /> “My God Craig, what happened here?” shouted a moustachioed man standing in the hallway.<br /> <br /> “Um, I think this is someone’s sick practical joke, but God knows how they managed it.” replied Craig quickly.<br /> <br /> “Right, this is Cartwright’s doing. That spoilt 9th Grader’s parents work in the zoo. We must get this poor creature out of here before it suffocates.”<br /> <br /> “It’s not a fish, Principal.” replied Craig. “It’s a mammal. But it will die here anyway if we don’t moved it.”<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes – I know that!” shouted the Principal, “Now is no time for a biology lecture.” He rushed back into the corridor to summon help, whilst Craig knelt by the struggling giant, and rubbed his hands along its smooth skin.<br /> <br /> “Oh Curtis, what have you gotten yourself into?” asked Craig, as he pulled off the remnants of a dinner jacket from the orca’s dorsal fin.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> It took nearly an hour for the Fire service to arrive with their heavy lifting equipment. The Principal had questioned Cartwright about the incident, but the boy seemed as dumbstruck as everyone else. Word had quickly spread through the prom that somehow there was a real killer whale in the toilets. Parents were called, and the night closed prematurely. Craig stayed with the helpless beast all the time. The roof of the rest room had to be dismantled quickly, and the crane plucked the whale out of the tight confines of the room.<br /> <br /> All the fireman, teachers and police were at a loss to even contemplate how it had happened, but the fact of the matter was that they DID have a killer whale to contend with. Craig volunteered to help with the transportation, having a good knowledge of marine life (from his studies) – and also he had no date to take home anyway. Also, Craig suspected the truth.<br /> <br /> Alone in the back of lorry, Craig poured handfuls of saltwater over the killer whale’s back to keep it moist. He was slightly worried that the salt solution was too concentrated – as it made his own hands tingle as he rubbed it onto the orca’s drying skin, which showed signs of fading to grey as it dehydrated.<br /> <br /> “Curtis, I don’t know how you managed to do this – but you are a lucky person.” said Craig. The killer whale let out a mournful, single squeak. <br /> <br /> “I guessed you had gotten yourself into something. If only you could tell me how you managed this?”<br /> <br /> The killer whale said nothing this time, not even a click.<br /> <br /> Craig continued to caress the unfortunate Curtis, as the lorry and its police escort made its way to the coast. The Press had already been alerted, and were waiting at the dock. The lorry shuddered to a halt, and raised voices could be heard from outside. Flashlights illuminated the sides of lorry. Suddenly, the back door flew open. The continued flashing of the lights startled the killer whale, who rocked from side to side.<br /> <br /> “Stop it Curtis. It’s only cameras.” whispered Craig, but it was too late. The lorry’s tyre, already perilously close to the edge of the dock, slipped on the wet concrete, and the lorry plunged over into the icy water. Craig and one of the fireman were taken with it. <br /> <br /> The water was pitch black, and Craig had hit his head in the fall. The huge orca began to pound the canvass sides of the lorry, desperate to get out.<br /> <br /> Craig, semi-conscious, fumbled with the straps holding him in – but his hands were already numb with cold. He could just made out Curtis the killer whale tearing his way through the woven cover of the lorry’s roof.<br /> <br /> “Wait for me.” thought Craig in desperation. He had removed the last strap blocking his way, but then he noticed that his foot was trapped by the stretcher used to lift Curtis. <br /> <br /> “I’m going to die....” thought Craig, and he shut his eyes.<br /> <br /> Just then, a strange warm feeling flooded through his tired and aching body. He opened his eyes to see Curtis had returned, but perhaps he was hallucinating? The once massive orca was now a fairly plump dolphin, and shrinking all the time. As Craig watched in the murky water, what had once been a large black and white orca was now a grinning dolphin. Whilst this had been happening, Craig had failed to notice that he was no longer drowning.<br /> <br /> Curtis the dolphin swam back into the lorry, and nuzzled the stretcher sledge, freeing Craig. Curtis turned around, and offered his tail to Craig as a tow. Craig tried to grab hold of the tail to help pull himself out, but found his arms were very numb. He also felt something digging into his sides, and he fumbled around to find out that it was his belt. In the gloom, Craig saw his belly bulging around the leather strap and buckle, straining the buttons on his shirt and trousers.<br /> <br /> “Yesssssss….” hissed Craig.<br /> <br /> Trying to free himself from his constraining clothes, Craig found his arms stiffening into hard fins. Curtis nuzzled Craig again, which accelerated the transformation in Craig. Bulking up quickly, Craig torso blasted open his shirt and the seams of his trousers. Only his belt stubbornly refused to split. Craig felt his head starting his shift on his neck, forcing it to point straight forward. <br /> <br /> “Oh my, oh my, oh my...” squealed Craig in his mind. “It can’t be?”<br /> <br /> It was!<br /> <br /> With his legs slimming and merging into a sleek tail, Craig was able to wriggle out of his chaffing belt. Soon he was free to join Curtis in the open sea.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> The official report stated that tragic news that young Craig Connery died whilst freeing a stranded orca. The trapped fireman reported that just before he was rescued, he noticed dolphins trying to help – but no one ever saw the young man again. Later in the week, the disappearance of schoolboy Curtis Suraci was assumed to have been another runaway. Only the two dancing dolphins on the horizon knew the truth………….</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Wacky_Baccy&diff=9401 2008-12-04T20:37:36Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Animal]] [[Category:Equine]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> “Hey Curtis! We’ve got some real good stuff for tonight. You must try some.” said Tim, holding up a bag of green, shredded leaves.<br /> <br /> “Not again.” replied Curtis, “You know I don’t touch that stuff.”<br /> <br /> “Ah, but this is different.” chortled Tim, “This stuff is direct from Tibet. It is herbal. Good for you. The Buddhist monks swear by it!” <br /> <br /> “I’m sure they do. How did you get hold of it.” sighed Curtis.<br /> <br /> “My usual place. What of it?” interjected Roland, somewhat abruptly.<br /> <br /> “Oh leave him.” said Jon. “He just can’t handle having fun.”<br /> <br /> “There’s more to fun than stuffing your brain full of harmful fumes!” sneered Curtis, his patience weakening. “Anyway, can’t you smoke that somewhere else? It stinks the place out, and I don’t particularly want to get arrested if you get caught.”<br /> <br /> “For heaven’s sake!” screamed Roland. “Are you deliberately trying to become my mother?”<br /> <br /> “Shut up Roland” retorted Curtis. “You are always harping on about human rights and people’s free choice – so why don’t you ever respect my free choice?”<br /> <br /> “I was talking about ‘human’ rights, not freaks like you.... Curty-wurty” smirked Roland, obviously pleased with his own wit. Curtis refused to lose his temper, and skulked off to his room, cursing under his breath.<br /> <br /> “Awww, Roland. We were suppose to get him to join us.” moaned Tim. “We’re never gonna get him high with that attitude.”<br /> <br /> “He’s the one with the attitude problem.” grumbled Roland. <br /> <br /> It was not long before the downstairs was again full of pungent smoke, and dazed students – spouting a whole raft of half-baked, extreme left-wing philosophies. Meanwhile, Curtis sat at his computer, flicking across his various files, listening the voices downstairs, secretly wishing that he too could join in with them and to hell with responsibilities. <br /> <br /> He could actually smell their new herbs, the faint wisps of which were filtering under his bedroom door. They didn’t smell too bad – being rather fruity in fact. The smoke, however, was tinged green – which made Curtis uneasy. He got up from his chair, and wedged a blanket along the threshold of his door – hoping that it would at least block out some of the fumes.<br /> <br /> Fighting the growing numbness in his limbs, he plonked his body back in front of his computer. He remembered that he had not yet read Bryan’s pending e-mail digest from the fantasy writers. It was the usual stuff. Comparison of group member’s werewolf stories, alerts about up-and-coming scenes in network shows in the USA, a few in-house jokes between the friendly subscribers – nothing out of the ordinary.<br /> <br /> “Oh well.” sighed Curtis, scratching his head. “I’ll submit something when I get a chance to write it.”<br /> <br /> It was at this point that the voices downstairs went very quiet. This grabbed Curtis’s attention. He knew from past experience that after a while, any sensible conversation between his doped friends petered out after an hour or so, but it was usually followed by sniggering and stupid animal noises. Not total silence. Switching off his PC, Curtis strained his ears to hear anything. Still nothing! <br /> <br /> “Good, peace at last.” thought Curtis, flopping onto his bed.<br /> <br /> Curtis rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The Sun was already half way up the skyline, and the outside noise of traffic and pedestrians reverberated around the room. The alarm clock had once again failed in its one and only duty of the morning.<br /> <br /> “Thank god it’s Saturday.” murmured Curtis, falling out of bed and crawling to the door on his knees. He reached up, pulling his dressing gown down off its hook – which only resulted in it falling on top of him. “Drats!”<br /> <br /> There was no sign of Roland in his room, which Curtis found odd. Curtis himself was not especially an early starter in the mornings – but Roland never usually surfaced before the afternoon. Curtis did, however, find Roland sprawled out on the living room floor – grinning, and fast asleep. Curtis turned back into the kitchen; and with the last of the milk, poured himself a large bowl of cereal. Returning to the living room, Curtis collapsed into a chair. His stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels, and the addition of milk and shredded wheat did little to placate it. <br /> <br /> “Wake up fatso!” called Curtis, prodding Roland in the ribs with his foot.<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone......” grumbled Roland, not opening his eyes.<br /> <br /> “Suit yourself....” came the reply, and Curtis looked around for the television remote control. He saw it a few feet away from his chair, poking out under a pile of shredded paper. Being too lazy to get up, Curtis tried to reach it with his feet – eventually getting a grip with two toes, and pulled it back towards his chair. In the process of doing this, he accidentally switched the television on. Much to Curtis’s delight, it was the time for the children’s cartoons.<br /> <br /> “Coooool!” said Curtis, snuggling back into the padded armchair. <br /> <br /> The day dragged on. Roland took himself to bed, to sleep off the after-effects of having slept all day. Curtis meanwhile, had got dressed and begun tidying up Roland’s mess.<br /> He was amazed at how three blokes could have created so much chaos in one evening. Furniture had been knocked over, newspaper torn to pieces and food tipped liberally all over the floor.<br /> <br /> “I should’ve kept an eye on them.” thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Leave that alone!” shouted Roland’s voice from the hall. Curtis spun around to Roland glaring at him through the doorway. He was clad, rather unceremoniously, only in his boxer shorts – but he had such a vicious stare on his face that any comedy value was soon lost.<br /> <br /> “W-what’s the problem?” asked Curtis, “I was only clearing up.”<br /> <br /> “Just stop treating me like a bloody kid!” snarled Roland, his face even more contorted in rage.<br /> <br /> “Okay then... but I do live here too.” snapped Curtis, pushing past Roland.<br /> <br /> “Pity!” said Roland unkindly. Curtis just sneered back, and went back to his room. Roland waited until Curtis was shut his door, before walking into the living room – and squatting atop the pile of cushions and newspaper, his eyes fixed in a steely glare at the door.<br /> <br /> Curtis fired up his computer, his only real outlet at times of stress. Roland’s attitude had not only annoyed Curtis, but had also slightly unsettled him as well. Roland could be a pain – but he was never really that aggressive before. Curtis decided that it would be wisest to steer well clear of his housemate for the rest of the day. Curtis hadn’t seen Roland all day. The mess in the living room, remained. In fact, it had grown. Shreds of cloth now adorned the pile, as well as the contents of some foam cushions.<br /> <br /> “Geez. This is getting ridiculous!” bemoaned Curtis, getting a plastic sack, and started filling it with the rubbish. Just at that point, Roland, Tim and Jon piled in through the front door, laughing and snorting. <br /> <br /> “Hmmmm. Shit – this is great yeah!” said Tim, taking another puff of his cigarette.<br /> Jon’s bloodshot eyes belied his growing state of intoxication. Roland wobbled about on his unsteady legs.<br /> <br /> “Evening.” said Curtis quietly. All three stopped in their tracks, glaring into the living room at Curtis, filling the bag with the rubbish.<br /> <br /> “Leave that alone!” shouted Roland, and he lunged at Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey, cut it out.” said Curtis as Roland grabbed him by the shoulder.<br /> <br /> “You are gonna pay for that.” shouted Roland, trying to snatch the bag away from Curtis. Tim and Jon just stood in the doorway, smirking and smoking. Finally Roland managed to wrestle the bag from Curtis, and empty its contents back onto the floor.<br /> <br /> “Hell Roland, what’s the matter with you?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “You are!” shouted Roland, “You are always bloody interfering with my life. Always spoiling everything. Always being the good boy scout.”<br /> <br /> “I was never a scout.” said Curtis, “And beside – I’m aloud to do what I like. I am paying half the rent here remember.”<br /> <br /> Roland said nothing, but stormed back into the hallway. Tim and Jon joined him in the kitchen, whilst the green smoke wafted around.<br /> <br /> “Hey... you are not smoking that crap again?” roared Curtis as the pungent odour reached his nose.<br /> <br /> “What of it?” replied Roland aggressively. <br /> <br /> “I’ll tell you what!” shouted Curtis as he stormed into the kitchen, snatching the spliff out of Roland’s mouth, “It is illegal, it is unhealthy – an it makes me feel sick.”<br /> <br /> “You make me sick!” retorted Roland, causing Tim and Jon to laugh girlishly.<br /> <br /> “You are going to be sorry.” said Curtis harshly, and he turned to go to his room. Roland blew a puff of green smoke behind Curtis. The strange fumes danced around Curtis’s head, and he stumbled.<br /> <br /> “Oh, stay down here Curty-wurty.” sneered Roland, “Smoke with us – and you’ll have a wild time.”<br /> Curtis staggered to his feet, waves of nausea flowing over him.<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone......” cried Curtis, and he ran to his room. <br /> <br /> The next morning, Curtis ventured back downstairs. He stared at Roland, fast asleep atop his nest of cloth, paper and cushions – and sporting a large plume of feathers from the top of his head.<br /> <br /> “A fine practical joke.” thought Curtis. He walked over to Roland, who was snoring painfully loudly. As Curtis watched, Roland rolled over onto his side – revealing a huge tear in the back of his t-shirt. On closer inspection, Curtis could see that Roland had two distinct lumps on his shoulder blades, all blistered and red.<br /> <br /> “That’s not right?” thought Curtis. <br /> <br /> “Time to get up Roland!” he shouted. Roland opened one eye, and grinned.<br /> <br /> “It was a good night last night. You should’ve stayed” he whispered, and sat up.<br /> <br /> “What were you doing? Look at you.” said Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Look at me what?” replied Roland, raising a downy eyebrow to his housemate.<br /> <br /> “Look at you - I said! You look like a bloody bird!” <br /> <br /> “That’s funny.” said Roland lazily. “I was dreaming about getting inside Julia when you woke me up.”<br /> <br /> “Not girls. A real bird.” interrupted Curtis. Roland slowly got to his feet and wandered into the kitchen – to take a look at himself in the mirror.<br /> <br /> “OOOHHHHHHH SHHHIIIIIIIITTTTT!” came the cry.<br /> <br /> “See what I mean” called Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god! This is a joke right?” gabbled Roland, clutching his face – feeling his teeth slowly push down onto his bottom lip – getting longer and wider. <br /> <br /> “You tell me – party animal?” retorted Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey man. Help me!” squawked Roland, the bulges in his back expanding with sickening cracks and crunches.<br /> <br /> “It’s not my fault.” replied Curtis, “Must have been something you smoked.” <br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> Jon and Tim lay slumped on their hall floor, where they had managed to stumble to the night before. As if on cue, they both awoke together.<br /> <br /> “Wooooo.... I need a drink” stammered Tim, getting up and pushing past Jon for the front door.<br /> <br /> “You can’t go out!” called Jon after him. “looking like that!”<br /> <br /> “That’s good coming from you.... yeti boy!” laughed Tim.<br /> <br /> “What?” asked Jon, putting his hands up to his face. To his horror, he saw tufts of thick white and brown hair on his wrists. On touching his face, he found that he now had bushy sideburns that now reached his chin.<br /> <br /> “What’s happened to us? It’s that bloody muck we were smoking last night.” roared Jon.<br /> <br /> “Can’t be! What makes you think that? It was only some Tibetan grass. Ask Roland. He bought it.” said Tim, grabbing his jacket from the rack. His clothes, however, hung very loose over his hunched body. The cuffs of his trousers were already dragging on the floor. <br /> <br /> “Don’t leave me.” called Jon, but Tim stormed out – slamming the door behind him. <br /> <br /> Jon wandered into the bathroom, and lifted up his shirt. The strange fur was now covering his stomach and chest now. It pricked and tickled his skin, and made him uncomfortably hot. Replacing the shirt, Jon pulled down his jeans, and saw to his dismay that his legs too were covered in the same matted brown blanket. He was also getting bigger. His shirt was being pulled snugly over his back and chest. Quickly stripping naked, Jon turned around to see what the reflection of his back looked like. Not only was it covered in fur to the same extent as the rest of him – it also was developing a noticeable arch, pushing him forwards as he watched.<br /> <br /> “Oh shit!” he yelped. “I must get some help now. Blast you Tim!”<br /> <br /> Jon pulled up his jeans, and with great difficulty fastened them around his swelling butt. Limping back to his room, he put on some shoes and a loose shirt. His shoes were uncomfortably tight, and getting tighter even as he put them on. Taking one last look in the mirror, he saw his nose widen – and his ears grow tufts of hair at the tips. <br /> <br /> Jon staggered downstairs, grasping the banister for support. Walking was becoming difficult – but he made it to the front door. Where now? Roland’s? <br /> <br /> Jon walked along the street, feeling his clothes begin to constrain him. There was definitely something growing in the seat of his jeans, and it tickled like hell. There was no sign of Tim anywhere. In fact, the road was pretty deserted. Jon started off towards Roland’s place – which was only about a quarter of an hour away. <br /> <br /> Jon winced and limped his way along the pavement as the bones in his feet crunched and shifted. However, he could only walk about another ten yards before he was forced to sit on a low wall, and tug off his trainers. His feet seemed to be all knotted under his socks, with the outline of his toes becoming indistinct even as he tried to wiggle them. Anything past the ball of his foot was now numb. Slowly, Jon replaced his shoes and carried on, but left them laced loosely.<br /> <br /> It was a bright sunny day – and Jon was wondering how Tim had managed to be so quick in getting away. Sure, Tim had left about five minutes before him, but the long, straight road to Roland’s house stretched a good ten minute walk in front of him – and Tim was no where to be seen. Jon was convinced that this hairy problem had something to do with the ‘wacky baccy’ he and his friends had smoked the night before – but from his limited knowledge of biology he knew nothing could cause an effect like this. Perhaps he was hallucinating everything? No, the growing pain in his butt was proof against that.<br /> <br /> On reaching the park gate a few hundred yards up the street, Jon felt his heels shift up his leg – slipping out of the back of his shoes. He fell forwards, grabbing onto the lamppost for support. Then......... SCHLUEKKK!!! Jon’s shoes and socks suddenly burst open with a sickening rip – revealing a pair of impressive black hooves, which clattered on the concrete path. Jon was actually relieved for at least some of the pressure on his body to have eased.<br /> <br /> “Oh bloody hell!” moaned Jon, “Roland and Tim are gonna pay for this.”<br /> <br /> The fur over his body was getting thicker – causing terrible itching; made all the more worse by him trying to scratch it through his clothing. Jon winced as his lower spine extended into the seat of his already stuffed jeans. His tail, for that is what it was, was folding over on itself in layers of long bristly hair and cartilage. It felt like having a rather hairy cushion pushed down his pants. Jon’s attention, however, was more attracted by the swelling of his joy department in the front of his jeans. The feeling of arousal was like nothing he had experienced before – not even the first time he had had sex was as good as this. Looking down, Jon saw what looked like an erotic football gradually bulking up behind his zipper.<br /> <br /> Jon clopped along the pavement, hoping that passers by would assume he was wearing a pair of ski boots – albeit in spring. The tingling in his spine continued, as his silky tail gradually pushed its way down the left leg of his jeans. Fur was now started to spurt out of his collar, and onto his hands – which were now also becoming numb at the fingertips. Jon continued to try and scratch the itching over his changing frame – with little success.<br /> <br /> He looked up to see a nearby bus stop. Perhaps he could get a ride to Roland’s – before he changed completely. He tried to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, but he could not squeeze his hand in to grab it. The pressure of his tightening clothes was now becoming unbearable. Jon’s front door keys in his jeans’ pocket were now digging into his leg like small claws. His shoulders swelled – cramming the sleeves of his shirt to form powerful forelegs. His belly forced itself outwards with each breath, pushing his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and straining the buttons.<br /> <br /> “I must get these bloody clothes off!” cried Jon, stumbling down a side alley as another wave of growth struck him. Now on his knees, he frantically pulled at the taut fabric - trying to find a loose fastening somewhere, but his hands had already begun to fuse at the knuckles. The cuffs of his jeans wouldn’t fit over his hooves in any case now. Tugging at his leather belt, Jon realised that it was now far too tight to be unbuckled. The zip too, had been engorged rigid by his monstrous manhood, which continued to bulge more and more. Jon felt that the tip of his tail was now almost down to his ankles. Finally there was a small popping of seams, and the top of his tail forced its way out of the back of his jeans, and swished around in the cool air.<br /> <br /> “Oh sod it, how am I gonna hide that now?” thought Jon, pulling himself upright with the help of a dustbin, “I knew I should have stayed in bed today......”<br /> <br /> Jon recovered his composure as the sudden wave of change eased. He tried to push the end of his tail into the waistband of his jeans – but there was no spare room in them at all, so he was forced to let it swish behind him and hoped no one would notice. By glancing at this swollen frame, Jon was sure he must have put on nearly a hundred pounds in weight in the last five minutes. If only he could make it to Roland’s place before he was all horse; not that Roland could do much for him. <br /> <br /> Jon clopped along the path, trying to look inconspicuous as his head grew longer and thinner. People stared at him, some pointed – but no one said anything. Fortunately, it was not unusual to see students dressed in furry animal costumes walking about – usually for charity or something similar. It seemed like an eternity – but eventually Jon made it to Roland’s front door. He thumped on the wood with his front hooves, braying at the top of his new voice.<br /> Curtis opened the door, and smiled at the equine Jon. <br /> <br /> “Ah ha, it’s Jon.” said Curtis, turning to look back into the room. Jon strained his warped neck to follow Curtis’s view. He saw a huge, black bird – like a mutant raven, shifting around in the living room.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jon, why the long face?” chortled Curtis, taking his horsy friend by the hoof and pulling him into the house.<br /> <br /> “As you can see, Roland’s is a pretty impressive crow now. Too bad he can’t fly. As for you, you are looking a bit horse.” Curtis was loving this. His dope-smoking friends were paying the price for their taunting. “And where is young Timothy?” continued Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Heeeeee’s nooooooot heeeeeeere alllredddy?” brayed Jon.<br /> <br /> “Nope. Just us.” replied Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Awwwww. I woooonderrrrr whatsssss haaaaaappened toooooo him?”<br /> <br /> Curtis walked away from Jon and Roland, and sat back in his armchair. <br /> <br /> “This is a fine pickle you’ve landed me in.” said Curtis. “You can’t stay here. Roland’s gonna start moulting soon, and you Jon – need a stable.”<br /> <br /> Roland said nothing, but Jon piped up “Heeeeeey! Aren’t yoooooooou wooooondeeeering hooow thissss hhhhappppennnned? I am!”<br /> <br /> “No, not really old boy. I assume it’s one of three things. I’m dreaming. You’re dreaming, or Roland’s dreaming.” explained Curtis.<br /> <br /> “I’m nooooot dreeaming!” said Jon, giving Curtis a look of disdain on his bizarre equine face. <br /> <br /> “Are you sure?” asked Curtis. “Did you ever hear about the man who dreamt his was frog. When he awoke, he didn’t know whether he was a man who had just dreamt of being a frog, or a frog who was dreaming he was now a man.” <br /> <br /> Suddenly, Jon screwed his face up as he began to change again. His head grew outwards, his hair sprouting into an impressive mane along his elongated neck. His buttocks and thighs then pumped up like balloons – stretching his jeans further until they exploded off in shreds. His torso followed suit – first popping off the buttons on his shirt, and then splitting the back and sleeves. Jon then fell forward onto all fours, and a few seconds later looked just like a normal, young stallion.<br /> <br /> “There now. Isn’t that better?” said Curtis calmly, “Fancy some carrots?”<br /> <br /> The horse just looked back blankly.<br /> <br /> “Go on Jon.... you don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve tried it” sneered Curtis.<br /> <br /> The horse became agitated, and reared its head back. Curtis followed its gaze, to see Roland the Raven shrinking fast, and squawking as he went. Within seconds he was the size of a normal bird – and fluttering around the room in panic. Fortunately, the windows were all shut. Curtis looked around. Jon the Horse was nibbling a cushion, whilst Roland the Raven was defecating uncontrollably all over the carpet.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmm, nothing new there then.” giggled Curtis. <br /> <br /> There was a loud thumping on the sitting room window, and Curtis glanced up – to see an excited spaniel with a mop of curly hair pounding on the glass. <br /> <br /> “Ah, Tim’s turned up.” declared Curtis, who wandered over to the window and opened it. Tim scrambled into the room, wagging his tail. <br /> <br /> “Tim, are you still in there?” asked Curtis calmly. The spaniel just panted, and stuck its tongue out. <br /> <br /> “Well, looks like I’m the only one left standing – as usual.” sighed Curtis.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Stable_Manners&diff=9400 2008-12-04T20:36:02Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Equine]] [[Category:White Lion]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> As the two kissed, the Manor stable door was flung open. Gethin the farmer glaring at the startled young lovers. They hadn’t seen him in the dark of the New Moon creep up to the Barn. Curtis the stable lad jumped back, whilst Sarah tried to gesture to her Uncle in apology.<br /> <br /> “You will pay for tarnishing my family’s honour.” Bellowed Gethin as he grabbed Sarah by the hair. Curtis tried to help his new girlfriend, but was flung back by Gethin’s strong left arm, and sprawled on to the floor. Gethin pushed Sarah into one of the stalls and clamped her arms into some loose shackles used for tethering excited mounts. Gethin then turned around and looked down at Curtis. <br /> <br /> “So, I took into my confidence, my stable – and this is how you repay me. Well, here you shall always remain, never to cast your wanton eye on a female again.” sneered Gethin.<br /> <br /> Gethin bent down, extended his index finger and touched Curtis on the hand. A strange tingling sensation flowed through the boy’s body. He rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach as a wave of pain hit him. Tears rolled down his eyes as Gethin just looked on, smiling. <br /> <br /> “Help him!” shouted Sarah, but Gethin ignored her. She tried to break free from her shackles, but it was hopeless. Curtis stared at his hands in horror. They looked as if they were melting, the skin and bone began to ooze downwards, and his palms inflated to absorb them. His nails turned black and fused further down his shrinking fingers. Curtis lifted them up to his face, scratching one with the other to try and feel his fingers. Tufts of white hair began to sprout from his wrists, just like those he had seen on Gethin’s horses.<br /> <br /> “Stop this please!” cried Curtis, but Gethin just walked casually over to the boy and rubbed him on the head. At that instance, Curtis’ ears began to itch, stretch and grow upwards – with sprigs of hair at their tops. Curtis squirmed uncomfortably on the floor. All his clothes began to feel far too constricting, pulling tightly about his arms, legs and torso. <br /> <br /> Gethin now began to massage Curtis’s neck, his fingers brushing through Curtis’s collar length hair. At that moment Curtis’s hair began to grow, not only from his head but down the length of his neck and under his t-shirt and denim jacket. Gethin then grabbed a hold of Curtis’s jacket collar and yanked him up on to all fours. Gethin then continued to rub his hands along Curtis’s back. Curtis wriggled in great discomfort as his back started to arch upwards, and his belly formed a paunch. <br /> <br /> Gethin then stroked Curtis’s sides, and they started to bulk up. His zipped up denim jacket now squeezed around him, the seams digging into his shoulders. Gethin now walked around to behind Curtis, and laid a hand on his rear end. Immediately, Curtis’s buttocks and thighs began to inflate inside his jeans, and he grimaced as the pressure grew and grew. His belt groaned under the strain, and the buckle exploded off, clattering onto the concrete floor. <br /> <br /> A wicked grin formed on Gethin’s face, and he stooped down by Curtis and rubbed the youth’s ankles. Soon there was a creaking sound, and Curtis’s white sneakers began to deform, the canvas and soles bulging outwards. Both Sarah and Curtis were crying now, but Curtis’s whimpers had a very wheezing edge. <br /> <br /> Gethin returned to Curtis’s belt line, and jabbed a finger directly between Curtis’s rear pockets. Now a new tail lump joined the already engorged spheres stuffed into the blue jeans. Some of the bristles were beginning to poke out from the top of the belt, however the bulk of it pushed down one of the legs of the jeans.<br /> <br /> The pain was becoming excruciating as Curtis grew bigger. He could feel his thighs being squashed by his jeans, and his shoulders ached to be free of his tightening jacket. Gethin reached over to the side of the stall, and grabbed a bridle. He forced the bit into Curtis’s mouth by holding his nose shut. As Curtis gasped, the bridle was pulled over his head and fastened behind his neck. Curtis face began to push forward into the muzzle, and he snorted in terror.<br /> <br /> Curtis was now getting much bigger, gaining about 100 lbs every minute. The canvas of his sneakers started to tear away. The laces snapped one by one, and deformed socks poked their way through the ripping shoes. Not long after his feet had emerged from the mess of rubber and canvas that were once his sneakers, the socks split open too. A pair of shiny hooves now scraped along the ground. <br /> <br /> Curtis’s clothes were starting to cut off the circulation to his arms and legs. Gethin, not wanting his prized new mare damaged, laid a hand on Curtis’s back and rubbed hard. His growth accelerated and soon stitches were beginning to pop in Curtis’s garments. Suddenly a large rip split in the back of the jacket. It grew with each breath, revealing the smooth brown horsehair back underneath. The sleeves, stretched to the point of bursting, could take no more and exploded off Curtis in a shower of denim rags.<br /> <br /> Curtis was now very much equine, his cries totally given way to whinnies. His huge muscular buttocks continued to try and expand their way through his jeans. Gethin began to kneed the horse’s behind and thighs. A small tear formed at the pockets of the jeans, and the seams split slowly down the length of the leg, every inch a blessed relief. Finally, with a thunderous boom – the seat of the jeans burst open and Curtis’s tail swished in the air.<br /> <br /> Gethin turned to Sarah with an evil grin, “Now it’s your turn my stallion!”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Sibling_Troubles&diff=9399 2008-12-04T20:35:23Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Equine]] [[Category:Animal]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> Justin plonked down into the chair. He had cycled all the way to my house – and looked exhausted.<br /> <br /> “Hey, did you get anything to drink?” I asked expectantly.<br /> <br /> “Yeah, I managed to find this stuff in my Dad’s shed. It’s all he had.”<br /> <br /> Justin held up a couple of small green bottles. The poorly printed labels on them read:<br /> <br /> DREAM MAKER: “You’ll the object of your loved ones desires! It really brings out the animal in everyone!”<br /> <br /> “Cooool!” I exclaimed, “I could do with animal magic to stand a chance with Julia.”<br /> <br /> “No way pal! If anyone gonna pull her for the Summer Ball – its gonna be yours truly.” smirked Justin.<br /> <br /> “Sure....” I sighed. Why did Justin always think he was God’s gift to girls. Yes, he was probably the best looking bloke in class (not that I noticed things like that) but he was no Boy Band heartthrob either.<br /> <br /> “Where did your Dad get this stuff?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Dunno mate. Never seen him drink it. In fact Mum and Dad don’t drink much at all. It took two hours to find this. Dad spends ages in his shed – building furniture, or making illegal beer” grumbled Justin “He never has any time for me. I needed help on my wood work project – but he seemed totally disinterested. But he can always find time for my bloody little sister.”<br /> <br /> “Tell me about it.” I replied. “Mum and Dad dote over Jason; but me – they don’t even know exist half the time.”<br /> <br /> Justin passed me a bottle, and clinking together them in a vague toast to riding the World of parents and younger siblings, we took a gulp.<br /> <br /> “Hey, that tastes good.” said Justin, wiping a dribble off his chin.<br /> <br /> “I’m not too sure” I replied. The strange liquid seemed to have passed its best – whatever it may have been. Justin carried on drinking – virtually emptying the bottle, but I only took a few more sips. After about five minutes of idle chat, Justin started to squirm uneasily in the chair. He looked a little pale. To be truthful, I was feeling a bit queasy as well. We couldn’t be drunk – we had barely drunk a bottle in total. <br /> <br /> “Wooooo, I feel funny.” groaned Justin.<br /> <br /> “Me too!” I replied, as my stomach started doing somersaults. I tried to turn the subject onto something else. “What were you saying about your sister earlier. Did she get that pony for her birthday?”<br /> <br /> “No, Mum and Dad can’t afford it. They tried to explain to her – but the stubborn little cow wouldn’t listen. In the end, Dad promised her she would get one somehow.” replied Justin, now looking as if he was in pain.<br /> <br /> “You’re lucky,” I joked, “My little brother Jason wanted a real life gorilla for his birthday last month.”<br /> <br /> Jason had always been fascinated by gorillas. He had nearly twenty toy ones, all fluffy, stuffed and horrible. Gorilla posters covered his walls, and his e-mail address was something like gorillaboy@yahoo. He just needed a real one to collect the set. I was about to continue to downgrade my kid brother some more when I saw Justin put his hands to his face, and scratch. <br /> <br /> I stared at him. Something was wrong. His face looked rougher, hairy. <br /> <br /> “You need a shave.” I quipped. <br /> <br /> “I don’t! I shaved this morning.” he blurted back. <br /> <br /> Suddenly Justin stood up, shaking. In the gloom of my bedroom, I could see that Justin was changing, growing. His face began to push outwards, taking on the shape of a muzzle. A horse’s muzzle!<br /> <br /> “Hhhhelp me!” whinnied Justin, as his hair grew down his neck. Justin stood erect - shaking and crying. His neck stretched longer. I could see the buttons on his shirt begin to strain from the growing bulk they had to contain. His jeans were getting tighter, clearly showing the development of huge muscles in his legs. <br /> <br /> “Jesus Justin!” I shouted. “You’re turning into a fucking horse!”<br /> <br /> Suddenly his shoes burst open, but instead of feet – a pair of hooves clattered onto the wooden floor. I continued to gaze as Justin’s head took on more and more equine features. The change seemed to flow up and down his body. The buttons started popping off his shirt one by one as his chest barrelled outwards. Splits appeared in the shoulders and sleeves as Justin’s new equine limbs forced their way into the open air. His whole body was slowly growing a thin layer of silky smooth hair, or was it fur?<br /> <br /> “Doooooooott Scumthing!” cried Justin, his voice loosing more and more of his familiar sound. There was nothing I could do, but watch.<br /> <br /> The top button and zip burst off his jeans. Justin then fell forward onto all fours, splitting the seat of his jeans as he did so. Through the split in the material he swished his long tail. It was not long before the jeans had split all the way down, leaving Justin standing there in all his horsey glory. Dumbstruck, I just looked at the horse standing in my bedroom where my best friend had been a minute or two earlier. One thing was for sure, he certainly wouldn’t complain about his new tackle. He would be God’s gift to the girl’s now. <br /> I walked slowly over to him, and rubbed my hand over his back. He whinnied, but said nothing I could understand. It was then that I noticed my own hand looked rather dark and shiny itself. Staring in disbelief and horror, my hands turned black – with thick stubbly hair sprouting out of the skin on their backs.<br /> <br /> “No, not me too” I cried, falling to my knees. I could feel the pressure begin to build in my training shoes. I was tempted to pull my shoes off, but was too frightened to see what was happening. I curled my toes over, trying to stay within my shoes. I could feel my socks tearing inside as my feet developed what felt like thumbs. My jeans then started to bulge as my legs shortened and thickened, and the buckle of my leather belt burst open to accommodate my new gut.<br /> <br /> Then it all stopped. <br /> <br /> Regaining my composure, I looked back at Justin. He was a fine horse – a colt! He twitched his head, and opened his mouth – but only wheezes came out. I thought I could just make out a whisper of “Help.” <br /> <br /> I turned and looked in the mirror. My face was wider than I remembered, and my forehead hung over my eyes like the brow of a cap. Black hair covered a large part of my head – making it look like I had a full beard and sideburns. I opened my mouth to speak, but my attention was captivated by my new set of fang-like canines. My hands were black and leathery. I was also about two inches shorter. I was unmistakably turning into a gorilla – but I was not as far gone as Justin. All this from drinking some reject alcoholic lemonade, or at least that’s what I thought it was.<br /> <br /> “Come on!” I said, “We can’t stay here.” <br /> <br /> I put my hand on Justin’s long neck, and tried to direct him towards the stairs, picking up the half-empty bottles of Dream Maker as I went. His hooves clattered loudly on the wooden floor. Thank goodness everybody was out. He stumbled, trying to get purchase on the ground. He acted just like a newborn foal did as it got use to walking, only that he was a teenage horse – not a baby. I too found it difficult to walk properly. My thighs were much thicker, and rubbed together. My jeans were pulled so tightly around my knees I couldn’t bend them properly. My shoes also felt like they were several sizes too small. <br /> <br /> I had just about made it to the top of the stairs when the tingling sensation started in my body again. I cried in pain, and fright as my arms started to stretch out of my shirt, becoming longer than my legs. I fell over onto all fours like Justin had done, feeling all the more comfortable for doing so. I managed to rid myself of my constraining shoes by flexing my toes a couple of times.<br /> <br /> Eventually we made it downstairs. Fortunately, my parents’ garden backed onto a small wood. We could hide out there until we had figured what had happened to us. I sat on the log whilst Justin circled around, nibbling at the shrubs. I rested my head in my thick hands, trying to work out what was going on. <br /> <br /> Justin was a horse. Why? <br /> <br /> I was turning into a giant ape? Why? <br /> <br /> What, if anything, did it have to do with that Dream Maker drink?<br /> <br /> “That’s it!” I boomed. “You’ll become your loved one’s desire. Bloody Jason! He’s got his stinking gorilla now.”<br /> <br /> I heard a creaking sound. Looking down – I saw the fabric of my jeans stretch as my legs started to grow again. There was the sound of seams popping. The top button of my shirt also popped off.<br /> <br /> “This is no good. We must do something.” I moaned, turning to look at Justin. Justin just cocked his head on one side, and looked as if it grinned – or as much of a grin as a horse could give. <br /> <br /> “Justin – it’s me...... Simon. Are you in there?” <br /> <br /> The horse just turned away, and then continued munching a small bush.<br /> <br /> “Oh no! Justin’s lost it.” I moaned. “This is hopeless.”<br /> <br /> Suddenly there was a rustling in the trees, and a familiar figure walked into the clearing.<br /> <br /> “M-m-mum?”<br /> <br /> “My dear – you do make a very fine ape. And sweet Justin, Zoë will be pleased!”<br /> <br /> At that point Justin’s little sister Zoë came bounding into the woods, followed by her parents. She threw her arms around Justin, shouting “A pony! A pony! Thank you Mummy and Daddy!”<br /> <br /> I looked at my Mother in horror. She had now been joined by Dad and Jason. Jason was crying, and whispered in Dad’s ear.<br /> <br /> “You’re not quite what Jason was hoping for Simon. I’m afraid you’ll have to finish your drink.”<br /> <br /> THE END!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Mister_Universe&diff=9398 2008-12-04T20:33:58Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Inanimate]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> “I want to be Mr Universe!” cried Curtis, taking a deep swig from the bottle. Only a few hours earlier he had bought this strange drink from the infamous old man on the hill. He’d promised it would make his dreams come true. Any wish – it would grant, but only once and it couldn’t be undone.<br /> <br /> Curtis thumped down the bottle of Dream Maker on the table, and turned towards his girlfriend Sarah.<br /> <br /> “So much for its poxy claim to make you into your greatest desire. I want to be a candidate for Mr Universe – but I’m more like Mr Puny-verse!”<br /> <br /> Sarah tried to comfort him.<br /> <br /> “I love you just the way your are.” she said.<br /> <br /> “Thanks, but I’m tired of being a skinny geek” said Curtis, still waiting for something to happen. He looked down at his unathletic body. At his loose clothes, covering his scrawny frame unevenly - like an old scarecrow. <br /> <br /> “This is hopeless. Nothing is gonna happen” mused the youth, as he brushed his hair out of his eyes.<br /> <br /> “Give it time,” said Sarah patiently. “The old man said that results took a while.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, right. That was seven quid I forked out on this muck.” moaned Curtis, as he picked up the bottle for a second swig. As he raised his arms, he felt a slight tingling running up and down his body. Was it about to start? The power and strength he so desperately wanted? Suddenly a terrible pain struck his stomach. Curtis clutched his waist, and snarled. <br /> <br /> “Hey, are you all right?” cried Sarah, rushing over to her boyfriend’s side. She put a comforting hand on his back. But something felt strange. The muscles were twitching under the fabric. There was no denying it - Curtis was changing. Growing! <br /> <br /> Sarah watched, mesmerized, as his chest slowly filled out his shirt. His shoulders, back, legs, everything grew progressively larger. Thicker. Deepening shadows indicated a pair of ominously muscular pectorals. Curtis' thickening legs filled out his jeans very quickly. Within seconds, they'd risen past his ankles, engorged by swelling thighs and calves – and getting progressively tighter and tighter. Sarah rubbed his legs. They were rock hard, and the muscle development was obvious. His quads looked like those of pro-football player, and they were still growing.<br /> <br /> “Holy Shit Curtis! It’s working” squealed Sarah<br /> <br /> Curtis’ chest was getting wider, and freakily muscular. He watched the outline of his pecs balloon inside his shirt – pulling it even tighter. He couldn't believe it! He was turning into a hunk, just like he had always wanted, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would happen. Especially like this. Enrapt, Curtis watched his body press even tighter against his clothes. He could feel himself developing. Becoming bigger. Stronger! <br /> <br /> By now, Curtis's chest had widened just as incredibly as it had mounded up. Although he couldn't feel them, there was no mistaking those monster pecs in his shirt, pulling it taut, fighting the buttons that kept it closed. He caught a glimpse down inside the shirt; all he saw an endless expanse of muscular flesh. Bulging! Growing! <br /> <br /> Curtis then felt his arms being lifted out to the sides; pushed away by bulked-up lats, that packed the seams of his shirt. His melon-sized shoulders followed suit, swelling, cramming his sleeves. His traps surged up, straining the collar. He swooned when he noticed his forearms. The former spindles were so tightly packed into his sleeves, he thought they would burst. He regarded the contorted fabric, pulled skin tight across those multitudinous bulges. <br /> <br /> His swelling legs stuffed his jeans like big blue sausages. They had already ridden up to mid-calf level. Curtis strained over his protruding pecs to look at his mighty running machines. He could make out every single striation and curve of his outrageous quads now filling his tight jeans. His feet too, felt uncomfortably tight in his training shoes.<br /> <br /> &quot;Bigger! I want to be bigger!&quot; bellowed Curtis, and he picked up the bottle of Dream Maker – and gulped down the rest in one swig. He was really enjoying getting huger and freakier. The simultaneous sensations of his chest lifting, his back spreading, and his traps, shoulders and arms pumping huge was just more than he could take... <br /> <br /> &quot;OH YEAHHHHH!&quot; cried Curtis.<br /> <br /> One by one, the stitches holding his shirt together began to give way. A button popped off here, a seam over there, a hole ripped down the back. His shirt screamed out in agony as it started shredding from the inside. This was perfect. Curtis was now becoming the object of his dreams. His biceps were now as big as some men's legs. How much bigger could he grow? <br /> <br /> &quot;C'mon, show me how big! &quot; thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> With a vengeance, his mountainous pecs surged up ominously below his chin. His glorious shoulders and traps ruptured the sleeves, splitting them with a sickening rip. Curtis stared at his mounding biceps, savouring the straining sounds of the fabric as his developing muscles mercilessly blasted through the sleeves. Curtis' triceps hung like juicy slabs of meat, popping the remaining threads that encircled his monstrous appendages. Lifting his arms above his head, Curtis flexed them in a typical bodybuilder pose. <br /> <br /> Slowly, Curtis felt his feet being crushed by his shoes. He strained over his colossal chest, just in time to see the stitching around his sneakers tear apart. The laces snapped one by one, quickly followed by the bursting of his white socks – revealing a pair of beautifully muscular, bare feet. Raising his head to the ceiling, Curtis let out loud of roar of ecstasy! <br /> <br /> Suddenly, his attention was grabbed by a creaking sound from his legs. Curtis looked down to see his legs about to erupt from his jeans. The rivets started to pop off like small bullets as his terrifying quad development now reached the bursting-point. His thighs and calves bulged sadistically, splitting the seams lengthwise, prying open the skin-tight jeans. Indeed, his legs seemed liked animals themselves, annihilating every trace of blue that tried to cover their stunning magnificence. Ragged strands of denim flew up into his face as his legs grew and grew. With a loud crack, the backside split open to expose his boxer shorts. <br /> <br /> Curtis felt his hideously hulking traps within an inch of his ears now. The gargantuan mass of his chest obliterated the view of his feet, even when bending over. His Herculean arms hung at what seemed like forty-five degree angles from <br /> his fantastic lat spread. <br /> <br /> Curtis's boxer shorts were the last to go, contorted beyond recognition between his Olympian abs and the tops of his luscious thighs. The elastic was stretched to the absolute limit, and refused to give anymore. With a painful snap, they relinquished to Curtis's overripe behind. <br /> <br /> “Oh My God!” squealed Sarah, in a mixture of terror and excitement.<br /> <br /> “Yes, I suppose I am!” bellowed Curtis in a voice many times deeper than his old one.<br /> Curtis rubbed his huge hands over his muscular body – feeling the raw power locked inside his impressive physique. This was magic! This was perfect!<br /> <br /> Suddenly, Curtis felt the cold floor of the room drop away from his feet. He looked down to see that he was floating above the ground.<br /> <br /> “Hey, cut that out!” squealed Sarah, fearfully.<br /> <br /> “I’m not doing anything!” boomed Curtis, feeling unnerved. “No Mr Universe’s I know can fly!” <br /> <br /> “Did you ask to be superman?” asked Sarah, still not quite sure of her own sense of reality anymore. What had started as a semi-prank had become all too real. Slowly, Curtis floated to the ceiling. Strange lights were flickering around him. Dancing like fairies.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I feel strange – even more than before!” moaned Curtis as the lights grew even brighter. He crawled his way across the ceiling towards the window – desperately trying to open the latches.<br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Sarah. “You can’t go out there, you’re naked!”<br /> <br /> “M-must get OUT!” roared Curtis, his eye’s burning red.<br /> <br /> Sarah stared in shock as the lights began to prick in and out of Curtis’ skin, causing it to blotch and swell. He just managed to open the latches before his once mighty body became too fat and flabby to fit through.<br /> <br /> “NNNOOOO!” shrieked Curtis as he watched his all to brief period as a real hunk disappear. He was now surrounded by a spinning spiral of light, that pulled at his sides – causing them to balloon outwards and glow<br /> <br /> Rushing after him, Sarah looked out of the window to see Curtis still rising upwards and outwards, until he looked like a glowing zeppelin in the afternoon sky. Straining hard against the noise of the traffic, she could just make out the strangled sound of <br /> “I love you!”<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to drift away, becoming nothing more than a bright spot on the horizon. Then nothing.<br /> <br /> Sarah was alone in the house, with an empty bottle of Dream Maker potion on the table. Distraught, she picked up the bottle and read the label. In very small print below the main text, there was a message that read:<br /> <br /> WARNING: Be specific for what you wish for. Once made, there is no going back!<br /> <br /> “Oh Curtis.....” sobbed Sarah as she dropped the bottle onto the ground.<br /> <br /> That night, the news reporter stopped his scheduled item to bring a sudden newsflash. Astronomers at the Isaac Newton Observatory in the Canaries have just reporter a previously undiscovered comet, speeding towards the outer solar system. Where it has come from remained a mystery. Perhaps it had been obscured by the Sun on a strange orbit. It had been name Vorspiel 234 after the German astronomer who had spotted it.<br /> <br /> Sarah hugged a cushion, as a tear rolled down her cheek. Curtis truly had become a Man of the Universe.<br /> <br /> THE END!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Degree_In_Lycanthropy&diff=9397 2008-12-04T20:32:49Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Lycanthrope]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> Curtis nestled under a large lavender bush, licking the dried blood and dirt from the cuts on his body. He couldn’t clear his mind. He didn’t know where he was, even who he was. This was the seventy-second time this had happened. Three times every month he would lose consciousness and wreak his room. Perhaps he should stop drinking dog-bites or pan-galactic-gargle-blasters at the student's union.<br /> <br /> It took him a few hours to regain his composure. He still couldn’t recollect what had happened to him, but he knew he must find his girlfriend, Sarah. What was he to do? He was naked, miles from his flat, in broad daylight. To his great delight Curtis saw a skip, full of rubbish. Surely there must be something wearable in there, but all he could find was an old dust sheet.<br /> <br /> “It’ll have to do.” thought Curtis. Grabbing the sheet, Curtis ran towards the nearest phone box. He passed several people as he went. Two old ladies pointed and laughed, whilst several students started shouting abuse. This was awful, if only he could contact Sarah, she could help him - but what would he tell her? <br /> <br /> Arriving at the telephone box, Curtis was dismayed to see it occupied. What was worse was that it was by several school girls. Should he hide and wait, or stroll nonchalantly up as if nothing was amiss. Cowardice prevailed, but only too late. They had seen him, and had bundled out of phone box in a mixture of screaming and hysterical laughter.<br /> <br /> “It’s easy. I can explain.... I was at a Stag Party” cried Curtis, but they would have none of it. Then one of them grabbed the corner of the dust sheet and pulled it from him. In a twist he was back in the nude, in front of about a dozen people.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” called an old man. <br /> <br /> “Revolting!” cried another.<br /> <br /> “He must be one of those pervy sodo-masacisms! Look at those cuts on his body” bellowed an ignorant unshaven man. Curtis wanted the ground to swallow him up, but he gritted his teeth, and stepped into the phone box. Not only did it give him some privacy, it also shielded him from the wind. It was autumn, and Curtis was freezing.<br /> <br /> <br /> Sarah was very excited. Tonight here favourite band was playing live at University, and her boyfriend Curtis had managed to get the last two tickets. What a sweetie he had been to her over the last few weeks since they had met. She hadn’t had to pay for anything whenever they went anywhere, and he always remembered to be the perfect gentleman. <br /> <br /> It was late afternoon, and Sarah marched up to Curtis’s door, and knocked loudly. There was no reply. She tried the handle, but it was locked. She called out but there was nothing.<br /> <br /> “He can’t be out, as we have to leave soon. Perhaps he’s ill? I haven’t seen him today or last night.” she thought.<br /> <br /> Sarah had her own key to Curtis’s room, so she opened the door. Her jaw dropped!<br /> <br /> All the furniture had been turned upside down. Sheets were torn, cups and glasses were smashed, and expensive text books ripped to shreds. The walls were caked in unrecognisable red and brown muck. In the middle of all this destruction was a pile of torn clothes - but no Curtis.<br /> <br /> She raced downstairs to ring for the police. Just as she replaced the receiver, it rang again. Sarah picked up the phone, and accepted the reversed call. <br /> <br /> “Curtis, its you! I’ve been so worried, where have you been?”<br /> <br /> “Can’t speak now. Come to the park, and meet me behind the fountain. Bring me some clothes as well please.” gabbled Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Curtis! What’s the matter with you?”<br /> <br /> “Got to go - bye.” <br /> <br /> The phone went dead! <br /> <br /> Curtis had seen twenty enormous rugby players striding down the road from the Leisure Centre towards him, being led by one of the school girls. Their scowling faces were redder than their scarlet shirts. No doubt she had told him that some dirty, naked pervert had tried to attack her.<br /> <br /> “Oh hell!” yelped Curtis, and in a flash he was off down the road in front of all the evening rush hour traffic. One bloke even leant out of his window and shouted “Good on’ya mate!”<br /> <br /> Curtis tried to hide his body as best he could, but there was little an empty packet of crisps could accomplish. He knew he must get to the park. At least there would be plenty of bushes to hide in until Sarah arrived. To his surprise it took him only a few minutes to get there. He found that running in bare feet was quicker than with wearing shoes, albeit less comfortable.<br /> <br /> <br /> Sarah couldn’t take it all in at first, but dutifully did what Curtis asked. Making her way swiftly to the park, she waited by the fountain.<br /> <br /> “Psst!” called Curtis. Sarah spun round to see her beloved boyfriend, ankle deep in mud, covered in scratches, hair all mated, shivering excessively - with only a crisp packet for honour.<br /> <br /> “What the f...!” exclaimed Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Can I have my clothes please?” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” retorted Sarah abruptly.<br /> <br /> “Stop messing around, I’m freezing!” said Curtis angrily.<br /> <br /> “All right then,” conceded Sarah, “But I still want to know. Was it the lads’ party last night?”<br /> <br /> “No.”<br /> <br /> “Please, don’t tell me it’s another woman.” said Sarah nervously.<br /> <br /> “Never!” replied Curtis firmly, “But if you want to know what happened to me. I will tell only if you promise to believe me.”<br /> <br /> “I will, I will - just tell me!” shouted Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Last night I had one of my funny turns. I’ve been getting them for a couple of years now - but recently they’ve got really bad. It happens a few times every month, and I think I know why now!”<br /> <br /> “For Heaven’s sake... TELL ME!” screamed Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Sarah... I think I turn into a werewolf.” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> There was a hushed silence. Sarah looked at Curtis quizzically and he started to get dressed.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued ,“My mind just flips, and everything goes red. I must have trashed my place pretty bad, just look at my body”. He showed Sarah the huge lacerations all over his arms, legs and back.<br /> <br /> “I thought there had been a break in. I thought you had been kidnapped or worse.” spluttered Sarah.<br /> <br /> “I doubt it” replied Curtis, “&quot;I'd probably have torn the intruder's throat out last night.&quot; <br /> <br /> Curtis smirked at his words, but Sarah looked slightly frightened.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry pet. I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.” said Curtis sweetly. “If your worried, I’ll go and see the doctor.”<br /> <br /> “I would like that.” said Sarah. “I don't think it's possible, but if you say it’s true - then that’s good enough for me.”<br /> <br /> “Thanks honey.” replied Curtis <br /> <br /> “I suppose tonight’s off then.” sighed Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Em, but I’ve only had the first of my three bad days. You go without me.”<br /> <br /> “No. I want to stay with you. I want to see the real reason behind your problem. Perhaps your epileptic?” said Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps..” replied Curtis, unconvinced.<br /> <br /> <br /> That night, Curtis stayed with Sarah. For a time he sat on the floor, just looking at her combing her long golden hair. It would shine so beautifully in the moonlight. How he loved her. Even though he had told her such a ridiculous story, she had not questioned him. For all she knew he could have been with another woman, and got beaten up by her husband. Then Curtis shook his head. He shouldn’t be there. What would happen to Sarah if he changed? Could he guarantee Sarah’s safety? Just as he thought that, he felt his clothes begin to tighten.<br /> <br /> “Give me a cuddle” giggled Sarah, “And turn the light off as you go. The moon’s bright so you shouldn’t stub your toe.” <br /> <br /> Curtis said nothing.<br /> <br /> He climbed into bed, and pressed up against her. Sarah sensed that something didn’t feel right. Was the bed sagging more than usual? Was Curtis putting on weight? And she was sure he wasn’t that hairy-chested........<br /> <br /> <br /> Early the next morning, Sarah sat motionless on the bed, looking at Curtis next to her. “I understand now” she said quietly. “You poor thing.”<br /> <br /> Curtis said nothing, but growled quietly to himself as Sarah stroked his muzzle. The fur was soft and shiny, and Curtis cold wet nose glistened in the lamp light.<br /> <br /> “What can we do? There must be someone who can help you?”<br /> <br /> “What does it matter now?” growled Curtis. “I thought this kind of thing only happened in movies. Not in real life. I must have done something pretty bad to deserve this?”<br /> <br /> “You don’t know that. It might be hereditary or something else. How do we know?”<br /> <br /> “What am I going to do? It’ll soon be day light and I’m still like this!” he cried, holding up a pair of hairy paws to Sarah.<br /> <br /> “What’s worse, we’ve got our seminar today as well.” replied Sarah.<br /> <br /> “I can’t miss another lesson, but I can’t go like this either.” <br /> <br /> “Can’t you get dressed, and bandage your hands and face, and say you’ve got a nasty rash?” asked Sarah, rather timidly. Curtis growled again, and then said “None of my clothes will fit me now. Its hopeless!” Curtis put his paws up to his muzzle, and whined like a lost puppy.<br /> <br /> “Wait a minute, I’ve got a long cape and shawl. Perhaps you could put that on. Sure, it’ll look weird, but you can make up some excuse. At least your voice still sounds human, albeit one with a sore throat.” And with that Sarah dived into her trunk and produced the long black garments. She had to stand on the bed to reach Curtis’s shoulders.<br /> <br /> “This will never work.” protested Curtis, but Sarah was insistent. When she had covered him in her cape, Sarah hugged him. She would still love him, whatever he looked like. In fact, she found him quite sexy.<br /> <br /> “Thanks Sal. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” whimpered Curtis. <br /> <br /> “What about breakfast?” asked Sarah, “I’ve got some bran flakes”.<br /> <br /> Curtis snarled, and rolled his huge yellow eyes at her. Fortunately, Sarah had some raw meat in her small fridge-freezer, and this she gave to Curtis. She was taken aback though when Curtis pushed the plate onto the floor, and ate his breakfast off the ground. <br /> <br /> “We better make a move” said Sarah, “It’ll be light soon and people will be about.”<br /> <br /> Curtis started to cough violently, and Sarah looked anxious.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry,” said Curtis when he had stopped coughing. “I think it was just hair-ball.”<br /> <br /> <br /> Under the cover of darkness, Sarah and Curtis sneaked into the library.<br /> <br /> “Morning.” said the librarian. Sarah and Curtis froze to the spot.<br /> <br /> “Urh... morning.” replied Curtis. The old man on the desk didn’t look up from his newspaper, and the odd couple continued into the economics section. No one ever went there, and it was next to the emergency exit that lead to their department.<br /> <br /> They got into their lesson early, and sat at the back. After an hour or so, the other students filed in. Most were either half-asleep or hungover, and none questioned the giant cloaked figure sitting next to little Sarah. The lecturer was too interested in what he had to say to notice. To Curtis and Sarah, the lesson seemed to drag on for hours. <br /> <br /> “What’s that smell?” asked Sarah quietly.<br /> <br /> “It’s me” said Curtis sheepishly. “When I’m stressed, I sweat like a...”<br /> <br /> “Werewolf?” interrupted Sarah.<br /> <br /> They both chuckled. <br /> <br /> The lesson eventually ended about lunch time. Sarah and Curtis waited for everyone to leave before they made their move.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Get back to my flat without being noticed.” said Sarah calmly.<br /> <br /> “That’s not going to be easy at midday.” replied Curtis. The two got up, and started down the long, crowded corridor to the exit. Once they were out in the open, it wouldn’t be too bad.<br /> <br /> “Hey Sarah. Whose your new bloke?” called out a girl from her hockey club, “Glad to see you dumped that wimp Curtis”<br /> <br /> Sarah gave the girl a cold stare, but Curtis just kept walking. They had almost made it to the door when the girl heard Curtis’s claws scraping on the linoleum floor. Sarah did as well, and looked down to see the glint of the sharp talon protruding from under the cloak. What was worse, several other people had now seen it as well.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Who the hell are you?” called the girl. <br /> <br /> “We’d better run.” said Sarah, and they bolted for the door. The black cape got caught on the handle, and fell to the ground. Curtis was left in full, hairy view.<br /> <br /> The corridor was suddenly full of screams, shouts and fainting women - but Curtis and Sarah didn’t stay to see what happened.<br /> <br /> “We can't go back to either flat now!” <br /> <br /> “Get on my back!” yelled Curtis, and Sarah scrambled up. <br /> <br /> Sarah clung on for dear life as Curtis started running on all fours towards the woods. The sounds of pursuit died away. Eventually, Curtis stopped and Sarah got off.<br /> <br /> <br /> “I must go away.” said Curtis, “If I stay here we’ll both become part of some freak show or government investigation.”<br /> <br /> “I’m not leaving you.” cried Sarah.<br /> <br /> “You must, it’s the only way.” sobbed Curtis<br /> <br /> “Then I’m coming with you” she protested.<br /> <br /> “No baby, you are human - I’m not. I must go.” said Curtis. The last thing in the World he wanted was to give her up, but he also wanted what was best for her. <br /> <br /> Sarah stood for a moment thinking, and then said “I could become a werewolf too.”<br /> <br /> “How?”<br /> <br /> “If you bite me, that should work.” <br /> <br /> “I can’t. You’ve got so much to look forward to. I would probably fail my exams anyway - but your a model student.” <br /> <br /> “I don’t care” replied Sarah, “All I want is you.”<br /> <br /> “I won’t bite you anyway.” said Curtis firmly.<br /> <br /> “You don’t have to.” replied Sarah, and she produced a small penknife from her pocket and before Curtis stop her - slashed her wrist. Blood poured from the wound.<br /> <br /> “You must lick the wound, or I will bleed to death. Werewolves can recover from wounds like this - humans can’t” she said faintly. Curtis now had no choice. He padded over to her and licked her wrist. He then kissed her on the lips. It worked. Sarah suddenly sat up, and then fell forward onto all fours. Her long hair then started to spread all over her body. <br /> Once the transformation had finished, Curtis growled “We had better go now” and they ran off into woods together.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Clover_Hill&diff=9396 2008-12-04T20:32:08Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Animal]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> Hi, my name’s Curtis. At least it used to be my name. It all happened a month ago. It was a beautiful day, and as a keen photography student I wanted to get some pictures of the local countryside for my class that evening. Near where I used to live is a rolling green piece of high ground, called Clover Hill. On that day I set off to climb and photograph the beauty close up. The TV had forecast rain later that day, so I dressed for all eventualities; jeans, sneakers, t-shirt, sweatshirt etc, and camera around my neck.<br /> <br /> I huffed my way up to Clover Hill. It took longer than I thought. My calves were screaming in pain from years of teenage lethargy, but finally at quarter past twelve, I reached the summit. Good thing too, because just as the TV had predicted, the heavens seemed to open up. The rain poured down heavily and I ducked into a rocky alcove for some shelter.<br /> <br /> I marveled in wide eyed wonder... It was a beautiful vantage point up there! I could see the green, lush valley far below, covered in mist from the ongoing downpour. Puffed from my climb, I decided to sit down on a smooth, flat granite cropping just inside the mouth of the cave and take in the view while waiting for the rain to stop. The view looked so inviting...as if the green meadows were made for running and rolling around in clover….<br /> <br /> A clap of thunder brought me out of this reverie. I glanced down at my watch and was shocked to see that it was 3:20! Had I been looking at this picturesque scene for THAT long? The afternoon sun was nowhere to be seen behind the gray clouds, but I could tell the day was quickly draining away. The rain showed no sign of slacking, but I didn't worry about that... I sprang up from my seat and began making my way to the craggy opening...when suddenly an angry thunderclap reverberated through the cavern, pricking my eyes in white, hot light. Dazed, my foot slipped on a wet outcropping of stones. I felt my ankle wrench, sending shooting pains up my right side. Clawing desperately for a handhold, but finding none... my fingers skittered over the smooth stony surface of the cave wall until my head SMACKED against the very same rock seat I was using just a moment ago. I blinked once and found myself totally stretched out on the pebbled ground of the cave. I blinked again and the world swimmed out of focus...head throbbing...a warm trickle of blood on my shoulder, a dull ache in my right ankle. By the time my mind could comprehend what happened, my eyelids fluttered into unconsciousness...<br /> <br /> When I awoke the sun was high overhead. Birds glided lazily across the blue sky. I sat up slowly, conscious of my throbbing head. My foot was no longer painful, but felt extremely heavy and awkward beneath me. The air around me buzzed with life. The whirr of the flies around my head, even the smell of the clover in the valley below, all assaulted my senses, reviving me as nothing else could. Despite my accident I felt alive and anxious to explore. I lifted my hand to my still painful head...and almost knocked myself out again. <br /> <br /> Confused and a bit disoriented, I lowered my hand to eye level and discovered that my fingers had congealed into a single unit, shortened and become covered with a thick layer of rock-hard nail-like substance. What I saw now was an almost cloven hoof-like appendage where my hand had been. I was very concerned and decided I must get home quickly. I staggered awkwardly to the outside of the small rocky cave. Once I reached the outside, the beauty of the now rain-washed valley struck me with such force that I thought of nothing else than climbing down and entering the paradise below. It was hard to maneuver down the rocky slope. My legs seemed to be unsteady and felt as if I would fall, although my feet had never felt more sure beneath me. Only partway down the hill, I tripped and lost my balance. I landed with my strange new hands and discovered that I could make better headway walking on all fours. That was strange. My broken camera dangled between my forearms, which seemed to have grown and were filling my sleeves more fully than before. Finding my balance I hurried to the valley bottom, imagining the feel and taste of the clover.<br /> <br /> I bounded down into the valley bottom, desperate to taste the wonderful clover. I was now only half-surprised to find walking on all fours easier. My hands, now hooves, felt really comfortable on the uneven ground. The same could not be said of my feet. My sneakers felt uncomfortably tight. My jeans and top felt tight too.<br /> <br /> I lowered my head to munch on the cool, refreshing clover. I didn’t care about getting home now. I just wanted to eat the clover. I ate and ate, far more than I could normally cram into my stomach. The weather was quite pleasant now, and I craned my head up in the cool breeze. <br /> <br /> I continued to eat and eat. My belt was incredibly tight by now, and my clothes began to fit more snugly around my torso and legs. Initially I worried about the growing pressure. What fate awaited me now?<br /> <br /> I shut my eyes and moaned. My mind was full of new sensations flowing through me. I licked my lips in anticipation. The animal urge was growing in me, pulsing through my veins. Every mouthful, every heart beat, every breath brought more growth, more pressure, more muscle, more pleasure and now …. more hair! Downy white and brown hair erupted all over my expanding body, which was swelling like a balloon. It was pulling my hooded blue sweatshirt snugly under my arms and around my chest. The collar started to choke me a bit.<br /> <br /> My massive growing thighs and buttocks were cramming my blue jeans like a second skin, whilst my sneakers began to groan as my feet fused into hooves. Before long the stitching and laces had burst allowing my feet to finish their transformation.<br /> <br /> The pain increased as I ate and grew. I could feel my clothes pull even tighter about me. How much longer would they hold out? My astonishing muscle growth began to accelerate, causing the fabric of my clothes to creak and groan in agony. I instinctively put my hands up to my collar to pull it wider to allow my neck room to grow, but my hands were already hard and hoof-like. They could not grip at all now, and I settled back to all fours to await events as my body continued to swell. The sweatshirt stitching under my arms began to give way very slowly stitch by stitch. Pop, pop, pop, pop.<br /> <br /> My metamorphosis was beautiful and slow. New muscles and cow-hair erupted all over my expanding frame. The mighty growth was going too fast for the exhausted stitching to keep up and cotton fabric itself splintered and exploded off my upper body in a shower of blue rags. This latest surge of growth carried on down my body to my thighs and buttocks. With a slow, delicious cracking sound – my huge bovine muscles began to prise apart the blue denim of my jeans, inch by inch running down each leg. With a sudden boom, the jeans flew to the ground in a crumpled heap of rags.<br /> <br /> I swished my long rope-like tail in the breeze, and carried on with my meal of clover. Yum yum! Mooooo!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Claw_Hill&diff=9395 2008-12-04T20:31:21Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]] [[Category:Winds of Change]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion| user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> “Grrrr... What time is it?” I mumbled, wiping the sleep from my eyes.<br /> <br /> The alarm clock said 9.00 AM precisely, not 8.00 as I had hoped. <br /> <br /> Easing my aching body to an semi-upright position, I collected my thoughts. <br /> <br /> “Damn, I’m late again. Must get that clock fixed.” I swore under my breath. This was the third Monday in a row I was late for school. My form tutor was sure to put me on detention after this.<br /> <br /> I scrambled out of bed, and plodded to the bathroom. Mum was already at work, and my kid brother Jason was still in bed. He had the flu, and was not going to school today. <br /> <br /> “Lucky sod!” I thought. <br /> <br /> Once in the bathroom, I stripped off my t-shirt and boxers, and turned on the shower. Once the temperature was a nice luke-warm, I stepped in. The water and soap dribbled over my fairly scrawny body. I looked down at the white sticks that were my legs. <br /> <br /> “Not really rugby player legs were they” I thought sadly to myself. I was nearly fifteen, but had only just experienced my voice breaking. All the other boys in my class were ahead of me in that, but now I was catching them up. Jenny, my former and only girlfriend, had tried to boost my confidence by saying that I looked like an English Brad Renfro.<br /> <br /> “Who’s Brad Renfro?” I thought.<br /> <br /> I turned the shower off, and dried myself. I was in no particular hurry. If I was going to be late for school, I might as well be really late. I plodded back to my room, and sat down on my bed. I glanced out of the window. It was early June, but the great British weather had done it again. Clouds loomed ominously on the horizon, and there was a definite chill in the air. Still cursing my defective alarm clock, I got dressed. My school did not enforce the wearing of a uniform, which did allow some self-expression from some of the other pupils. All it achieved for me was having a further source of taunting. I never had the right designer label, or the smartest cut of trouser. We hadn’t much money. Dad had left us when I was only nine – and Mum worked hard to keep Jason and I in the style to which we had become accustomed.<br /> <br /> I rummaged through my wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of blue jeans. Turning back to the window, the approaching rain clouds persuaded to wear my denim jacket in addition to my favourite t-shirt (the one with a picture of a wolf on it).<br /> <br /> Tip-toeing past Jason room, trying not to wake him, I made my way to the door. Putting on my sneakers, and picking up my backpack – I set out. I lived a good distance from the school, nearly two miles. I had to cross a small area of open space between my village and the main town. I liked this walk. It gave me time to ponder the meaning of universe, and our place within it. Halfway along the path, there was another track leading up to a craggy tor. This local landmark was Claw Hill, only about 800 feet high, so not a mountain – but the only high-point for miles around. I had always wanted to climb to the summit, but despite having lived here for most of my life, I had never gotten around to fulfilling this pledge.<br /> <br /> I looked at my watch. 9.25 glared back at me. My first lesson would nearly be over already. I sighed. What was the point? I might as well play ill like Jason, and have a day to myself. Then a thought hit me. It seemed like a twinge of fate. Why not explore Claw Hill? I had my pack lunch my Mum had made before she had left this morning – so I wouldn’t be hungry.<br /> <br /> “Stuff school!” I cackled out loud. Turning on my heels, and ventured along the twisting path that led up to Claw Hill. The going was harder than I expected. I wasn’t fit – or at least not as fit as I thought I was. I was only about halfway up when I noticed the storm clouds growing darker, and bigger. I hesitated. Only last night there had been a documentary on BBC 2 about the dangers of lightning. Heading to the top of an exposed hill in the middle of a thunderstorm was not a wise idea. Then it started to rain.<br /> <br /> “Blast!” I moaned. There was very little cover to be found, but I managed to squeeze behind some rocks that almost made a natural stone arch. I waited for the rain to let up, but it didn’t. With nothing much else to do, I opened my lunchbox and took a large bite out of my ham sandwich. <br /> <br /> “Yuuuuuuukkkkk!” I bawled. My Mum had put English mustard all over it. I spat it out, and wiped my mouth. <br /> <br /> “Geeez! I’ll just have to go hungry.” I thought. I sat there for about another ten minutes, before boredom got the better of me. I decided to go home, at least there was warm. I stood up quickly, preparing to dash through rain – but I forgot that I was still under the stone arch.<br /> <br /> Thwack!<br /> <br /> I hit my head on the rocky roof, and fell down. I was out cold.<br /> <br /> Feeling groggy, and with a splitting headache – I eventually came round. <br /> <br /> “What a prat you are....” I sighed. Only I, Curtis The Mighty, could knock himself unconscious in the pouring rain. I glanced down a my watch. 12.57 it showed.<br /> <br /> “Shit! Now I’m halfway through my day.” <br /> <br /> I got up, slowly, and crept out of the archway. The rain had stopped, and the sun was shining. <br /> <br /> “Ahhhh, this is not too bad. Perhaps I will make it up the hill after all.” I mused.<br /> <br /> I started along the path, when I suddenly felt dizzy.<br /> <br /> “Whoa, I feel strange” came a voice from inside my head. “Must have hit my head pretty bad.” I reached up to rub the bruise on my head, but my hair came off in my hands. <br /> <br /> “Yikes!” <br /> <br /> The blond strands that once flopped over my cranium were falling down like confetti onto the grassy hillside. I lifted my hands again to see what had happened. Was it the shock of the injury. Suddenly my heart missed a beat. I held my hands in front of me. There was fur on the backs. Brown, matted fur.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!”<br /> <br /> The fur was growing before my very eyes. It was spreading up my arms. It tickled as it went, but I was too shocked to laugh. My face felt funny, all tingly. I could hear cracking sounds from my jaw, and I see some sort of elongation of my nose. It was pushing forward between my eyes, becoming a muzzle. My whole body felt like it was immersed in warm treacle. <br /> <br /> “Help me!” I whaled, but no one could hear me. I stumbled along the path, clutching my swelling face. What was happening to me? Was I changing into an animal? No, that was silly. I must still be unconscious. Yes, that was it – I was dreaming. <br /> <br /> “Argh!” pain shot through my hands. Looking down, I saw the my fingernails elongate, and harden into what looked like....... no .......they were claws.<br /> <br /> “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit” I kept muttering, starting to hyperventilate.<br /> <br /> I was nearly at the point where the main path down the hill began, when I felt another surge of energy flow through my body. I winced in pain, clutching at my stomach. I could also feel the fur spreading over my back and down my legs. It pushed up around my t-shirt collar, and spread around my face.<br /> <br /> I took another step, and then tumbled over. My feet were no longer responding to my brain. I yelped as my shoes began feel like they were crushing my feet. The pain grew until I heard a loud ripping noise, and saw my sneakers split open. Poking through were a pair of clawed feet. No, they were not feet. They were paws.<br /> <br /> “Stay calm Curtis, you're not a kid. Don’t panic!” That was easy to think in theory.<br /> <br /> I tried to stand up, but could only managed to crouch on all fours. The tingling sensations flowed up and down my body. The fur was growing thicker and thicker. My face contorted more and more. I could feel sharp canines pushing down in my mouth. <br /> <br /> “Ouch!” I had bitten my tongue.<br /> <br /> My jeans began to feel uncomfortably tight. I put a paw down onto my thigh, feeling new sets of muscles bubble up under the thick denim. The strange pulses flowed up my arms as well. They swelled and twisted, totally filling the sleeves of my jacket.<br /> <br /> Cracking sounds came from my back. My shoulder blades were spreading, straining the back of my jacket. A lump was also growing up behind my collar. My whole body was growing at an alarming rate, becoming tremendously muscled – albeit furry.<br /> <br /> “W-hats hhhh-appening?” I asked to some unknown force.<br /> <br /> I twisted my head around to watch the strange transformation my body was undergoing. There was another uncomfortable surge of pain in my buttocks. I peered as best I could towards my expanding rear. My arse looked like two huge beach balls stuffed inside a pair of near-bursting blue jeans. As I watched, a third smaller bulge appeared between, and slightly above the other two. As I panicked, it twitched.<br /> <br /> “Shit! I’ve got a tail!” <br /> <br /> It was at this point that the transformation began to fascinate me. My fear was subsiding, being replaced by a strange level of calmness for someone turning into an animal. I never liked my scrawny human body anyway. <br /> <br /> My stomach barrelled outwards. I could hear my leather belt groan under the pressure. <br /> <br /> Kaplunk!<br /> <br /> The buckle burst open, allowing my new furry gut to swell larger and larger. My wolf t-shirt was pulled very tightly. I sat back on my haunches, and looked at my expanding chest. With a mighty crack, my t-shirt split right up the middle. Where there had once been the picture of a grey wolf, there was now a mass of brown fur. <br /> <br /> My fur! <br /> <br /> My arms pushed against my sides, and my shoulders broadened. The seams of my jacket popped as my new furry shoulders forced their way through the torn fabric.<br /> I let out a sigh of relief as I flexed my shoulders, splitting my jacket clean down the back. My arms continued to bulge, the sleeves fighting to contain them. My watch strap snapped under the strain. Finally I could stand the pressure no longer. I flexed my paws up to my shoulders. The sleeves tore with a pleasing, prolonged rrrrriiiiiipppp! <br /> <br /> I arched my back, trying to ease the pain in my butt. I could feel my jeans getting tighter and tighter. I dared to look down at my legs. My calves and thighs were bulging at tremendous speed. My buttocks were also approaching twice their human size.<br /> <br /> “Aaarrgh!” I cried, or growled to be more correct. I tried to get to my feet again, but I couldn’t move.<br /> <br /> There was a sound of ripping denim. The seams of my jeans were tearing down from the pockets. I growled to myself, wishing the change would end quickly. My thighs continued to grow as the jeans began splitting. Suddenly there was a loud pop, and the seat of my pants burst open, allowing my tail to wag in the fresh air. More tears opened up on my jeans. The fly-zip came away from the material with another satisfying rip! With one last heave, I stretched my legs – and my ruined jeans fell away.<br /> <br /> I was now completely naked, except for my layers of thick brown fur and a couple of blue strands of denim around my neck. Stunned, I did not know what to do next. What had happened? What was I? Who was I? Secretly I hoped that I might be a wolf. I have always fancied being a werewolf – now I had done it. Then again, perhaps not. I’ve never known a wolf to be as big as a bear. A bear! Oh, shit – I’m a bear!<br /> <br /> I sat on the hillside for what seemed like hours – trying to collect my thoughts. I finally decided that I must get home. <br /> <br /> I loped along the quiet roads. There seemed to be no one about. Phew! I could get home unseen. I was nearly at my house when I noticed a man, or what I thought was a man stumbling down my road. As he got closer, I could see that he too was undergoing a change. He had small horns, and the distinct appearance of a goat.<br /> <br /> He seemed not to notice me. Then I felt a strange feeling in my head. It was a voice, similar to mine – but very monotone. <br /> <br /> Prey! Eat! Prey! Eat!<br /> <br /> “Hey, get outta my head” I growled incomprehensibly.<br /> <br /> I did feel hungry. All I had eaten today was one mouthful of revolting ham and mustard sandwich. Whilst I fought with my sub-conscious, the goat-man had gone.<br /> <br /> “Has the whole World changed?” <br /> <br /> I lumbered up to my front door, and reached into my pocket for my keys.<br /> <br /> “Bummer!” My keys were still in my rags back on Claw Hill.<br /> <br /> I thumped on the door. No answer. I thumped again, splintering the wood.<br /> Still no answer. I was just about to strike a third time when the door swung open. There was Jason in his pyjamas, still totally human.<br /> <br /> He just stood in the doorway. His mouth open, his eyes filled with fear.<br /> <br /> “Mum! Bear! Mum – help!” shouted Jason, forgetting Mum was at work.<br /> <br /> “Jason, it’s me, Curtis” I growled in a deep voice not even vaguely similar to my old one.<br /> <br /> “Nnnn- nah!” Jason murmured, still looking like a frightened rabbit in the headlights of a speeding car.<br /> <br /> I hadn’t all day to explain. I pushed past him, and sat my huge furry butt on the bottom of the stairs.<br /> <br /> “It’s true Jason. It’s me. Somehow, I’ve changed. So have other people.”<br /> <br /> “C-ccurtis?! It is you....” whispered Jason. Jason was never fast for the penny to drop, but he seemed to recognise something about me. I assume it was my eyes. He was looking in awe at them. I turned around and looked in the hall mirror. I was a bear alright, a grizzly by the looks of things. However, my face was just about recognisable under all that fur and elongated muzzle.<br /> <br /> “Something strange has happened. I was walking over Claw Hill – and then this happened to me.” I explained. <br /> <br /> Jason, perhaps with strange innocence of youth – seemed not too phased by my explanation. Jason was only twelve, and perhaps hadn’t lost too much of his imagination.<br /> <br /> “Let’s turn on the television. I wonder how many have been affected?” I growled.<br /> <br /> Jason, regaining his composure – shrugged and said “Sure.”<br /> <br /> I fell back onto all fours, and walked towards the sitting room. It was then that I realised how huge I’d become. I couldn’t fit through the door. My butt was just too big.<br /> <br /> “I’ll stay here” I said, and reversed back into the hall. Jason, looking a little wearily at me now – walked in and turned on the TV. BBC1 was the only channel operating. It was a news report. The newsreader was some kind of dog-morph, interviewing a lizard. We managed to learn that the strange changes were happening across the World. Only children were unaffected.<br /> <br /> “That explains it.” as I turned, and gave Jason a look of envy (or as close to envy as a teenage grizzly bear could).<br /> <br /> The phone rang. Easing my bulk away from the door, I allowed Jason to pass. Coughing, for he still was unwell, he picked up the receiver.<br /> <br /> “Mum! What’s happened. Everybody has become animals. Curtis is a bear.”<br /> <br /> I could just hear the panicky voice on the other end of the phone.<br /> <br /> “No, Mum – I’m fine. Still me. All the children are!”<br /> <br /> More muffled sounds followed.<br /> <br /> “A lizard? Wow – have you got a tail?” <br /> <br /> “Tell her I’m okay.” I called. Jason nodded in acknowledgement – and he passed the message on.<br /> <br /> He put down the receiver.<br /> <br /> “Mum’s a lizard! Everyone at work has changed. Cooool!” Jason smirked.<br /> <br /> “Hey! It’s not funny.” I replied.<br /> <br /> “Yeah, well – hey man – can I have a ride on your back?” Jason asked.<br /> <br /> “Geez – okay then.” I replied. I was always having to do something to please my baby brother. I guess that this wasn’t to be any different.<br /> <br /> That was that!<br /> <br /> Gradually, the World began to come to terms with what happened. Everyone was some sort of creature – with no pattern to the changes. Parents could be a bird and a cat, and the child would be a dinosaur – YES, a dinosaur.<br /> <br /> No one changed until they were in their early teens – going through puberty (as if puberty hadn’t been bad enough before). Instead of acne, you got scales or fur.<br /> <br /> I had grown use to my new form. I enjoyed my new strength, as well as my improved sense of smell and hearing. Clothing was a bit more tricky. None of my old clothes even came near to fitting now. Mum bought me some Extra Large tracksuits, with holes cut in the seats to accommodate my tail. However, I tended to walk about naked. I had fur, so what did it matter. Nearly everyone else was naked to some degree.<br /> <br /> A year had passed since the change, and life in Britain was slowly beginning to return to some normality. All my class mates had changed. We now had everything from parrots to warthogs sitting behind rows of desks.<br /> <br /> It was now the week after Jason’s thirteenth birthday. He was looking much older now, and his voice had started to break. He still liked to tease me about my morph. <br /> <br /> “Hey, Yogi? Where’s Booboo?” and stuff like that.<br /> <br /> I ignored it mostly, as I knew it would be his turn soon.<br /> <br /> At supper, Jason continued to make sly remarks at me. I frowned, and let out a low growl. Just then, Jason reached up to his nose. It felt rough, and was getting longer. Before my eyes, it had become hard and shiny. A horn! A rhino horn!<br /> <br /> “Oh no!” squealed Jason. “I don’t want to be a rhino – I want to be a bird!”<br /> Jason jumped back from the dinner table, clutching his sides. His skin turned grey, and became pitted.<br /> <br /> “It’sssss your firsssst sssignssss dear. It’ll stop soon.” hissed Mother from the kitchen.<br /> <br /> “Wha – argh!” shouted Jason, as his legs ballooned – splitting his jeans.<br /> <br /> His whole body swayed, and then stopped changing.<br /> <br /> I grinned back at Jason. He too, grinned back at me. <br /> <br /> “Fancy an arm wrestle bro?”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Blade&diff=9394 2008-12-04T20:29:54Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Animal]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> Curtis arrived at his new house, trying to juggle his four suitcases. As he walked up the garden path, he was greeted by the sight of his grinning girlfriend, Sarah. She flung open the front door as soon as she saw Curtis arrive, and rushed towards him with her arms outstretched.<br /> <br /> &quot;I've missed you so much. How are you? Do you like the digs I've found? Let me help you with the cases. How was your journey?&quot; gabbled Sarah like an excited child, between a barrage of kisses.<br /> <br /> &quot;I've missed you too.&quot; replied Curtis softly. He leaned forward to kiss Sarah on the forehead, but she had already darted off into the house before they had connected.<br /> <br /> &quot;Do you want some grub? I'm making some sandwiches.&quot; called Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;Okay!&quot; shouted Curtis as he wandered around. Inside, the house was pleasantly decorated, if a little old-fashioned. Up the creaking stairs were the two bedrooms.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's got the other bedroom?&quot; called Curtis.<br /> <br /> &quot;What do you mean? There's one for you and one for me.&quot; came the reply. Curtis' heart sank. So she still wasn't ready for sharing a bed. Still, he had all term to change her mind.<br /> <br /> &quot;Here are your sarnies. I had to use that old envelope opener of yours to cut them.&quot; Curtis face stiffened. &quot;Don't use that for food. It's a family heirloom.&quot; he snapped.<br /> <br /> &quot;I'm sorry.&quot; she replied quietly. Curtis suddenly felt very guilty as he looked at the sheepish figure standing at the foot of the stairs, plate of sandwiches in hand.<br /> <br /> &quot;No, I'm sorry. Actually that knife gives me the creeps, but Granny insisted that I take it. She said it had saved my grandfather's honour once. I don't know what she means, but I've kept it all the same.&quot; said Curtis, as he brushed back Sarah's hair from across her face and then pressed her nose like a button to substitute as a punishment.<br /> <br /> &quot;It's time we made a move. We've got history in twenty minutes.&quot; said Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;You go, I'll be along in a minute.&quot; replied Curtis &quot;I've still got to unpack.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Okay, see you later. Don't be late.&quot; and Sarah scurried out the door. Curtis wandered back to his bedroom to finish his sandwiches. He wasn't bothered about punctuality - only fun. Just before he eventually left for his lesson, he dashed into the bathroom to draw a heart on the mirror in toothpaste, hoping that Sarah would see it when she got back.<br /> <br /> After their lesson, Curtis joined Sarah in the corridor.<br /> <br /> &quot;What do you fancy doing tonight?&quot; asked Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;I don't think I will. I've still got a lot of unpacking to do, and I'm a bit tired.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Would you mind if I went with the girls to the Union then? Only there's a new band playing tonight. And they're meant to be very good&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;No you go, I'll be fine.&quot; replied Curtis.<br /> <br /> That night, the house felt very empty once Sarah had left. Curtis settled down on his<br /> bed and shut his eyes, trying to blot out the rays of the full moon streaming through the curtain-less window. <br /> <br /> Blade tried to open the latches of the window, but his claws couldn't work the fiddly mechanism. Howling in anger, he pounded on the glass. Finally Blade leapt at the window. The double glazing shattered, and the beast was off into the night.<br /> <br /> It wasn't long before it had caught its first quarry. It had been too easy - food normally put up more of a fight than this. His claws could rip his prey to shreds in a flash. This small piece of meat was swallowed in one gulp. Easy kills were no challenge, and Blade was still hungry.<br /> <br /> Blade sat resting on his hind legs, and began to lick his fur. It had to be clean and shiny, otherwise he would be troubled with those fleas again - biting him while he was asleep.<br /> <br /> &quot;Where am I? &quot; thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> Blade didn't answer, but continued cleaning his coat.<br /> <br /> &quot;What am I doing? I must get back home.&quot;<br /> <br /> Blade's head sprang up. Someone was coming. He sniffed the air, but couldn't tell who it was.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's there? &quot; called a disembodied voice. <br /> <br /> Blade snarled. He felt threatened. What should he do? To run was weak. He must fight.<br /> <br /> &quot;It's Dave the security guard. I can smell his peanut sandwiches. &quot; thought Curtis. &quot;If only he would pass on.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Is anyone hurt? Can I help? &quot; called the kindly old man, as he flashed the beam of his torch about the bushes. Suddenly the guards torch shone on Blade, blinding him. Blade roared in anger, and leapt at the terrified guard.<br /> <br /> &quot;No! &quot; shouted Curtis, but he was too weak - and Blade was too strong. Curtis knew there was nothing he could do.<br /> <br /> &quot;TAYSTEEEEEE!&quot; growled Blade, as he picked pieces of chewed flesh out of his front teeth with his foreclaw. With a final howl, Blade stood up and ran into the night - looking for more prey.<br /> <br /> <br /> Next morning, Curtis managed to sneak back to his house without being seen. It was early, and most people were still in bed. He hadn't a key for the front door, so he darted around the back and climbed up the drainpipe to his open window. Broken glass lay everywhere, cutting Curtis' hands and feet.<br /> <br /> &quot;How am I going explain this, let alone pay for it! &quot; groaned Curtis to himself. What few articles of furniture he had were broken to pieces; the window was smashed and blood and mud littered the floor.<br /> <br /> &quot;Oh my God, suppose Sarah sees this!&quot; thought Curtis. He frantically began to tidy up, cramming the remains of his possessions into some black bags for the dustman to take. It was almost dawn, and Sarah would be awake soon.<br /> <br /> &quot;I must get rid of Blade. If this goes on someone will get killed!&quot; <br /> <br /> Then Curtis remembered the old security guard, and he sank to his knees. He was responsible. He began to cry. His tears turned the caked dirt on his face back into the red blood and mud it had been last night.<br /> <br /> <br /> Curtis left before Sarah awoke. He was sombre all day. He said nothing to anyone, least of all Sarah. He couldn't even look her in the eye. Fortunately today he had no actual lessons with her, and he managed to avoid her. Curtis hoped she hadn't noticed, but was almost certain she had.<br /> <br /> Late that afternoon, he returned to the house on his own. All day he had agonised over what he should do, and his lessons passed in a blur. In the last lecture of the day he had finally faced the inevitable. He had to protect others from Blade. Most of all, he had to protect Sarah. He returned to the house alone, and searched for the silver knife. Now he knew why his grandmother had given it to him. <br /> <br /> When he had found it, he hurried to his empty room. Curtis settled upon the floor, and reached across for a pad of paper and a pen. Resting it on his knee, he began to write. As he did, his eyes filled with old pain. <br /> <br /> <br /> :Dearest Sarah,<br /> :I don't know how to explain this to you or anyone, but I'll try. You must believe my words and my motives - and of my love for you.<br /> :You know I've never liked to talk about my childhood. I told you that my parents divorced when I was only nine. What I didn't tell you was that my father moved away, and my Mum had to work nights to afford the items that weren't covered by the maintenance payments. My little brother was only three, and I had had to look after him. Many nights I was left dealing with his bed-wetting, and had to cuddle him when he threw a tantrum. Even after being repeatedly bullied myself at school, no one ever hugged me.<br /> <br /> :I can't remember exactly when it first happened. There used to be a stretch of woodlands that backed onto my garden. I loved playing in the woods, exploring the nooks and crannies. It was my own little world - an escape from my real life. I wanted to live there permanently - to be one with the wilderness. At first this appeared to be no more than youthful exuberance.<br /> <br /> :On sunny days when no one was at home, I would creep out into the woods. I would instinctively run to the dark thicket at the far end, away from the houses. I felt so happy there, just playing by myself. After a while I would sit on the ground and just look up at the trees and the sky beyond. At first I felt relaxed and happy, but then the urge began to grow. I felt the need to do something - but what? On some occasions, the urge would be very strong - more sexual. I would strip off my clothes and roll around on the ground. I would be covered from head to toe in leaf mulch and dirt - but I didn't care. I had a shower when I got home, and no-one ever knew.<br /> <br /> :One day, when I was about thirteen, I went to the woods and something very strange happened. I changed. It was special, exciting. I seemed to hunch and grow. I had burst free from my humanity, and could roam free!<br /> <br /> :I awoke the next morning, naked and filthy, but contented. I sneaked home when no one was there, and got in using the spare key hidden under the mat. I was excited at the time. I prided myself with the idea that no one else at school could change into a werewolf!<br /> <br /> :This happened once a month for the next three years, and then several times a month after that. I could always feel it starting. The pulsing in my arm, the twitching muscles in my legs, the prickling on the back of my neck, the sharpness of my teeth. I can recall the image even now. I'm in bed, and the lights are off. I look down at my hands. In the moonlight I can see my nails beginning to grow, but then I remember nothing more until morning. When I awake, my room is a mess, the sheets are all in a pile on the floor and my pyjamas are torn to shreds. Thankfully my mother was always at work when it happened. What would she have thought? <br /> <br /> :That was just the start, now it's turned evil. Now it's awful! Last term they bulldozed down the woods and built a housing estate. That has made the dark power all the more suppressed, more potent, more sickening, more depraved, and more frequent. I can contain it no longer. Last night I killed someone. I no longer deserve to live.<br /> Goodbye Sarah. I hope you can forgive me. <br /> :No matter what, I will always love you.<br /> <br /> :Curtis<br /> <br /> As he finished, his tears dropped onto the paper, smudging his name.<br /> <br /> &quot;Best thing really&quot; thought Curtis. &quot;It would have been better if my whole life could be simply erased.&quot;<br /> <br /> He put down the paper, and picked up his Grandfather's knife. Just as he held it up to his heart, he began to waver as a million doubts flashed through his tortured mind.<br /> <br /> &quot;I don't want to die! What about Sarah? She'll be the one to find me! What's Mum going to think? Whose going to nag my kid brother to do his homework? This can't be the answer. Surely there's another way to stop Blade? There must be! &quot; <br /> <br /> Curtis arm began to go limp, and the knife dropped to the floor.<br /> <br /> &quot;I will go to the Police, and confess. At least in a secure mental hospital I will be safely locked away. &quot; <br /> <br /> Just then, Curtis heard the front door open.<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you there dear?&quot;<br /> <br /> It was Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;I'm so glad to be home. I've had an awful time. Where have you been all day? I've been trying to find you.&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis began to sob. Just moments earlier he was about to leave Sarah forever - now he had to face her.<br /> <br /> &quot;Did you hear about poor old Dave, the security guard?&quot; called Sarah. &quot;I'm scared. Some evil sicko cut him up. And what's more, I heard a window smash down our road last night - and something was outside my window. There's a huge paw print in the garden. I was terrified - I called to you but you didn't reply.&quot; <br /> <br /> There was a pause.<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you there Curtis?&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis desperately wanted to reply, to run downstairs and sweep Sarah up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be all right, but the sun was setting. Curtis was becoming hungry, and Blade was growing stronger. Curtis looked at his hands - fur was sprouting out of the skin. A change was coming!<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you in the bathroom Curtis?&quot; called Sarah, and Curtis heard the stairs creek.<br /> <br /> There was no time to think. Seizing the knife Curtis thrust the sharp salvation into his heart. The pain soared and then fell away. He could feel Blade scream as he screamed &quot;It's Over!&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis fell to the ground, and the knife clattered onto the floor.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Ant_Trouble&diff=9393 2008-12-04T20:25:19Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]] [[Category:White Lion]] [[Category:Animal]]<br /> {{byline|author=White Lion|user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> It was a sunny afternoon, and Curtis Brookes waited impatiently on the station platform, kicking stones into the rail gully to ease the boredom.<br /> <br /> “Where is the train? It was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” grumbled the impatient boy to himself. Every day he had to make this journey, and every time it seemed to get longer and more tedious.<br /> <br /> As he turned to walk back to the station to ask the ticket officer why the train was late, something caught his eye. Where the tarmac on the platform met the brick edging, there was a small pile of sandy soil, that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon sun.<br /> <br /> Curtis knelt down to have a closer look. There were small black shapes scurrying around the sand pile, carrying all manner of leaf fragments and strange egg-like spheres. Curtis knew immediately that it was only an ants’ nest, but something was odd about it. He could not be sure, but the ants were larger and more thickset than any he had seen in his garden.<br /> <br /> Curtis wanted to show someone, but all his friends caught a different train to him. They all lived in the town, but his parents had decided that the country air would do the family some good. To Curtis, all it meant was that he had a long, lonely journey to school every day.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to gaze at the strange ants, and poked at them with a stick. They ignored him, and carried on with their menial tasks. Frustrated by a lack of any reaction, Curtis raised his foot and slammed the sole of his shoe down upon the nest. He did this several times until all the ants above the ground were dead. With a glint of sadistic, childlike satisfaction Curtis turned and walked back to the middle of platform as his train home finally arrived. Sitting on the train, Curtis reached into his bag and started to read his comic. <br /> <br /> “Ouch! What the hell?” cried Curtis, grabbing his ankle. Pulling up the left leg of his trousers, Curtis saw one of the ants with its jaws embedded in his skin. He pulled it away, but the head stayed locked to his ankle. Using his fingernails, Curtis prised the small bead from it meal. A yellow ooze seeped from the wound, and Curtis winced in pain. <br /> <br /> “Ants don’t bite like that!” he thought, “I’ll get them back tomorrow!”<br /> <br /> That evening, Curtis settled down with his parents to watch the evening programmes. His ankle was still sore and red. Curtis pulled his socks up high, hoping to hide the swelling.<br /> <br /> “This is the Six o’clock News” said the announcer sternly. “The Head lines tonight!”<br /> <br /> After several worthy issues about World events and politics, a small feature came on about a Second World War chemical weapons' dump that had been discovered, and was leaking toxic chemicals into the ground.<br /> <br /> “That looks familiar?” thought Curtis. <br /> <br /> Suddenly the reporter said the name of the town “Wentfield Station!”<br /> <br /> “Yow, that’s my stop!” said Curtis to his parents, who were not really listening.<br /> <br /> “That’s nice” said Mum.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps you’ll be on TV?” said Dad.<br /> <br /> Curtis sat in silence. No one ever took any notice of him, not his parents, not his class mates, not even the ants - until tomorrow, when he was going to poison them.<br /> <br /> The next morning, Curtis sneaked into the garden before anyone was awake, and stole a tube of insect poison from the paint shed. Tucking it away in his bag, Curtis set off for school. On the train he planned how he was going to attack the ants. Like some teenage Napoleon, he devised his strategy. <br /> <br /> “First I’ll strike with powder. Then I’ll pick off any stragglers who try to escape, then I’ll...” thought Curtis. His ankle was still hurting, and was even more swollen than yesterday. it had been agony to put on his shoe.<br /> <br /> On the platform, Curtis waited for the other passengers to vacate the platform. Crossing over the footbridge to the platform with the ants, Curtis opened the tube of powder and sprinkled it over the rebuilt ant hill. It took a few seconds for the poison to work, but eventually the ants were slowing, and dying - dropping their bundles along their roots.<br /> <br /> “Ha ha, that’ll teach you to mess with Curtis Brookes the First!” shouted the delirious school boy.<br /> <br /> As the last word slipped from his mouth, Curtis heard a deep rumbling. It became louder and louder. Suddenly, the tarmac of the platform bulged upwards and split. Forcing its way through the ground was a giant ant. It was nothing like the puppet giant ants movie makers used in horror films. It was larger than a dog, and was reddy brown. Its snapping, slavering jaws were as big as a pair of garden sheers. It instinctively turned and faced Curtis. Lifting itself clear of the ground, it started to move towards him.<br /> <br /> Curtis was petrified, literally. He couldn’t move, and the ant came closer and closer. It was about to reach him when a train came rumbling through the station. It was one of the scheduled stoppers, but slowed down because of the red signal at the junction ahead. Seizing his chance, Curtis leapt onto the slow moving train and headed home.<br /> <br /> Curtis banged on the door. Mum opened it in a flurry, and Curtis fell into her arms.<br /> <br /> “Oh Mum, there was this giant ant and it chased me, and I couldn’t get away. I took some poison from the shed and I tried to kill them, but it came out of the ground, and I ran off and I’m sorry.....” gabbled Curtis, who then collapsed onto the floor.<br /> <br /> That evening, the doctor left Curtis’s side and spoke to his parents. <br /> <br /> “You say he’s been hallucinating.” said the Doctor.<br /> <br /> “Yes, he’s mentioned something about giant ants?” replied Dad.<br /> <br /> “That’s not good. You heard about that chemical leak in Wentfield. I’m concerned that young Curtis has been overcome with fumes - and may be suffering some of the affects. I would very much like to take into hospital tonight for observation. Just to be sure” said the doctor.<br /> <br /> “Well, whatever you think is best.” replied Mum, as she entered Curtis’s room. Curtis sat up, and looked at his Mum with frightened eyes. His mother told him of the doctor diagnosis.<br /> <br /> “But I did see a giant ant. I did!” protested Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Of course you did.” patronised Dad.<br /> <br /> “No one ever believes me.” sulked Curtis.<br /> <br /> Later that night, Curtis was in the hospital. His parents had said good night, and had left. Curtis was now alone in the room.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps I did dream it all?” thought Curtis as he flopped back onto his bed.<br /> <br /> As he lay there, there was a strange tingling sensation running throughout his body. He looked down at his hands - but were they hands? The fingers were elongating, pushing his nails outwards. He feet were also stretching and becoming insect-like. He reached up to his temple as two fibrous antennae broke through his skin.<br /> <br /> “I’m turning into an ant!” cried Curtis, but his voice only produced a squeak.<br /> Twisting on his bed, Curtis tried to bang on the wall, but he fell on the floor. An extra pair of arms tore through the side of his pyjamas, and his skin turned hard and brown.<br /> <br /> “Oh well,” thought Curtis. “On the bright side, they’ll have to believe me now!”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=I%27m_Going_Slightly_Mad&diff=9392 2008-12-04T20:24:30Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Story]][[Category:White Lion]]<br /> <br /> {{byline|author=White Lion| user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> It was Monday. The watery sunlight filtered through the blinds, hanging from the tatty window frame. <br /> <br /> BRIIIIIIIINNNNNG BRIIIING!<br /> <br /> Leo sprang up, wide awake. He always got up early, especially on a Monday. He was determined to secure his future for next year. Only one exam remained of his second year studies at Midshire University – and he had passed all the rest. This was the last hurdle - and then he would be into his finals; the youngest graduate the University had ever had. Now 18, he had started his degree two years early. Not considering himself a genius, nor a child prodigy when he was young, Leo still knew that his intellect was above average – well above.<br /> <br /> Striking the alarm clock, Leo manoeuvred his body around, neatly landing his socked feet into his slippers. Reaching for his dressing gown, he rose majestically and headed towards his bathroom (en suite of course). Admiring himself in the mirror, Leo carefully parted his dark brown hair with his forefinger, and stared at himself. He was pleased at the reflection. <br /> <br /> Having washed and groomed himself, Leo returned to his wardrobe. Idiosyncratic to some extent, Leo was what would be considered a goth, and a military enthusiast. His choice in clothes reflected this. He dressed in black boots, black jeans, black polo-neck sweatshirt, ex-army grey greatcoat, leather gloves and dark ray-bans. His course-mates jokingly nicknamed him Darth Vader and Terminator, which he actually quite liked. Even Mr Bad Guy was all right to some extent. <br /> <br /> Leaving his halls of residence, Leo trotted towards the library. It was nearly 8.00 AM; and the warm June weather blew through his hair. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his personal stereo, and checked what tape he had in it. It was the ‘Innuendo’ album by Queen. <br /> <br /> “Splendid!” exclaimed Leo in his exacting, James Bond voice. He placed the earphones over his head, and flicked the switch on. The faint rock music guided him on his journey, underlying his tempo. It wasn’t long before he had reached the library entrance. Still mentally dancing to the music in his ears, Leo made his way to the section he was searching for. <br /> <br /> COSMOLOGY AND ASTRONOMY<br /> <br /> Leo was not even studying this subject. He was a Politics and Modern History undergraduate, but he secretly harboured a passion for all things celestial. Whilst reaching up for the Encyclopaedia Of Astronomic Terms, a small paperback clattered onto the floor. Looking down, Leo saw that it was very tatty, and a plume of dust that accompanied it foretold that it hadn’t been read for a while.<br /> <br /> WHEN UNIVERSES DIE! was the dramatic title. <br /> <br /> “Huh? Universes don’t die, they just fade away” mumbled Leo condescendingly. He picked up the book, and placing it under his arm, took it and the encyclopaedia over to an empty desk. <br /> <br /> Leo read the ‘blurb’ on the back of the small book:<br /> <br /> Renowned Professor of Astronomy; Dr Hilary Billery of Cranfield University, explores the theories behind alternative universes, dimensions and realities. Questions such as: Are we alone in the Universe? are answered here.<br /> <br /> “Hmmm, very interesting I’m sure.” thought Leo, putting down the book. Reaching for the large encyclopaedia - he got on with some serious (albeit enjoyable) research.<br /> <br /> The time passed, and eventually his self-timetabled lunch break approached. <br /> <br /> “Nearly One, time for luncheon me thinks” thought Leo. He packed his bag and replaced the two books before he left. Leo was shocked to see how the weather had changed since the morning. It was raining, chilly and large storm clouds were filling the sky.<br /> <br /> “Drats and botherations!” grumbled Leo, “This is rudy typical!” Putting his warm leather gloves on, he set off in search of food. Increasing his pace to make it to cover without getting too wet, Leo took another glance at his watch. He always kept it to Greenwich Mean Time exactly, although Greenwich itself ceased to exist nearly half-a-century ago; destroyed during the Plague Wars. The minute hand clicked up to the hour, striking exactly 1.00 PM as the College clock did the same.<br /> <br /> Then WHAM!<br /> <br /> Leo was knocked of his feet by a blinding flash. Lightning danced around him as he fell. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the smell of hot tarmac.<br /> <br /> Leo drifted in and out of consciousness. Strange images passed through his mind. Was he dreaming? He felt that he was chasing something through an unknown yet familiar forest, whilst running on all fours. Leo felt this was strange, but settled down to enjoy his dream. He seemed to be able to understand he was dreaming, yet it seemed so real. He continued running through the hazy yet dense undergrowth, desperately trying to catch he knew not what........<br /> <br /> “What!?” Leo blurted as he opened his eyes. He sat up, trying to make sense of what happened. He looked about him. He was still lying on the tarmac path, but was now totally surrounded by a pale, flickering blue light. It rose above him to a height of about seven feet, and around him by about four feet.<br /> <br /> Peering through the crackling haze, he could see figures stumbling about the main quadrangle outside the library. Looking more closely, Leo was shocked by their appearance. They all seemed to be wearing bizarre animal costumes. No, they were not costumes. They were far too accurate. It looked liked some ghastly children’s cartoon come to life. “Disney Gone Mad!” Looking down at himself, Leo was relieved to see that he was still totally human – or at least human shaped. <br /> <br /> “Hell’s bells! I must be hallucinating. God, that lightning hurt!” thought Leo as he rubbed his aching head. Looking around him, the blue light flashed brightly. <br /> <br /> Lifting his hand gingerly, Leo moved it towards the blue light. He nervously pushed his hand through the bubble, suddenly feeling a sharp sensation of pins and needles shooting through his fingers. The pain grew, and Leo snatched his hand back, and carefully pulled off his glove. Staring down at his hand, he was shocked to see what looked like claws retracting back into fingernails, and pale yellow fur now falling off his skin.<br /> <br /> Pondering this strange event, Leo began to surmise that whatever had caused this, and all the other supposed transformations – was kept outside this strange blue light. It was about this time that Leo noticed a crowd gathering around him. They were all in various stages of mutations. Some were still more-or-less human, but with fur or scales, whilst others were virtually indistinguishable from the real thing.<br /> <br /> “What the Dickens is going on?” called Leo to an tiger-shaped student.<br /> <br /> “Dunno friend. We all changed at lunch. It’s on the news – the whole World’s changed.”<br /> <br /> “What are you saying, everyone’s an animal?”<br /> <br /> “No, the kids in the crèche are fine, thank goodness. In fact, the bloke on the news said that all kids under about fourteen seem unaffected. And you too, it seems!” pointing with a sharp claw towards Leo. <br /> <br /> “Yes, I do appear to have some kind of force shield around me.” replied Leo.<br /> <br /> The crowd was growing in number, all squawking and growling. Then pushing through, Leo noticed his friend from across the corridor in his Halls. It was Alex, or at least a wolf that resembled Alex. It was wearing what was left of Alex’s British Bulldog t-shirt.<br /> <br /> “Hey Alex, it’s me. Leo!” <br /> <br /> “I can see that.” growled back Alex, licking his fangs and wagging his tail, “How did you get in there?”. <br /> <br /> “All I remember was some sort of lightning flash – and then I woke up here. Anyway, what’s going on old boy? You don’t look so hot.” smirked Leo. Alex had always had a fascination with wolves – now he was one. <br /> <br /> “There’s been some mass epidemic of some kind. We’re all beasts.”<br /> <br /> “Bad luck old boy. I’m stuck in here, but at least I’m still pink.” retorted Leo. “I can’t seem to get out without changing. Can you get in?”<br /> <br /> “I don’t know. I’ll give it a try.” replied Alex, and tentatively put both his front paws forward towards the blue light. <br /> <br /> “Aargh!” roared Alex, snatching his paws back. The fur was slightly singed.<br /> <br /> “Well, that settles it.” muttered Leo. He sat down, crossed legged and closed his eyes. His favourite thinking position.<br /> <br /> “Hey man, you can’t sit there all day. What about grub?” growled Alex.<br /> <br /> “And become a zoo exhibit like you, no thanks.” retorted Leo haughtily.<br /> <br /> “It’s not that bad. Quite fun, as long as your not an aquatic. We had to man-handle .... sorry beast-handle..... one poor bloke who ballooned into a whale during Modern History into the lake.” said Alex. <br /> <br /> “Hmmmm” muttered Leo, still keeping his eyes shut. “You seem to have adapted quite well.”<br /> <br /> “Well, we’ve had a hour or more to get use to it.”<br /> <br /> “An hour!” spluttered Leo, his eyes flicking open. “Cripes! I must have been out longer than I thought.” <br /> <br /> “Have you tried to leave the bubble yet?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, I stuck my hand out, but it became a paw. When I pulled it back in, it reverted to human.” <br /> <br /> “What did it look like?” enquired Alex.<br /> <br /> “Well, it had yellow fur and claws.” <br /> <br /> “You’re gonna be a labrador or lion?” chuckled Alex, still wagging his tail.<br /> <br /> “Oh great! A lion is quite appropriate, considering my name. I certainly don’t want to be a stinking mutt – present company excepted” grumbled Leo.<br /> <br /> “No offence taken.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> The crowd, still fascinated by the blue force shield – started to disperse as their own lives needed sorting out, and as it didn’t look like Leo was going to budge.<br /> <br /> “Awww, come on man. This is getting boring. Play the game with the rest of us.” pleaded Alex, pacing up and down in front of Leo, walking quite comfortably on his new digitigrades.<br /> <br /> “Welllllll,” mused Leo, “I guess the lightning caused some sort of electrical flux – keeping whatever has caused this epidemic at bay. Perhaps we may be able to utilise it for good of mankind. Besides, I suppose I really can’t stay here forever. I’m getting hungry too.”<br /> <br /> “So let’s role. You’ll like being a wee-beasty. The tails the best bit, takes some getting use to though.” panted Alex, whilst demonstrating his new tail control.<br /> <br /> “Not if I can help it ... old boy.” said Leo, raising smoothly to an upright position. Pulling off his other glove, he mentally prepared himself to leave the bubble. <br /> <br /> “Here goes nothing.” thought Leo – and he stepped towards the blue light.<br /> <br /> He passed straight through, and into the open air. It was then that Leo noticed how ‘stuffy’ the air in the bubble had been, or was it that his sense of smell was now better? As he moved away from the bubble, the blue light faded and vanished. <br /> <br /> Leo felt a tingling sensation run up and down his back. Holding up his hands in front of his face, he saw fur sprout from his skin, and his nails grew and hardened – becoming claws.<br /> <br /> “Oh heck!” blurted Leo, trying to shut out the sloshing of his insides. “Yes, that’s it.” thought Leo, “Shut it out..... must use my concentration to hold it down.”<br /> <br /> Shutting his eyes tight, Leo stood motionless, his friend Alex and a couple other observers watching in anticipation. After about ten seconds, Leo opened his eyes, and Alex exclaimed “Hey dude, you’ve got feline eyes. Your pupils are vertical.”<br /> <br /> Breathing slightly heavily, Leo turned his head to look at Alex.<br /> <br /> “Fffffffffantastic.... a lion it is then!” Leo hair then started to ruffle. His dark brown, straight hair suddenly bleached to a dusty blond, and grew down to his shoulders. It also developed a distinct wave.<br /> <br /> “Another one bites the dust. He’s changing too.” muttered one of the spectators.<br /> <br /> “No I’m bloody not!” scolded Leo, and with a wave of his hand, he seemed to return to his normal relaxed posture.<br /> <br /> “There now old boy.... told you I could it!”<br /> <br /> “Do what?” enquired Alex, his lupine features twisted in slight confusion.<br /> <br /> “Beat the system. I’m not going to be like the rest of you. I’m sticking with cutlery!”<br /> <br /> “You don’t understand man..... you’re a lion now.” growled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, possibly – but in my defence – not as much changed as the rest of you.” smirked Leo, as he replaced his gloves and his shades. It was true, for the only morphing that showed now on Leo was a wavy blond mane rather than dark brown hair. Even his face (apart from his eyes) hadn’t changed.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps it wasn’t you – but the lightning that beat the system?” murmured Alex. <br /> <br /> “Again........ perhaps?” replied Leo, as he reached for his backpack, pulling out his personal stereo. “I’m off home, fancy coming?”<br /> <br /> Alex shifted on his paws. Alex had always been more open minded than Leo – and was disappointed that his younger friend seemed so disapproving of this exciting experience.<br /> <br /> “Okay then. What you listening to?”<br /> <br /> “The Innuendo album by Queen. Here have a listen.” replied Leo, passing the headphones to Alex.<br /> <br /> Alex’s hearing was much improved, but his little pointed ears were not best placed to use the headphones. The song was ‘I’m Going Slightly Mad’<br /> <br /> “”When the outside temperature rises, and the meaning is oh so clear.<br /> One thousand and one yellow daffodils begin to dance in front of you.<br /> <br /> Oh dear!<br /> <br /> Are they trying to sell you something? You’re missing that one final screw.<br /> You’re simply not in the pink my dear – to be honest you haven’t got a clue.<br /> <br /> I’m going slightly mad! Oh dear!”” <br /> <br /> Alex chuckled. “We certainly are not in the pink anymore, unless you’re a pig morph.”<br /> <br /> “Very true.” replied Leo, taking back the headphones. “So, give me a debrief about this mass metamorphosis then”.<br /> <br /> “Well, we don’t know much. Like that guy told you earlier, every adult in the World is affected. Young kids are unchanged. Pubescent teenagers are part changed, about as much as you have. Anyone over sixteen is reaching for the flee-powder.” <br /> <br /> “A relic of the Plague perhaps?” pondered Leo.<br /> <br /> “Dunno mate. I’m no scientist.” sighed Alex. “I think most people are adapting quite well. Being very chipper – very British! That’ll please you.”<br /> <br /> “It does indeed. We beat the Plague once before – we can do it again!” boomed Leo, his pride and blood pressure rising, and his voice suddenly much deeper. Then Leo felt the uncomfortable tingling start again.<br /> <br /> “Nnnah—NO!” snarled Leo, now bent over double in pain. Alex stood in shocked silence. Leo went quiet, and then slowly stood up – arching his back. Alex eyed him carefully. A sweat had broken out on his forehead, but no change was noticeable. Perhaps his blond hair was a little longer, and he now looked like he needed a shave.<br /> <br /> “Are you okay man?” said Alex, putting his paws towards Leo.<br /> <br /> “Never better!” said Leo cheerily, back with his own voice again. Alex wasn’t convinced – but accepted his friend’s word.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I forgot. Some of us have developed special powers. Most of us can shift from this half-human form to the actual animal we resemble. The TV calls it Norm-shift. Also, some people seem to be able to pick what animal they can become. They tried reverting to human – but they get no further than just off-human.” infodumped Alex helpfully.<br /> <br /> “It’s a kind of magic indeed.” said Leo.<br /> <br /> The two friends continued towards their Hall block when without warning, a seven feet tall lizard sprang at them from behind a mound of shrubbery. Thankfully it had over-launched itself, landing a few feet past.<br /> <br /> “Shit!” growled Alex “Oh yeah... some have become dinosaurs and some have gone slightly mad!”<br /> <br /> “Only slightly mad?” laughed Leo.<br /> <br /> The lizard, which closely resembled the velociraptor from the film Jurassic Park, turned on its claws – glaring and snarling at Leo and Alex. It thrashed its long tail. Leo ducked, but Alex was caught on the muzzle – and sent flailing into the bushes.<br /> <br /> “Damn you!” cried Leo. “We’re humans. We mean you no harm.”<br /> <br /> The velociraptor peered at Leo. It studied him, as if trying to ascertain why he was not an animal or an obvious morph. Leo sensed this somehow. He took off his shades and glared back at his attacker with his bright green lion eyes.<br /> <br /> The velociraptor swung down at Leo. His reflexes improved, Leo managed to dodge the slashing claw. He had taught himself a good level of self-defence as part of his one-man militia view of the World – and this was to prove valuable now in a way he would never have imagined. Fighting a velociraptor at University!<br /> <br /> Leo sprang at the dinosaur, catching it around the neck. He yanked the creature’s neck back, trying to choke it unconscious. The velociraptor, however, managed to shake-off Leo, sending him crashing to the ground. It raised its claws, trying to hack at this pink and grey intruder. Again, Leo zipped away with microns to spare. <br /> <br /> Leo managed a spinning kick, placing a nice boot into the beast’s stomach. The velociraptor roared in pain. Taking advantage of this brief pause, Leo grabbed a handful of dirt from a nearby flowerbed, and threw it into the raptor’s eyes. Leo stood back, as his opponent flailed around – obviously not skilled in using its smell function to find its prey yet.<br /> <br /> “Whoaaa!” belched Leo. The tingling was back with a vengeance. Leo shut his eyes, and slumped to his knees, trying hard to focus. In his mind’s eye, he could see what appeared to be a door. The door was shut, but looked as if it would open. Then a strange yet familiar voice sounded in his head.<br /> <br /> DANGER DANGER, MUST RUN, GO GO GO GO.<br /> <br /> “No! I will not have this.” cried Leo. “I’m not a fucking animal.”<br /> <br /> Still feeling giddy, Leo managed to stand upright again, just in time to see the raptor recover its sight and composure.<br /> <br /> “Rrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!” roared Leo, and he leapt straight at the raptor, flying about six feet in the air. Twisting around mid-flight, Leo connected a perfect kick with his boot into the creature’s forehead. Landing perfectly on his feet, Leo turned to see the velociraptor keel over. It was still breathing, but was out cold. As he watched, the monster shrank – to form a half-human, half-dinosaur morph. Leo recognised the face – it was his tutor, Dr Smedley.<br /> <br /> “Ouch. What happened?” came a muttered growl from the bush, and Alex raised himself out of the shrubbery – rubbing his sore head.<br /> <br /> “Just failed my degree!” joked Leo, still panting. “I’ve just KO’d my form tutor.”<br /> <br /> “WOW!” shouted Alex. “You beat that raptor!”<br /> <br /> “But of course.... old boy! Anyway, no point hanging around waiting for him to see who it was who beat him – the show must go on.” replied Leo. His voice was definitely deeper and more husky, also his eyes looked even more feline and wild. <br /> <br /> Alex followed. <br /> <br /> They eventually arrived back at their respective rooms. Leo hadn’t said much since the fight, and Alex had guessed that he was battling some personal demons, so did not try and start a conversation.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmmmm” said Leo, which seemed to be his new catchphrase. “I’m intrigued by the door I saw during the fight.”<br /> <br /> “Door, what door?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “The door in my mind. I concentrated, and saw a door. As I approached it, some strange voice in my head started barking orders at me.”<br /> <br /> “Ah, that’s your norm-shift! I’ve got that door too, and when you go through it – you become the complete animal.”<br /> <br /> “Alex, you were always the complete animal.” joked Leo, still sounding somewhat strained. <br /> <br /> “Shut up. Here let me show you.” replied Alex, mocking anger.<br /> <br /> Leo watched as Alex began to hunch over. More fur sprouted over his body, and in flash and a crunch – he was a snarling timber wolf.<br /> <br /> “Impressive.” said Leo in his best Darth Vader voice, now made much more easy by his changed larynx. Alex morphed back into his half-human form. <br /> <br /> “What da’ya think?”<br /> <br /> “Not bad at all. But do you get those voices in your head?”<br /> <br /> “Yep, that’s your instincts talking. They’re there to help you – you just got to learn to control them.” explained Alex.<br /> <br /> “Control........ yes that was the key.” thought Leo. “If I can control it, then I may not go barking mad after all.”<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> It was another bright, June morning. Leo awoke early, as usual.<br /> <br /> “What a horrible dream!” he moaned, and scratched his head. “Damn it.... claws. It’s bloody real after all.” Leo grabbed his dressing gown, and wandered into his bathroom. Gazing into the mirror, he raised a quizzical, yellow eyebrow.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmmm..... not much to report. Eyes still green...... oh well.”<br /> <br /> Leo finished his personal inspection, and got dressed. The weather was warmer today – so he decided to forgo his trench coat and gloves. Switching on the television – every channel (or at least those operating) were devoted to the Change – not unsurprisingly. <br /> <br /> Knock Knock!<br /> <br /> “Morning!” growled a familiar voice from behind the door.<br /> <br /> “Greetings old boy.” replied Leo, as he leapt across his room in one bound. Pulling open the door, Alex the wolf grinned back.<br /> <br /> “How ya feeeeling today?” enquired the timber wolf enthusiastically.<br /> <br /> “Pretty good really. Teeth are now giving me jip – but other than that. Fine.”<br /> <br /> “You don’t know what you are missing mate.” said Alex, as he swished his tail around in the air.<br /> <br /> “Humph!” retorted Leo, and walked back into his room. “Have you heard from your folks?”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, they’re fine. Mum is a cat and Dad’s a badger. Both fairly low-degree. How about you?”<br /> <br /> “Oh” said Leo quietly, “Better than could be expected. Dad’s a high-degree Kestrel, and Mum’s a low-degree rabbit. Not the perfect married match – but Mum’s bigger than Dad now, so they get along okay.”<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s go and get some munchies” begged Alex, licking his long teeth.<br /> <br /> “Sure” and Leo grabbed his wallet from the desk, and followed his friend down the corridor. “I’ve been looking into my ‘powers’ and I think I’ve got something called degree control: being able to keep myself as close to humanoid as makes no difference. In fact, the few extras I’ve got like increased hearing, smell and strength are pretty damn first class.”<br /> <br /> “Why are you soooo afraid of becoming your full morph?” asked Alex. “It’s not that bad, really.”<br /> <br /> “You said the same about smoking cannabis. Where did that get you?” retorted Leo.<br /> <br /> “A whole bunch of new friends and an expanded view of the World.” <br /> <br /> “Did you ever hallucinate this?” asked Leo sarcastically .<br /> <br /> “No way man. Yesterday and today are totally ‘out there’!”<br /> <br /> Upon leaving their dorm building, a whole rush of sweet smells filled their nostrils. They emanated from the nearby cafeteria.<br /> <br /> “Bacon and eggs?” enquired Alex.<br /> <br /> “No, smells more like tomatoes and sausages to me.” replied Leo. “I wonder which of us has the keenest olfactory nerves?” <br /> <br /> “Dunno, biology was never my strong point.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Was anything your strong point?” asked Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo and Alex managed to track down their circle of friends, and compare stories. All were shocked, and fascinated to see Leo – being virtually human. His blond mane suited him, and his hands were not proper paws, just fingers with fur and long nails really. Other than that, his night’s sleep had only succeeded to extending his fangs by a tiny amount.<br /> <br /> George, the rugby player, was now an impressive black stallion – almost totally norm. Little Mick Plasters was some type of bush baby – not the most flattering of changes, but somewhat appropriate it was felt. The hippy twins Rhapsody and Robert were female and male otters respectively, both fairly low degree. Finally, and much to Leo great joy – was Catherine, the girl he secretly desired, was now a seductive, sexy lioness. As Leo gazed upon her, he felt she was made in heaven. Could things get any more wonderfully awkward? <br /> <br /> “Hey Leo.” purred Catherine, as he flicked her tail suggestively “You and me seem to be in the same boat.”<br /> <br /> “You’re right, a sinking one.” replied Leo tersely. He regretted being so blunt, but he didn’t want to get drawn into too much small talk about their morph-states. Everyone seemed pleased with the change, except him. <br /> <br /> “Awwww, don’t be like that.” she said. “This is probably the best thing that could have happened to this World. Now all races are mixed up – everyone is the same. This could be heaven for everyone?”<br /> <br /> Leo said nothing.<br /> <br /> “Anyway...” interjected bohemian Rhapsody, breaking the awkward silence. “Have we got any plans for this evening?”<br /> <br /> “Nope.” snorted Big George. The others just shrugged.<br /> <br /> “Fat lot of good you lot are!” sighed Alex, and turned to Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo had his eyes shut, as if in deep thought. Alex gave his friend a quick look up and down, and turned back to Big George and the others. Leo had felt something touch his ankle, and slide up the side of his boot and tap him on the knee. It was a claw. A furry claw. Catherine’s claw! He opened his eyes, to see her smiling at him, with an enticingly innocent look in her eyes. She signalled with her right paw towards the canteen exit.<br /> <br /> “Hey guys, I’m just gonna go out for some air.” said Catherine, “Fancy a walk Leo?”<br /> <br /> “Um, well – maybe, um no – not really.” stumbled Leo, losing his vocal fluidity for once. A sharp dig in his ribs from Alex’s elbow soon shook him to his senses.<br /> <br /> “Oh, okay then.” said Leo, and he accompanied Catherine outside. He could hear the rest of the table sniggering behind him. He had tried to keep his deep feelings for Catherine secret, but somehow Alex had guessed – and spread the word – as usual.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter Leo?” asked Catherine, taking his arm. Leo instinctively jumped on being touched.<br /> <br /> “I’m okay. I’m just not that keen on all this change situation. I was quite happy with the way things were.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t think you are ever happy.” sighed Catherine.<br /> <br /> “That’s not true!” snapped Leo, “What makes you say that?” <br /> <br /> “Oh, just that you always seem jumpy and aggressive – like you’re bottling something up. Not just today – but ever since I’ve known you. Why don’t you enjoy life – chill out a bit. I mean, you even wear a ceremonial uniform to lectures.” <br /> <br /> “I thought you liked my clothes.” said Leo, somewhat disappointedly.<br /> <br /> “I do, I do – but you should try and vary it a bit – Vader Boy.”<br /> <br /> The sun beamed down, warming them as they walked. In fact, Leo was getting increasingly hot – and itchy. They walked down towards the campus lake, seeing a whale blow a jet of water from it spout at the other end.<br /> <br /> “It’s a beautiful day, Leo, don’t you think?” <br /> <br /> “If you say so.”<br /> <br /> “Have you found out why you are still human-ish?” asked Catherine.<br /> <br /> “It’s basically like I told the rest. I was struck by lightning at the instant the change took place. I was protected by a bubble of some kind – and when I left it, the change was in this reduced form. I did feel a bit.... but.....” He suddenly stopped, not wanting to continue.<br /> <br /> “But what?” asked Catherine, spinning round to face Leo.<br /> <br /> “But nothing!” shouted Leo, the anger in him suddenly and uncontrollably rising. He swooned as the tingling feelings of yesterday returned.<br /> <br /> “I only asked.” snapped Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Woooo, um – I don’t feel so good old girl” spluttered Leo. He stumbled about, eventually falling to his knees.<br /> <br /> “Hey – what’s the matter?” asked Catherine, only half believing Leo was really in trouble. Leo didn’t reply, but started snarling.<br /> <br /> “Stop that, you are not impressing me.” said Catherine, arms folded over her furry chest.<br /> <br /> Leo looked up at her, his face twisted in agony. His breathing was becoming deeper. His grunts and snarls more pronounced. As Catherine looked closer, she could see fur poking out around Leo’s collar. His hands too were slowly widening and thickening. For Leo, the worse change was in his mind.<br /> <br /> The mental door was slowly opening in his mind. He tried to see through, to touch the freedom and release on the other side – but something was tugging at him, holding him and his humanity together. Deep, guttural voices thundered in his angst-ridden mind. <br /> <br /> “RELEASE YOURSELF...... RELEASE YOURSELF” they cried.<br /> <br /> Leo opened his eyes, to see a very concerned lioness looking down at him. He tried to look around at himself. He first saw his hands, or were they paws? No, they were hands – they must be hands. He, Leo, was not going to succumb to nature, not now – not ever!!!!<br /> <br /> The tingling reached the base of his spine. There was something like warm, twitching rope filling the seat of his trousers. Leo felt his boots stretch and strain as his feet became digitigrade. His clothes became painfully tight; and fur was now spreading all over his body.<br /> <br /> “NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!” roared Leo, springing to his feet. His eyes burned bright green as he glared at Catherine. Slowly, his features relaxed. The pressure in his body receded, and his limbs shrank back. In an instant, everything was normal again.<br /> <br /> “Y..you.... want to tell me ss..something?” asked Catherine, somewhat shakily.<br /> <br /> “No, everything is okay now my dear. Everything!” said Leo, his face rigid as steel.<br /> <br /> “Sure?” replied Catherine sarcastically, but Leo didn’t answer. They carried on walking around the lake, talking idly about nothing in particular. Leo refused to discuss his little turn, and Catherine not wanting to push him over it either. Eventually, they returned to the canteen.<br /> <br /> “Have fun?” asked Alex as the pair re-entered their room. The other friends had already left.<br /> <br /> “Urm.... yes, thanks.” said Leo, avoiding eye contact.<br /> <br /> “A very interesting walk.” added Catherine coolly.<br /> <br /> “Oh,” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, time I was making a move, and Catherine’s got to go home” said Leo.<br /> <br /> “I’m got to do what?” interrupted Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Coming Alex?” continued Leo, ignoring Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Urh – okay.” replied the wolf.<br /> <br /> Catherine tried to kiss Leo on the cheek, but he turned away. Catherine was left alone in the canteen, with Leo storming off out of the door, Alex in hot pursuit.<br /> <br /> “What the hell are you playing at!” shouted Alex, grabbing Leo’s arm with his claw. <br /> <br /> “What are you going on about?” replied Leo dismissively.<br /> <br /> “The way you are treating Catherine! You might as well have spat in her face back there.” snarled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Keep your bloody nose out of this!” growled Leo, pushing Alex away.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Don’t get shirty with me - pal.” snapped Alex, putting his muzzle close to Leo’s face.<br /> <br /> “Shut up!” roared Leo, and he grabbed Alex around the neck.<br /> <br /> “Stop that Leo. You’re hurting......” spluttered Alex, trying to pull Leo’s hands away. Leo’s green eyes flashed, his grip remaining rock solid.<br /> <br /> “Urgh...... stop.” moaned Alex, who eventually managed to pull himself free. He crumpled onto the ground, his huge tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Leo seemed adrift in a world of his own, for a moment no longer hearing his friend.<br /> <br /> “I...I...I’m sorry.” said Leo, the tenseness in his body shrinking away.<br /> <br /> “Okay man,” said Alex, “What is the problem?”<br /> <br /> “I.... I don’t know. I’m still having those lapses. I had a very bad one when walking with Catherine. The door in my mind was almost open.” said Leo softly.<br /> <br /> “But why did you treat Catherine so badly?” continued Alex.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know,” answered Leo, “She is so wonderful. Perhaps I’m frightened of what she is tempting me with.”<br /> <br /> “Sorry, I don’t follow.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Geeez, do you want me to spell it out for you? I’m in love with Catherine. She loves me. We are both lions. It’s too perfect. Too tempting. If I couple with her – I may go fully leonine.”<br /> <br /> “And?” retorted Alex, “What is wrong with that?”<br /> <br /> “I’m not like you. I don’t want to be an animal. I feel under pressure to conform, but I’m not prepared to go through with it.” explained Leo.<br /> <br /> “Liar!” blurted Alex, “You just can’t handle women.”<br /> <br /> “Think what you like.” said Leo, and he turned and continued walking.<br /> <br /> “That crazy little thing called love....” sighed Alex, and he followed after Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo strode towards the halls of residence, a renewed determination on his face. Alex caught up with him, intrigued by his friend’s expression.<br /> <br /> “What we doing now?” asked Alex tentatively.<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some research to do. Last night I was reading up about the properties of lightning and its affect upon natural physiology. From what I gathered on the news, the current theory on the Change is that it is some kind of quantum flux – bending reality; and not a viral epidemic as we first thought.” explained Leo.<br /> <br /> “Oh...” muttered Alex, “I’m sorry I asked.”<br /> <br /> The two friends continued towards Leo’s room. The sun was beginning to sink, and they only passed a few morphs on their journey. They did notice, however, a couple of lizards who seemed to be following them – albeit at a discreet distance. Leo was certainly becoming notorious around campus as the man who defied the universe.<br /> <br /> “I still don’t get why you were so hard on Cat?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “Cat? Oh, Catherine.” mused Leo, “Well, I guess I was a bit tough – and hey, sorry about throttling you back there.”<br /> <br /> “No probs mate. Didn’t realise you were that strong.” smirked Alex, rubbing his neck.<br /> <br /> Upon reaching his room, Leo ushered Alex inside – checking to see if they were still being trailed. They were.<br /> <br /> “Damn it.” growled Leo “Those police lizards are still out there.”<br /> <br /> “How do you know they’re police?”<br /> <br /> “It’s obvious.” said Leo, “They look shifty, go around in pairs and are wearing old duffel coats.”<br /> <br /> “Figures.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> Leo rummaged on his desk, pulling out a tatty folder from the pile of papers. Alex flopped onto the bed, glad to be resting his paws for a bit.<br /> <br /> “Here.” said Leo, opening up the folder to reveal a list of strange formulas.<br /> <br /> “What?”<br /> <br /> “The answer to our problems.” replied Leo.<br /> <br /> “Sorry pal, I’m not following.” said ALex.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, how did you ever get into University in the first place. This is the key for unlocking the change. I’ve formulated that a controlled dose of electricity will trigger the powers necessary to revert people to their human self, or at least as much as me. I can’t really explain the details – but it undoes the metabolisms reaction to the quantum flux.” said Leo.<br /> <br /> “Huh?” grumbled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Either by using electromagnetic forces, or even radiation – we could basically get back to normal. It might not totally send things back to how they were, but at least tails will be off the fashion list.”<br /> <br /> “Oh no!” said Alex, “I like mine. Anyway, why haven’t you tried out this super theory of yours?”<br /> <br /> “I hardly likely to stick my fingers in an electric socket, and see what happens. Besides, I don’t need the treatment. I’m okay!”<br /> <br /> “Yeah right, you weren’t so hot when you went for a walk earlier.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “That was different. I was preoccupied then.” replied Leo tersely.<br /> <br /> “Well, I’m not gonna be your guinea pig.” said Alex, “I like being a wolf.”<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry old bean. I haven’t got any equipment to use anyway – so you’re quite safe.” soothed Leo. Alex got up from the bed, and wandered to the door.<br /> <br /> “Where are you going?” asked Leo, astonished.<br /> <br /> “I’m going home – you seem pretty well occupied here.”<br /> <br /> “Suit yourself!” snapped Leo, and he sat down at his desk. Alex closed the door behind him.<br /> <br /> Alex padded across the corridor to his own room. The lizardmen had gone, but Alex was concerned by their earlier presence. Was Leo right? Were the police following them?<br /> <br /> Evening came, and Leo was still hard at work on his research when there was a knock at the door. Leo stiffened. Alex always did a ‘rata-tat-tat’ when he knocked. This had been a single thump. Cautiously, Leo crept towards the door – straining with his improved hearing to make out any clue as to the identity of the visitor. He heard nothing, but he smelt something distinct, something leonine. It was Catherine! Leo slowly opened the door, to see a beaming lioness-morph.<br /> <br /> “Hi Leo, I was worried about you.” she said.<br /> <br /> “I’m fine thanks. Come in, I need to apologise for today.” replied Leo. Catherine slunk sexily into the room, swishing her tail as she went.<br /> <br /> “Catherine, look, I’m sorry for being so hard today. I’m just not feeling too good since the Change.” he explained.<br /> <br /> “I understand,” Catherine said softly, “But I really don’t know what eating you. You have far less to worry about than the rest of us. You are the least changed adult in the World.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, and I wish to stay that way.” whispered Leo, pointing to his papers on the desk.<br /> <br /> “What are those?” asked Catherine.<br /> <br /> “They are a formula I’ve been working on that may return us all to human. I’m basing the idea on the lightning that hit me yesterday.”<br /> <br /> “Will it work?” she asked.<br /> <br /> “Don’t know yet – haven’t got any equipment to try it out. Am I’m not even sure that the formula is right. I’ve been at it for hours – but its getting so complicated.” <br /> <br /> “Take a break. Things always look easier when they are looked at fresh.” soothed Catherine, ruffling Leo’s hair. Leo squinted as she touched him, but relaxed again almost immediately.<br /> <br /> “You’re right, fancy a drink.” said Leo, uncharacteristically cheerily.<br /> <br /> “Yes please!” squealed Catherine. That was the first time Leo had ever offered to go for a drink.<br /> <br /> The couple walked towards the student bar. The sun was already down, and a cool breeze filled the air. Catherine held tightly onto Leo’s arm, laying her head on his shoulder as they walked.<br /> <br /> Leo noticed a sound coming from behind them. He wouldn’t have normally noticed things like that, but his new senses detected that the sound, similar to footsteps, sounded hurried but hesitant, as if following something. Leo turned his head around, only to see a shadow disappear behind down an alley.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Catherine concerned.<br /> <br /> “Oh, nothing old girl.” replied Leo, “Just thought I heard something.”<br /> <br /> “You are getting too paranoid.” <br /> <br /> “Just because I’m paranoid, does not mean that they are not out to get me.” moaned Leo.<br /> <br /> “Get who? Get what?” sighed Catherine.<br /> <br /> ZIPPPP!<br /> <br /> “Ouch!” cried Leo, feeling the back of his neck. A small toxin dart poked out from his collar.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Catherine, just as another projectile struck her as well. <br /> <br /> “G-gotta r-run.....” croaked Leo as the sleeping drug took affect. Both of them collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> They are kidnapped by lizard police, and taken to a disused factory. Put in cages, police want to know Leo’s secret, because knowledge of it might make people want to return human – therefore civil unrest, but also the government want the power for themselves. They are going to get the secret, and turn Leo permanently into lion so he cannot talk. Catherine acts as a further worry for Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo proves too mentally strong, and the lizards attempt to norm-shift him results in the lion springing from his mind. Therefore human Leo and feline Lion are in the cage at the same time. This leaves a perfectly human Leo very weak. He remerges with the lion to escape and rescue Cat, but his research is destroyed, and so he learns to accept his leonine side.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> TO BE CONTINUED.....................<br /> <br /> All lyrics and song titles are copyright of Queen Music Ltd.<br /> <br /> {{separator}}<br /> <br /> Leo twitched in his cage. The empowered lizard-morph stalked around the outside of the cage, mentally pummelling Leo with blasts of (####power to shift someone energy####). Leo bit his lip as the surges of energy ran through his body. He could not fall to his norm-half. He had held out so long, possibly the most human adult in the World – and with the gifts the blue lightning had given him – he dare not fall. The World depended on him.<br /> <br /> “Aaargh!” roared Leo, as the lizard’s power grew. More fur sprouted over Leo’s face and arms. His wavy blond hair started to grow longer, joining with the tufts now poking out of the collar of his t-shirt.<br /> <br /> Leo puts his clawed hands onto the cage bars, and dragged himself to an upright posture. He saw his hands shrink in length, and then spread wider, into paws – pads forming on his palms.<br /> <br /> “No, I shall not let you do this.” bellowed Leo. Alex watched on, now barely recognising his friend’s voice. Leo shut his eyes, and focused all of his energy at the lizard’s consciousness. Just as he felt the change subside and retract, another member of the cult scuttled to the lizard’s side. It too focused its energies on Leo.<br /> <br /> “You are dangerousssssss boy.” hissed the first lizard. “We cannot allow you to be so human, so powerful, in a World of morphs.”<br /> <br /> Leo was now outnumbered two to one. The fur returned to his neck and arms. His hands lost any appearance of humanity – becoming perfect claws.– and there was a twinging, tickling sensation at the base of his spine. As Leo grimaced, a tail began to fill the seat of his jeans.<br /> <br /> “Nooooooooooooooooooo!” screamed Leo; and with a wave of blue light – Leo was immediately back in his near-humanoid form again. Both lizards had been flung to ground by the energy blast, and there prowling around outside the cage was a lion.<br /> <br /> “It can’t be. He’sssss too sssstrong!” hissed the lizard, who fled the room.<br /> <br /> “You did it.” howled Alex, wagging his tail. “How did you manage that?”<br /> <br /> “I... I d-don’t kknow.” whispered Leo painfully, clutching his stomach. “I did it!”<br /> <br /> To Be Continued…</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=School_Daze&diff=9391 2008-12-04T20:23:00Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>{{byline|author=White Lion<br /> |user=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> They say that your school days are the best days of your life. Mine weren’t. Most of my childhood was spent in fear and above all loneliness. My life was happy until my baby brother Jason was born – when I was six. I had been an only child up until then, but now I had to share my World with a demanding, crying, pink demon. Well, that was my selfish and childish feeling during the first year – but I soon changed my opinion when I realised what fun it was going to be to have a kid brother. Being an only child has benefits – such as getting spoilt by your parents (but my family never had much money); but it also can be very lonely. Now I had a friend.<br /> <br /> My newfound hope began to fade. The extra cost of my baby brother was putting a strain on my parents. To the best of my knowledge, Jason had been an accident – for which my father blamed my mother. To compound matters – the firm my father worked for was relocating overseas. My father had agreed to go, but my mother refused to move. The pain and the anger began to increase day by day. Arguments were virtually a daily occurrence. Thankfully, violence never happened – at least not to my knowledge. Sure, I was spanked for misbehaving – but that’s all. Poor Jason was still a baby, unaware of the worsening situation. Some nights, my parents would be rowing for hours – and would not hear Jason’s crying in his cot. I tried to sleep, and ignore the sounds outside my bedroom door; but I just couldn’t. I would see what was wrong with Jason. Often he was just hungry, or tired, or needed his nappy changed. I had become a dab hand with nappies by my seventh birthday.<br /> <br /> Other nights, I would sneak out of my room secretly, and pad across the landing to Jason. He used to get terribly upset when my parents shouted at each other. I used to lie by his bed at night and sing to him to drown out the sound downstairs. His favourite songs were Bright Eyes and Puff the Magic Dragon. Sometimes I’d fall asleep by his bedside – at which point he’d decide to wake up again and pull my hair through the bars of the cot.<br /> <br /> ‘Zing more! Zing more!’ he would say, and I’d have to sing my whole repertoire all over again. Mum or Dad would often find me fast asleep on the floor, and send me back to my own bedroom because I had school in the morning.<br /> <br /> This situation carried on for almost two years. At last my father’s company had moved abroad – and this was the final nail in my parents marriage. They divorced when I was nine. My father moved away – and my mother, Jason and I had to move into a small house. Maintenance cheques came from my father – but these were not much. My mother had to work nights at a call centre to make ends meet, leaving me to fend for myself and Jason in the evenings.<br /> <br /> For most of my childhood, Jason was my only friend. I did know others, but they didn’t want to get too close to me. This was in fear of being bullied like me. I and my brother were the only protestant children, and of divorced parents at a catholic boys’ school. We were on an assisted place scheme, having our fees paid for by the local council. I believe that it was part of a token gesture by the school to open its doors to the less fortunate members of the local community – and we were the guinea pigs.<br /> <br /> In the beginning, the bullying was just taunts from the other boys, as well as the occasional fight – but nothing out of the ordinary for one’s schooldays. Thankfully, I took the brunt of their cruel boredom. They seemed to leave Jason alone. That was until a boy called Philip Miles joined. I’m not really sure how best to describe Philip. He was the sort of person who would tie a firework to a cat’s tail and laugh as it burnt the poor creature. Why he was like that, I still cannot say. He wasn’t even from a broken home. He had two parents, was well off and had no reason to be the way he was. Perhaps he was ill, but I don’t know. He was certainly sick in his attitude!<br /> <br /> I knew this, and so I tried to avoid him. This he noticed, and so tried to taunt me into a reaction. A couple of times he would do things such as push my school books onto the floor, and shout “Pick those up Dog Boy” or something similar. Other times he would stamp on my feet with his football studs during games lessons. Gritting my teeth on most occasions – I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Once I finally lost my temper and tried to punch him, but he was bigger than I was, and quite easily overpowered my pathetic assault. <br /> <br /> Then he noticed that the only thing that would make me react was a threat to Jason. He would do things like trip Jason over down the corridors, and steal his satchel from him – throwing it over the school wall. Usually this occurred when I was not around – and I would only hear about it at home. Most evenings I would return home with Jason on our own, make some dinner, wake my mother with a cup of tea, and then do my homework. Nowadays, my mother would be unfairly accused of neglecting us – but in truth she was working horrible hours in poor conditions to keep us in clothes and food. I remember saving all my pocket money for months, and managed to buy my mother a necklace for her birthday. Thinking back, it was not of any real quality – but she still wore it proudly to work every day.<br /> <br /> Once Jason had told me of Philip’s actions, I would confront him the next day in class. He had, though, managed to assemble as well drilled gang of about half a dozen or more boys. I was powerless to do anything other than a token bout of fighting. I usually end the day with a bruise or sometimes even a black eye. I tried to tell my teacher, which only succeeded in getting Philip a detention, and making him even madder. It was not long before things started to get out of hand.<br /> <br /> The first serious occasion I care to recall was one lunchtime. I was walking past a classroom window when I happened to chance upon one of Philip’s gang holding Jason by the throat. His hands were around Jason’s throat, crushing in on his windpipe. They couldn’t see me. Then I did something I have always deeply regretted – I hesitated!<br /> <br /> I pondered, briefly, that perhaps it would be better for Jason to learn to protect himself. What if I wasn’t walking passed the window? What if something happened to me in the future? He would need to look after himself. However, that thought was only a few seconds. A few long, painful, guilty seconds. Finally, I came to my senses and raced into the classroom. Leaping onto the other boy I managed to pull Jason free. Putting myself between Jason and the thug I edged towards the door. Jason was crying and hurt; large bruises evident around his neck. I got him to relative safety, and stayed with him until the bell went for lessons. I have always hated myself for pausing – trying to be too clever for my own good. Thankfully he never knew I had waited – but what if that wait had caused Jason a serious injury?<br /> <br /> The next incident was more serious. Somehow Philip had lured Jason into an empty classroom at break time, probably by snatching his bag or something. Anyway, whilst another kept the duty teacher busy talking, Philip sent one of his cronies to find me. <br /> <br /> “We’ve got your brother Brookes, and if you don’t come now – he’s finished!” I rushed to the ambush site to be confronted by Philip having poor little Jason in a head-lock, with several henchmen around.<br /> <br /> “Let him go!” I shouted but it was no use. I lunged at Philip, but was wrestled to the ground by his cronies. <br /> <br /> “Brookes – you have a choice. Punch your brother in the face, and we’ll let you go. Or you both get smashed!”<br /> <br /> I looked at Jason. He was grimacing with pain, but tried valiantly not to let Philip know he was hurt. They all taunted us, shouting “Punch him, punch him, punch him!” I turned and glared at Philip. <br /> <br /> “Let him GO!” I bellowed again. Jason was now sobbing.<br /> <br /> “Punch him hard – and we’ll never pick on you again!” smirked Philip, followed by chuckles from his pack of hyenas. It was no good. I had no choice. I got up and walked towards them. I raised my fist, and punched Philip! <br /> <br /> In a flash, they released Jason and had set upon me. Philip – initially stunned by my action, then drew a pair of compasses from his pockets – and drove the point into my shoulder – then dragged it along to my arm. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. Without another word, they all fled. Shakily getting to my feet, I went over to Jason, who was crying. Putting my arm around him, we left the room. I told no one of this.<br /> <br /> I hoped that was going to be the end of it, and also that Jason would have learnt to stay away from the senior classrooms and stay in the playground, but I was to be disappointed on both.<br /> It was now just before Easter. Jason had got a plastic model aeroplane for his birthday, and despite my strong reservations, he took it to school to show his friends. This was too good an opportunity for Philip to miss. A chance to lure me to his final ambush. Once in the playground, Philip managed to snatch the plane from Jason’s grasp and ran off with it towards the cloakrooms.<br /> <br /> “Come and get it!” cackled back Philip.<br /> <br /> “Give it back!” cried Jason. He was only just eight, and no match for Philip and his crowd. He was also a junior, and was fearful of entering the senior boys’ cloakroom. Jason came running over to me in the playground, tears pouring from his eyes.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve t...t...taken my p..plane” he bawled.<br /> <br /> “Who have?” I replied, putting my arm around him.<br /> <br /> “Those b...b..boys in your c....class. That n....nasty one.”<br /> <br /> My heart sank. Any initial thought of an easy retrieval from a bunch of jealous eight year olds was gone. It was Philip, and I knew that this was another trap. But I had no choice. I couldn’t let Jason down again.<br /> <br /> “Where have they gone?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve g-gone into t-the cloakroom” sobbed Jason.<br /> <br /> “Right, stay here!” I said. “I’ll get it back. I promise.”<br /> <br /> I walked slowly over to the cloakroom. Jason skulked behind me, disobeying my plea to remain outside. As I entered the cloakroom, I found Philip sitting on his haunches against the far wall. Around the room were his minions. As I entered the room, they cut off my retreat. I was terribly afraid, but I had to do it.<br /> <br /> “Ah, Brookes. Come to sort out your no good brother!” he laughed.<br /> <br /> “Give his plane back! It’s me your after. Leave him out of it.” I said as calmly as I could muster. Even as I said it, I felt it sounded rather corny. A bit too Hollywood. <br /> <br /> “Beg!” snarled Philip.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you!” I snapped.<br /> <br /> “Beg you cock, or I’ll break it”. Philip put his hands on the wings of the plane, and began to twist the plastic. I turned to see Jason, who had wandered to the door. He sobbed quietly. <br /> <br /> Spinning back to Philip, I quickly replied “Okay, okay. Just don’t break it.”<br /> <br /> “On your knees!”<br /> <br /> “What?” I said.<br /> <br /> “Beg to me on your knees, you whore’s son!”<br /> <br /> Those words burned. Ever since they had found out that my mother worked nights, they kept calling her a whore and a tart. Had I been me on my own, I would have struck at Philip and to hell with what they did to me – but I was not just responsible for me now. I had promised Jason. Burying what little self-esteem I had left deep inside, I got down on one knee.<br /> <br /> “Lower!” shouted Philip, and with well-rehearsed precision, a boot from one of his henchmen in the middle of my back threw me to the floor; smacking my face into the concrete floor. My lip was bleeding, and I was stunned.<br /> <br /> “G...give him back the plane. Please.........” I cried.<br /> <br /> “Lick my boots, you son of a bitch!” he replied.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you.....” I whispered. But then I heard the creak of plastic, and as if on cue – another whimper from Jason. I turned my head to look towards the door. I think Jason was more worried by my condition than by his plane, but I had promised him. I smiled softly at him. I did not want him to see me like this, but he wouldn’t leave me either. I moved my head towards Philip’s mud covered shoes. Shutting my eyes, I began to lick the putrid mud from them. <br /> <br /> “Swallow!” ordered Philip. How I so wanted to strike back, but I couldn’t. I swallowed!<br /> <br /> “Now bark like a dog!”<br /> <br /> “W...w....what?” I coughed<br /> <br /> “Bark!”<br /> <br /> Tears began to fill my eyes. I could not let that pass. I wanted to have my revenge on Philip, once my promise had been kept. Trying fairly unsuccessfully to hold back my tears and the nausea of the mud in my stomach, I began to growl in my throat.<br /> <br /> “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”<br /> <br /> “That’s better,” smirked Philip, “Get him!”<br /> <br /> With what I assume had been their plan all along, all of them swarmed around me. Kicking me in the stomach and the ribs. Philip just watched, smirking. Then they pinned down my arms and legs. I just managed to twist my head painfully towards Jason, and shout, “Run!”<br /> <br /> That was the last thing I remember. I awoke in hospital with three broken ribs, concussion and too many cuts and bruises to recall. Thankfully, in his eagerness to attack me, Philip had actually dropped Jason’s plane undamaged. Before running away to get help, Jason, with the impeccable priorities of an eight year old, had picked up that bloody plane first. My promise had been kept. I had got broken instead.<br /> <br /> Was this the end of things? No. Philip and two of his accomplices, Leo and Paul, had been suspended by the teacher who had eventually found me, lying unconscious on the cloakroom floor. Their suspension was to prove nearly fatal for me.<br /> <br /> I went back to school after a week or so. I probably should have waited longer, but I didn’t want to leave Jason there alone. Before, they just used to pick on him to get to me, but now he was becoming a target in his own right. It was with some amazing irony that in our school’s passion play, I was cast as Jesus, because of my blond hair. (Why Jesus’ tend to be blond at school when he was Jewish I still haven’t quite understood). Philip and his gang were Romans. When I was hoisted onto the cross, with only a tatty loincloth and crown of thorns to protect my modesty – I had to mutter the words “Forgive them for they do not know what they do!” I even smiled to myself, thinking that they knew exactly what they were doing. They couldn’t even resist jabbing the wooden spear into my side with more force than was necessary at the climax of the play.<br /> <br /> It was about a week after I returned that I was attacked again. I was walking home alone from school. Jason was staying at one of his friend’s houses. I had to pass a wooded coppice. It was still quite wintry, and it was dark. I had almost passed the wood when a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the bushes. This was probably the most terrifying experience of my life. I thought I was about to be raped. My arms were pulled tightly behind me, so much so that I could feel my shoulder blades pressing on my spine.<br /> <br /> “Stop it, you’re hurting me!” I cried, which with hindsight was probably the worst thing to say as that was exactly what they wanted to do. They pushed down on my neck, forcing my head into the ground. I was then spun around onto my back, and a hand clasped around my throat. In the twilight I could just about distinguish three figures.<br /> <br /> “Do you know what we do to little snitches? We cut them up!” hissed the man holding me down. I recognised the voice. It was Philip’s older brother, and I assumed his brother’s army buddies. The brother must have been at least nineteen, and against the three of them I had no means of fighting back.<br /> <br /> “Please don’t hurt me” I cried.<br /> <br /> “It’s too late for that. You’re going to die!” replied the silhouetted figure. From his pocket, I saw him pull out a large kitchen knife. The blade flashed in the moonlight. Agonising slowly, he brought it to rest on my face.<br /> <br /> “Hey, shall we cut him a new mouth first?” taunted the brother. He stroked my cheeks and chin with the point of the knife. It almost tickled, but I wasn’t laughing.<br /> <br /> “Nah,” replied one of his friends. “Just kill the bastard and we can go home”. I froze at those words. It is true that your whole life does flash before you. Mainly in a way of bitter-sweet memories. You think of the decisions you could have made differently, and that you will never make anymore. Philip’s brother raised the knife above my chest. I knew I was about to die. In a strange way, I almost felt like shouting for them to get on with it, rather than taunt me first. Then I thought of my Mother, and Jason. I couldn’t leave them. Then in an instant I saw the blade flash downwards. I shut my eyes, and probably squealed like a baby. <br /> <br /> “Just kill me quick” I thought. Thud! The knife plunged into the mud next to me. Laughing cruelly, the three men just walked off into the night. Rather than killing me, it was far more sporting to leave me living with this memory. I lay there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Shaking and crying – I got to my feet, and stumbled the rest of my way home. The house was empty and dark. I opened the door, walked in, pushing the door behind me as I went. I stood momentarily in the dark hall, then after throwing my bag across the room I collapsed onto the carpet – screaming, crying and kicking the floor. Once I had got all the fear, pain and relief out of my system, I just laid there all night, gazing at the door in silence. My Mum found me in the morning. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I just said that I was picked on at school again, saving her the true details.<br /> <br /> By now I was an emotional wreck. The only highlight was I had met a girl. Sarah hung around our local shop where her Mum worked, and we had been talking on and off for a few weeks. She finally agreed to go to the cinema with me. Alas, nemesis was not far away. Because of my mood swings and bruises, my school had informed the social services in the belief that my mother had been neglectful. I protested and said it was bullying at the school – but the headmaster was a close friend with the social services director – both being members of the local Masonic Lodge. They decided that I should be taken into care!<br /> <br /> With this threat hanging over me, Sarah and I went to the seaside for a picnic to take my mind off it. We climbed up a hill to see the view. We eventually got to the top, and the view was great – in front of us was the sea and behind were miles and miles of beautiful hills, bathed in late afternoon sunlight. It is quite probably the most beautiful site I have ever scene. I was, at this period, in terrible mess. I barely remember much from this time. I was mixed up, depressed, drinking alcohol under-age, and was even suicidal. Sitting on this hill, gazing over the lovely scenery – it was all too much for me. Silent tears poured down my face.<br /> <br /> Soon after this time, I was taken into care, sent to Ravenstower Young Persons’ Institute in Clayton. Jason was now left to fend for himself. My first day at the Institute arrived and I hurriedly tried to packed what few possessions I could into a suitcase to take with me. I said a sad farewell to my Mother and Jason, then walked to the bus stop. Little did we know that they would never see me again. Sarah had promised to visit me as often as possible. Clayton was only 15 miles from where she lived and bus was direct.<br /> I looked out of the bus window at the world flashing by, wondering what sort of life the rest of the world was living. I supposed that some were happy, while some were sad. There were probably many sad people out there, more miserable than me, perhaps? <br /> <br /> I eventually reached our destination. There behind impressive iron gates was the main building – even though it was only a few years old, and built in an impressive location near the beach – it still had a bleak deadness to it. Impossible to describe exactly, just a feeling. It was also likely to be my home until I became an adult. Apparently it had been built on waste land by the council on the site of an old manor house, derelict and burnt to the ground a decade before. Not a good omen.<br /> <br /> I entered the lobby and rang the bell. A tall and very thin woman slid out of an office at the far end of the corridor and glided towards me with a pair of old-fashioned pinching spectacles perched precariously on the end of her hawk-like nose.<br /> <br /> &quot;What is your name boy?&quot; squawked the Hawk Lady.<br /> <br /> &quot;Curtis... Curtis Brookes.&quot; I replied nervously. <br /> <br /> &quot;Ah yes, young Brookes. We've been expecting you. Come with me and I will introduce you to the department head. Hurry up! Can't stand here all day!&quot; and with that she grabbed my arm and pulled me along the passage towards a door at the far end. She rapped on the door, and I heard a muffled voice call out.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's there?&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;It's Miss Gutteridge. I have the new boy here - Curtis Brookes. Can we come in?&quot;<br /> <br /> There was a grunt from behind the door, and slowly the Hawk Lady pushed it open to reveal a dark office that stank of musty old cigars. From behind a desk, piled high in papers peered a wizened old man, who spoke in the wheezing voice of a heavy smoker.<br /> <br /> &quot;What have we here? He's a fine young specimen. He'll be useful. Come closer boy.&quot; <br /> <br /> As I approached his desk, I could see the hunched figure more clearly. I thought he looked more like an ape than a man. <br /> <br /> “Hmmm.. this boy has potential. I’m glad he has come to our august institution. We will make a man of him!” exclaimed the man as he reached across his desk and patted me on the shoulder. <br /> <br /> &quot;Shall I show Brookes to his dorm now?&quot; asked the Hawk Lady.<br /> <br /> &quot;Yes, yes all right then!&quot; snapped the headmaster, who then turned to me, staring straight into my eyes, and spoke quietly. <br /> <br /> &quot;I welcome you to the Ravenstower Institution and I hope you will fit in here young Brookes. This is a proud establishment and I don't appreciate those boys who don't join in and who don't do as they are told. We have had pupils here who thought that life was one long game, but they have lived to regret that now, poor souls.&quot; <br /> <br /> As he finished he looked mournfully out of the window towards the large woods that backed onto the school's grounds. I felt my heart thump in my throat and I longed to leave that creepy office. Thankfully, the Hawk Lady then led me out and back down the corridor. <br /> <br /> I was dragged along winding stair cases and dark passages until finally we arrived at my dormitory. Inside were rows of beds; more reminiscent of a barrack block than a school. <br /> <br /> &quot;Here is your dorm. You can have that bed by the window. I'm afraid you've missed dinner and it's lights out at nine!&quot; and with that the Hawk Lady promptly left, slamming the door behind her. The room was full of eyes, all of which were staring directly at me. For nearly a minute no one said anything until the silence was finally broken when one of the boys spoke.<br /> <br /> &quot;Whoever you are, you need to know the rules of this dorm. My name's Wesley, and this is my dorm. Everyone here does what I say, and that includes you!&quot; <br /> <br /> I didn't know what to say in reply, so I just shrugged my shoulders and walked briskly towards my bed. This was a huge mistake, as my lack of subservience to that adolescent despot was too much for his inflated ego to handle and I suddenly found myself under a scrum of his loyal cronies. My bag was pulled from me, and its contents poured all over the floor, whereupon everyone stole what they thought might be of some value. I was stopped from getting it back when the two tallest gang members grabbed my arms and forced me against the wall. The ring leader, Wesley, then began to repeatedly punch me in the stomach and face. I guess it was my lot in life to be bullied. After a few minutes Wesley grunted. <br /> <br /> &quot;I hope you've learnt your lesson!&quot;, and with that I was dropped on the ground.<br /> <br /> I managed to crawl over and gather up what were left of my scattered belongings. I felt like crying, but I knew I dared not. That would only bring about another drubbing; but I cried inside. I had cried all my life - inside!<br /> <br /> That was it for that day, and soon it was time to go to sleep. I climbed into my bed, from where I could see the large woods through the window, with the evening sun glistening on the sea beyond. I thought that it must be very spooky out there at night - the sort of place that Wesley and the Headmaster would be well suited. A place for demons, goblins and monsters.<br /> <br /> I thought to myself that Wesley must be deranged in some way to have such a sadistic personality problem, much like Philip Miles had been – but I was to discover a whole new depth of pain at Wesley’s hand. It wasn't so much that he was a bully or a gang leader, but it was the way his eyes lit up when he was inflicting pain. When my lip was bleeding following his last punch, he seemed to overflow with ecstasy. It was only his thugs who persuaded him that I had been hurt enough, as further injuries would arouse the suspicions of the staff. It was something about Wesley's eyes that stuck in my mind. They seemed hollow and cold. The Headmaster had the same sort of sunken eyes. I decided to keep my distance from Wesley and the Headmaster from now on.<br /> <br /> Things eased off slightly for the next few days, but Wesley still held sway in my dorm, and apparently in some of the other dorms as well. He somehow had the ability to frighten the other boys into doing what he wanted. He was the leader of the pack, the alpha male. He wasn't especially tall or stocky. He was only my age, and had thick brown hair. His only distinguishing features were his eyes. They were horrible, and they had a manner of cold hardness that infected the other boys as if he could hypnotise them. I hated Wesley. He was evil. He was a beast!<br /> <br /> It was a bright, autumn day. The morning lessons had just finished and we had an hour-long lunch break before the afternoon session. Whilst the other boys were playing football over on the playground, I was walking alone on the field near the dark woods. We had been told not to go anywhere near there under any circumstances, even during Games lessons when a teacher was present! <br /> <br /> This edict was too much for any self-respecting teenage boy to endure. When the teacher on duty wasn't looking, I managed to sneak up to the edge of the woods and peer through the trees. I could just make out a six foot high wooden fence about hundred yards away. Behind it were even more trees, eventually leading into open moorlands up Clayton Hill to the left – and the sea to the right. There was nothing else to do that lunch time, so when no one was looking I managed to sneak out to have a look around. <br /> <br /> I had always lived in towns before, so the experience of the woods was new for me. All the new smells and noises were fascinating. Even the beams of sunlight dancing through the yellow leaves were magic. I know that may sound rather over the top somewhat, but it really was a terrific new experience for me. I didn't want to leave, I felt at home there - far more than in my old home. It didn't feel at all scary during the day, unlike at night. <br /> <br /> After about ten minutes of wandering aimlessly around daydreaming, I heard the sound of crunching twigs. I turned around, and saw a crouched figure loping along about twenty feet in front of me. It looked like the accursed Wesley, and he appeared to be in a hurry, so I bounded after him, sure that he was up to no good as usual.<br /> <br /> I tried to keep up with him but he disappeared behind a small clump of trees. When I reached the bushes there was no sign of him. I was sure that he had spotted me and had doubled back. I pondered what I should do, and decided to have it just one last look. Was that him rustling that nearby bush? As I bounded over to investigate I tripped over a stump and cut my hand on a sharp stone. Blood poured from the surprisingly deep wound. I thought that it might get infected so I reluctantly left my new found paradise and wandered back to the cloakroom to wash my hands. <br /> <br /> What had Wesley been doing in the woods? Perhaps he had a hide-out there where he stashed fags or alcohol he had stolen from the mentor and teacher's common room. Nothing would have surprised me. He was capable of anything! <br /> <br /> I washed the clotted blood and mud from my hands. My hand still hurt, and wouldn't stop bleeding. I bound it in a handkerchief, and shoved it in my pocket. The lunch break had just finished, and my next lesson was about to start. Being right handed I could keep my cut left hand concealed under the desk, away from the teacher's gaze. By doing this I managed to get through the last two lessons of the day without it being noticed, and it was time to go back to the dorms for the evening.<br /> <br /> Wesley was there with his gang of thugs, but they seemed not to notice me. They were discussing something between themselves, something that seemed to make them quite excited. Wesley didn't even mention his encounter with me in the woods. Perhaps he hadn't seen me? Perhaps it hadn't been him out there at all? <br /> <br /> I scribbled down my homework, and then read a book for about an hour or two before going to bed. My hand had slightly healed, but a thin trickle of blood still seeped from the wound. My once white handkerchief was now sodden with blood, so I hid it under the bed. From biology I knew that saliva could make blood clot, so I sucked my hand hoping that it would dry up before I fell asleep. If I got blood on my bedclothes then the teasing about it being my &quot;time of the month&quot; and &quot;why didn't I wear women's panties?&quot; would be insufferable. <br /> <br /> I had never tasted blood in this quantity before. Sure I have had cut lips and the like, but this was a constant flow. I kept on sucking and licking it. It was warm and sweet. I enjoyed it. To my surprise and even shock, I found myself biting my hand to keep the wound open. I almost felt a feeling of disappointment when it finally healed up around midnight. By now my mouth was ruby red, and I rather fancied myself as Dracula or Nosferatu. If I was a true vampire then I could really scare Wesley. He would probably wet himself or better, and then everyone would laugh at him. His authority would be left in tatters. I could have my revenge.<br /> <br /> My normal school day consisted off standard lessons of the main curriculum, games lessons and also what were termed corrective measures. This was primarily being sat on the floor in a large empty room and being shown videos on a projection screen about the evils of anit-social behaviour, drugs, alcohol, sex - you name it, it was there. Why we were subjected to chastisement when many of us were not delinquents but simply victims of others aggression seemed to escape the minds of the power that be, but I soon discovered a darker methodology at work there.<br /> <br /> I was convinced that the educational videos held subliminal messages, too fast to read, but occasionally were glimpsed. These sessions were always immediately preceded by lunch and proceeded by physical education. Lunch was always a revolting, Dickensian slop. Apparently it was packed full of vitamins and other healthy additives. I suspected this was just the tip of iceberg.<br /> <br /> Games lessons normally revolved around punishing circuit training and body building. No team sports. I preferred the indoor lessons, at least we were out of the damp air and all the mosquitoes. Some boys had been bitten raw by them, living in the marshy land between Ravenstower and the sea.<br /> <br /> The next few days passed without serious incident, except that Wesley continued to taunt me. He also seemed hyped up about something else. He would sit up in bed at night just looking out of the window. I think I was the only one who noticed this. Everyone else was usually asleep. Only Wesley and I couldn't sleep properly. Our beds both faced the window and the bright moonlight streamed in, casting long shadows and highlighting every crack in the wall. There were no curtains, not since previous pupils had set fire to them. Wesley never looked at me, but only out of the window, so I don't think he knew that I was watching him. But I was, every night, planning my revenge. <br /> <br /> How I hated him! He was a tyrant. Kicking chairs over and smashing cups. He even urinated over me once when we were both in the lavatory. It was also him who had ended up with most of my stolen most of my possessions on the first day, and there was no way I could get them back. But I would get him and he was going to be very sorry. <br /> <br /> The following night, Wesley seemed especially restless. He sat for a couple of hours, even after lights out, not paying attention to anyone. But when everyone else was asleep, he quietly climbed out of bed, still fully dressed, and opened the window. Using the old drainpipe that ran next to our dorm's wall, he managed to climb to the ground and ran of into the night. <br /> Once I had heard him drop to the ground, I crept out of bed and looked out of the window to see where he was going. The moon was bright, almost full, so it was not too difficult to make out his lumbering shape heading towards the woods. <br /> <br /> I thought to myself that he must be heading for his shack, to get a quick fix of alcohol, wacky baccy or porn. Whatever it was, it wasn't my problem. I climbed back into bed, and wondered why anyone would willingly go into the woods at night. During the daylight was fine, but at night - who knows what was out there? I settled back into bed, and soon was asleep.<br /> <br /> The next day, a strange procession creaked its way into town. At least ten assorted caravans and trucks, some mechanised, some horse-drawn rambled their way along. I peered out of the dorm window through the rain and gloom at the faded signs on the sides of the vehicles and his heart thumped in excitement. The circus had come to town! It was Saturday, and we were allowed a limited freedom to venture into town. I was not going to miss this opportunity. <br /> <br /> The caravans arrived at the empty field at the top end of town, on a slight rise overlooking the bay and the town itself. Clayton was the epitome of a small town at the end of a railway line, except that even trains stopped going there now. The town was drab and tired, nestled between the sea and the towering Claw Hill behind. Most of the buildings were in poor repair and half the shops had closed since the last factory went bust in the recent economic recession and unemployment was high. The circus would be a welcome distraction. I signed out from the dorm register and went to the public phone box at the end of the lane.<br /> <br /> “Hi Curtis” said Sarah, picking up the phone.<br /> <br /> “Hi Honey” I replied “The circus is in Clayton, just down the road from me. Want to go?”<br /> <br /> “No thanks. I’m against them, they are cruel to their animals. They should be banned!”<br /> <br /> “Oh no, it’s a people only circus. I asked one of the people as they were setting up camp. He reassured me that they no animals at all, and their show was just human performers and volunteers from the audience.” I stated.<br /> <br /> “Still sounds a bit corny. Can we go to the cinema afterwards then?” asked Sarah.<br /> <br /> “If you want…” I replied in resignation. “Can I ring Jason and ask him to come…?”<br /> <br /> “NO! Why do you always have to try and take your kid brother with us? You know what they say, two’s company, three is….” She said sternly.<br /> <br /> “Ok, ok, I just feel responsible for him since Dad left. Meet you at 6.30. Luv ya.” And I replaced the receiver.<br /> <br /> That afternoon, Sarah arrived on the bus and we wandered down to the circus field. The area was packed. Most of Clayton seemed to be there, jostling about to look at the attractions. It wasn’t just the main tent to see, but a number of caravan and stalls. It really looked like some Victorian freak show; but in the 21st century such things were the preserve of Hollywood Horror. The circus fair reflected Clayton very well. It was shabby and crumbling. Paint peeled off the caravans and most of the staff looked as if they needed a shave and a bath, and that was just the women!<br /> <br /> “What happened to your hand?” said Sarah, concerned, pointing to my bandage.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I just cut it during games.” I said nonchalantly. <br /> <br /> We walked over to one of the stalls, where a small crowd was gathering. It was a new take on the coconut throwing game, but instead of coconuts there were rubber skulls on the spikes. <br /> <br /> “A bit weird.” I thought.<br /> <br /> Then my heart skipped a beat. Three of Wesley’s cronies, dressed in hooded tops and acting the fools, turned up at the same stall. They started chucking the wooden balls at the skulls. After repeated strikes, the skulls still refused to shift. Angrily, they complained to the stall holder.<br /> <br /> “This is fixed. Those bloody things are glued.”<br /> <br /> “No sir, this is a fair game” replied the stall holder as he effortlessly lifted each skull to show there was no glue. “perhaps you would care to discuss this with the manager”.<br /> <br /> “Nah, crummy fair anyway.” Replied the youth and walked off. However, the stall holder called after him. <br /> <br /> “Sir, we don’t want any bad feelings here. If you see the manager I’m sure he will give you some free tickets for the circus.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, why not!” replied the youth, and he and his companions followed the stall holder behind the tent into one of the caravans. After only a few seconds, the stall holder re-emerged smiling. The youths obviously were still inside, discussing things with the manager.<br /> <br /> “Curtis, I bet you could win a prize.” flattered Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Three balls please.” I said to the stall holder, handing him the requisite fee.<br /> <br /> “Thank you sir!”<br /> <br /> I took aim, and threw the balls in rapid succession. The first missed, the second struck the base but the third connected sweetly and the skull wobbled, teetered for a moment and then fell to the ground.<br /> <br /> “Well done sir. Here’s your prize.”<br /> <br /> He handed me a large cuddly toy gorilla, which I promptly thrust to Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Happy now?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Oh yes,” she replied “and he looks just like you.”<br /> <br /> We continued to look around the fair and circus. The acrobatic display was impressive, but the clowns were more sinister than funny. The Sun was setting over the brow of Clayton Hill (or Claw Hill as the locals called it) casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse of Claw Hill had blighted the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend; but this was far from the truth.<br /> <br /> It was evening, and I was walking back to Ravenstower from the bus stop, having seen Sarah safely on to the bus. Curfew was 9pm, so I had to walk briskly. The walk back took me across the edge of the fields at the foot of Claw Hill. Creepy though this route was, I was far less bothered by ancient legends than by the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, which my alternative route would have taken me past. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and I walked confidently albeit briskly. The legend of the Evil Gnome of Claw Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally see him, you will wish you staid at home… On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally meet him, you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> This was the creepy story was about the infamous ‘Evil Gnome’ – the ghost of Orak, a deformed hermit who’s ghost had terrorised Clayton after he had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his ‘execution’, the ghost on Claw Hill started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Any adults caught on Claw Hill after dark were simply driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken. I didn’t believe the stories, but thought it would make a good movie one day.<br /> <br /> The twigs cracked under my trainers as I continued on. I was now at the highest point of the path on Claw Hill slopes, and it was thickly wooded, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. There was rustling in the undergrowth to my left. It sounded like the type of noise made by a poorly paid horror movie sound technician to imitate some sort of demon waiting to pounce. I was unmoved, assuming it was a badger or something equally innocent. I did quicken my pace however. I was nearing the light again, and soon the lights of the village would guide me back.<br /> <br /> “Ouch!” I cried.<br /> <br /> Something small and sharp struck me in the neck. It felt like a wasp sting, but at night? I reached up, and pulled a small thorn from my skin. It was impossible to make out clearly what it was in the dark, so I flicked it away and rubbed my neck. There was small lump where the thorn had pierced the flesh, but no significant pain. <br /> <br /> “Bloody mosquitoes” I moaned, and trotted on.<br /> <br /> The next morning, I overslept until mid-morning – feeling quite lethargic. Fortunately it was Sunday, but for me it was unusual. The dorm was empty. I crawled out of bed and wandered into the washroom. My jaw dropped when I looked into the mirror. The lump on my neck had turned black and was now about two inches in diameter. It was also numb to the touch. After splashing my face, I raced back to his room and dressed. My hand had also started bleeding again, which didn't help. I was starting to think that I was more of a stigmatic than a vampire. <br /> <br /> When I got downstairs, I could hear the buzz of excited discussion. Apparently the three hooded boys who I had seen at the circus had not come back last night – and gone on the run. The police had been informed but so far they had eluded capture. Wesley was already in the dining room, grinning from ear to ear, and looking straight at me. I tried to ignore him, and sat down in a corner. I hadn't any friends to talk to, but I didn't care. They were all scum like Wesley! For a change, Wesley said and did nothing to me for the whole day - until early that evening. <br /> <br /> At dinner time, I was sitting in the corner on my own again, gulping down my soup, when Wesley stood up and walked straight up to my table without any provocation. I tried to ignore him, but he picked up my glass and poured the contents into my soup. I sprang out of my chair to punch him, but he just pushed me back down. There were no teachers in the hall, and everyone else were too scared of Wesley and his cronies to call out. Wesley then leaned down towards me and whispered in my ear. <br /> <br /> &quot;I will make you wish that you had never been born!&quot; and he raised his hand and brought it down on my face, slashing my cheek with his fingernails. He drew blood and I yelped in pain. He then stood up, smiled, turned on his heels and walked calmly back to his table. The room was silent! I was shaken, but said nothing. I ran to the toilet, so that they wouldn't see me cry... <br /> How could my life get any worse? But my most shameful experience still lay in store. Confined with Wesley and all in a dormitory, with no means of escape – was beyond terror. Previously I had only been beaten, now I was to be tortured. <br /> <br /> It was after dinner, and all the teachers were on the terrace smoking and drinking. So much for being role models? I was left alone in my dorm with my tormentors. On the stroke of eight, when they knew the teachers’ movement patterns, virtually the whole dorm of hormone pumped teenage boys encircled my bed. I was sitting there, trying to ignore them. <br /> <br /> Without a word, Wesley’s usual cronies rushed forward and pulled me onto the floor. Someone yanked off my shoes, whilst numerous hands grabbed my t-shirt and forcibly ripped it off me in pieces. I was dragged to one of the empty bunks, and my wrists and ankles were tied with parcel tape to the bedposts, impossible to break. Wesley strode forward, and grabbing my hair – yanked my head back, straining me to look up at him. Without saying a word, he spat in my face, and then let go. He then produced a broom handle that had been hidden behind one of the bunks. Putting it behind my back, he said coldly, “Whore boy is going to get buggered.” and he forced the end of the broom handle into the seat of my jeans. The pain grew as my jeans began to push in and split. I could not believe what was happening. I begged the other boys to help – but they all stood there; apparently enjoying the show. Just as the unthinkable was about to happen, Wesley pulled the broom back out. Walking around to look me in the face, he muttered:<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I did not reply. How did he know about my mother working nights? It was so unfair, all over again.<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> Still I didn’t reply. Then, out of his jacket pocket, he produced a petrol cigarette lighter. Igniting it, he moved it towards my face. For the third time, he said <br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I spat back in his face and shouted “Your mother is a fucking whore!” <br /> <br /> Suddenly, he thrust the flame under my left arm. I screamed and squirmed as my skin blistered. The rest of boys I think were becoming unnerved by now. He had gone beyond the pale. Wesley was mad. Whilst still holding the flame under my arm, he said coldly and calmly “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> The pain was intense, even nauseous. I could not take it any more. Sobbing, I whimpered “My mother is a fucking whore....” <br /> <br /> I still feel ashamed for giving in, but what else could I do? I was eventually cut free by the guilty faced crowd. Of course I went to the teachers. The huge blistered burn on my arm and my torn clothing was proof enough but they still did nothing. It was useless, I had to take matters into my own hands!<br /> <br /> I had planned what my revenge would be. I decided that I would follow Wesley into the woods one night, and discover what he was up to. I would then tell the Headmaster and the Hawk Lady, and hopefully he would be expelled, and be out of my life forever! <br /> <br /> It was late, and the warden called for lights out. I pretended to be already asleep, but I was still dressed, in preparation for my confrontation with Wesley in the woods. <br /> At about quarter to midnight, Wesley slowly clambered out of his bed, walked to the window, and was soon away down the drain pipe. Once he was gone, I got up and followed him. It was a full moon tonight, so I could easily find my way down to ground. I was worried about leaving blood stains on the whitewashed walls from my bandaged hand. It still hadn't healed dammit! <br /> <br /> Gingerly, I picked my way across the sports field, following Wesley towards the woods. It wasn't long before I was close to him. He had stopped in a clearing a few yards into the woods, and was bathed in moonlight. I crouched down and watched to see what he would do. Clumsily, I trod on a twig and made the loudest 'quiet' sound I had ever heard. Wesley spun round. <br /> “Who’s there?” he cried, in a hoarse voice that I almost didn’t recognise. I didn’t reply, so he walked deeper into the woods. I followed! <br /> <br /> My eagerness out did me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was crashing through the undergrowth, and straight into Wesley, who had stopped walking. He jumped in fright, and then looked to see what had hit him. When he saw it was me, his eyes burned with rage and fear. <br /> “Curtis! Why are you...[Cough]...out here?” <br /> <br /> “Following you. Seeing what you’re up to.” I replied. I could see that Wesley looked in pain, and his voice was definitely different - as if he had a sore throat. <br /> <br /> “So...you’re not here because of the Urge?” wheezed Wesley. <br /> “What urge? What are you talking about?” <br /> <br /> “Haven’t you noticed? Haven’t you felt strange sensations you’ve never felt before? [Cough] I was like you when I first arrived here, but now look at me. I’m an animal - disliked by everyone!” <br /> <br /> This wasn’t the Wesley I knew and hated. He was different; frightened! <br /> <br /> “It.. it must be the headmaster. I’m sure he’s put something in the [Cough] water, or our food, or even the air - to change us! First it’s just a feeling of restlessness... but then the urge builds and builds. [Cough] I often come out here to try and ease the pain. It sometimes works but not tonight! I tried to tell my parents, but they just laughed. No one’s parents believe them either. Their too busy to care anyway. Other boys have disappeared before now, and no one’s said anything! Didn’t you hear about them at the circus? They are all in on it. Perhaps the govern..[Cough]..ment is involved.” <br /> <br /> “What planet are you on?” I replied coolly, “You’re making this up.” <br /> <br /> “I’m not!” roared Wesley, but as the words slipped out of his mouth, he fell to the ground and started to shake violently. <br /> <br /> “Stop play acting” I said, “You’re not impressing anyone!” <br /> <br /> My manner altered upon looking at the crouching figure. I could see that something was wrong, different. Wesley was changing, growing! I stared in horror. All sense of reality was draining from my mind. After a minute or so, what had once been a boy was now something quite different. Something terrible!<br /> <br /> I began to run, as the creature that had once been Wesley sniffed the air. Was it the blood from my hand that was attracting it. The scratches on my face, the lump on my neck and blister on my arm all burned and itched terribly. <br /> <br /> A few seconds later the beast gave chase, running faster than I could ever hope to match. At that time I had no idea of what I had just seen, but I knew that it was after my blood. <br /> Just as I thought I couldn’t run any further, I noticed a sharp branch lying on the ground. Thinking it could be a possible weapon, I picked it up and prepared to face my pursuer. Moments later the creature burst out of the undergrowth, and leapt straight at me. I raised the stick – by sheer luck striking the beast in the side of the neck. Its own momentum jerked the stick out of my hands, ripping the wound wide open.<br /> <br /> The creature momentarily roared in pain and then fell down dead. I also dropped to my knees, trying to catch my breath. As I looked across at the creature, I could see that it was much larger than a man, and covered in hair? No, fur! Its ghastly features twisted further by its violent death. There is only one description I can use for it - a werewolf! <br /> <br /> As I looked on, I could see it mutating slowly, back into the familiar form of Wesley, only naked, bloody and dead. I have to admit now that I was terrified.<br /> <br /> The whole scene was bathed in moonlight, and I suddenly felt wonderful. Even better than during my first saunter into the woods. I raised my head, tears pouring from my eyes, arched my back and gave out a loud cry of joy, totally oblivious to anyone who might hear me. <br /> <br /> I looked down again, and saw the crumpled shape of Wesley, my fallen opponent; my prey, helpless infront of me. I sensed the blood and longed for its sweet taste on my lips. However, I suddenly became aware of approaching footsteps. Someone must have heard us fighting, and had come to investigate. Then from behind a tree, a figure appeared. It was the headmaster; he must have followed us out. <br /> <br /> “Brookes - is that you? I never expected one of our newest students to show such early promise!” he said in a jovial tone, but when he saw the fallen figure at my feet his voice became icy. <br /> <br /> “You killed it! You killed it!” he screamed, “My boy - you killed my boy. All my hard work has gone to waste.” <br /> <br /> I was horrified by his words. Could Wesley have been right all the time? Was the headmaster really behind the strange sensations that we had been experiencing - turning the boys into bullies and then beasts? Was he using the cover of a care home to perfect his vile experiments on boys who would not be missed? <br /> <br /> “Stay where you are Brookes! By the process of natural selection, you have proved yourself to be a worthy successor.” <br /> <br /> I didn't really hear his words, they didn't interest me anymore. I turned back to look at Wesley lying on the ground. Out of the side of his torn neck protruded the stick that had saved my life. The warm, sticky blood seeped from the wound, and trickled into the mud. How I so wanted to taste it, to be one with it - the ecstasy that it would give me! <br /> <br /> I could now feel the urge growing inside me. I had never felt like this before. It was a strange feeling, but I wasn’t sure for what. Blood? Hatred? Sex? Freedom? Revenge? I just couldn't be certain. <br /> <br /> The headmaster had now been joined by some teachers. He had started laughing, and beckoning me to come to him. How dare he! He was evil, and had to be stopped. Who knows what he had planned for me? <br /> <br /> I ran towards him, arms out stretched. He must have thought I was submitting - but at the last moment I sprang in the air, landing upon him and knocking him over. Before I knew what I was doing, I had thumped my fist into his throat. I kept doing it until I heard his neck crack. He groaned for a moment, and then lay still. He had deserved it - he was a monster! I was simply the avenging angel. <br /> <br /> I knew that I must get away from there; from the scene of my revenge, or otherwise I would be punished! I had been punished enough! I had been punished everyday since my parents divorced! I was never going through that again. <br /> <br /> With animal instinct I turned on my heels and fled towards the nearby moors. I ran and ran, never looking back. Soon I was deep in the woods, and the teachers had lost sight of me. I crouched behind a small bush and growled quietly to myself. <br /> <br /> I wasn't Curtis Brookes any more. I never wanted to be that puny boy ever again. His existence had crushed my true being and I wanted out! I longed to rid myself of his legacy forever! I could see that the humans had detected my position and were running towards where I was hiding. I had to flee, and in one bound I had cleared the wooden fence that marked the border with the moors and the wilderness beyond. Now I was free of humanity and its many cruelties. I was free!<br /> <br /> It was very, very dark. Only the strange orange moon cast any light upon my surroundings. In front of me I could see what looked like a dense, gloomy forest – stretching away into the infinite distance, totally obliterating the horizon beyond. On all sides, its mass of twisted branches and knotted trunks wreaked of foreboding and unhappiness. Yet, for some deep unknown reason, I felt drawn towards it; compelled by my own subconscious! The forest looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it exactly. It was as if I saw that forest every day, but I was sure I had never been there before.<br /> <br /> “You are confused my child.” came a calm voice from behind me.<br /> <br /> I spun around to see a small, ugly dwarf – dressed in black, with a strange, pale face. His eyes were red and slanted, and his teeth pointed.<br /> <br /> “W.....who are you?” I stammered, feeling a little scared. <br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m nobody Curtis. A bit like you really. Just a figment of a fantastic imagination.” replied the strange dwarf menacingly.<br /> <br /> “What?” I asked. <br /> <br /> “You’ll understand in time – my boy. You have been selected and you have a task to perform.”<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone.” I cried, beginning to tentatively step backwards. <br /> <br /> “Don’t worry Curtis. You’ll understand in time.” repeated the demonic dwarf. “Just walk deeper into the forest. That’s all.”<br /> <br /> My clothes suddenly began to feel too tight. My jeans choked my legs as if they were swelling, but I tried to ignore the discomfort.<br /> <br /> “Go on, tell me more.” I said to the old dwarf. <br /> <br /> “First you must eat.” Replied the old man, and threw a chunk of raw meat to me. Without hesitation, I began to bite into the dripping flesh. It made my stomach gurgle and bloat. I pulled up my sweatshirt and gasped. The pale skin on my stomach was stretched and translucent. Underneath, my muscles rippled and writhed. Huge dark veins pulsed and slithered visibly below the surface. I felt sick. It was as if my torso resembled a giant maggot. My stomach bulged against my belt and jeans, dilating with every heartbeat. I tucked my t-shirt back into my jeans and continued to eat.<br /> <br /> My feet really ached. I sat down on a tree stump and pulled off my shoes and socks. Rubbing my feet, they felt swollen and numb. With great difficulty I pulled my socks and shoes back on and shook my head. I could not bring any words to my lips. I turned away from the dwarf’s blazing red eyes, to look once again at the dark forest. It was so terrifying, yet spellbindingly beautiful at the same time.<br /> <br /> “Go on Curtis. Go on.” spoke the red-eyed man softly.<br /> <br /> Hearing the words resonate through my skull - I began to tentatively step towards the forest, not noticing the brown sticky mud and knotted grass all around. It was only another few steps when I came to a stop. I had finally noticed the sticky mud on my shoes, but now my way was blocked by a wide pool, or was it a river, of oozing black mud. Although I felt no heat, the mud bubbled and spat like a volcanic vent. I looked around for the strange dwarf, but he was gone. Turning back, I looked across the mud towards the forest....... My forest, my home! This accursed river of mud, this restraint on my true being was blocking me, choking me, crushing me!<br /> I raised my foot from the bank, lifting it towards the oozing river. It was then that the grass around me grew quickly, spurting from the ground like tentacles, grabbing around my calf, pulling my leg back.<br /> <br /> “Nooo! I want to go!” I cried, snatching at the grassy vines. I continued to struggle until the vines snapped. Once broken, they faded away, and as they did – so did the sky behind me, leaving nothing but blackness. I had to go on! Letting out a deep, guttural roar – I dived into the mud. <br /> <br /> The mud was slightly warm after all. It soothed me, caressed me, held me. It flowed slowly inside my sodden clothes, and caressed my skin. I felt wonderful. Never before had I experienced love and tenderness on this level before. I didn’t want to leave. It was safe here. It was home now. I didn’t care that the mud was filling my mouth, my ears and my nostrils. I could still breath quite happily. The mud wouldn’t let me come to harm.<br /> <br /> Slowly, my senses faded in and out. I saw mud, then a forest, then a strange yet familiar room, and furniture, then I saw my mother, and Jason, then Sarah! But then just mud again. I felt sad. <br /> <br /> I realised that I was swimming. Swimming in the mud – towards the far bank. Towards the forest. My forest. My real home. Increasingly, the feelings I had for this muddy haven ebbed away. It was the forest I must get to – not this accursed brown slime. I continued to squirm and wriggle my way to the far side. <br /> <br /> I felt my body burn hot and cold. I felt strange tingling sensations up and down my arms and legs. I felt constrained by the things around me – pulling him back, squeezing me tight, reminding me of what I once was. Then in a flash – they were gone, and I was there! I had reached the far bank! <br /> <br /> I raised my muddy hand up to grabbed onto a branch that jutted out from the river bank. Hauling myself up and out of the mud, onto the grassy bank, I was sure that something felt different. In fact I felt quite strange. My perspective had altered. I smelt things, saw things, heard things that I had never experienced before. Also, my body felt funny – things bent in a strange way and my clothes pulled tightly around my arms and legs. I looked down, to see the mud covering my body begin to dissolve. Underneath, to my shock and sheer wonder – was a layer of shimmering, dark fur poking out of the collar and cuffs of my sweatshirt! Instinctively I pulled at my tight clothes. I was finally renouncing humanity with all its evils; and letting the Wilderness take me! Suddenly a terrible pain hit me and I fell to the ground. My shoulders broadened still further, huge muscles bulking up on my back and chest. My shoes became incredibly tight, then they exploded off my feet as they became clawed paws! I scratched the ground with them, enjoying the power they now possessed. The pressure was building in my jeans, the strong blue denim creaking as my body expanded inside. My massive growing thighs and buttocks were cramming my jeans like a second skin! <br /> <br /> I licked my lips in anticipation of what happening. The animal urge was growing in me, pulsing through my veins. Every heartbeat and every breath brought more growth, more fur, more muscle, more pressure, more pleasure! My expanding body was pulling my hooded blue sweatshirt snugly under my arms and around my chest. The collar started to choke me a bit. I tried to put my hands up to my collar to pull it wider to allow my neck room to grow, but my hands were already growing into stubby claws and I couldn’t get a good grip of the fabric. I settled back to all fours to await events as my body continued to swell like a balloon, the pressure and pain increasing with every breath. <br /> <br /> I could feel my clothes pull even tighter about me. How much longer would they hold out? My astonishing muscle growth then began to accelerate, causing the fabric of my clothes to groan in agony. The sweatshirt stitching under my arms began to give way very slowly stitch by stitch. Pop, pop, pop, pop. The ripping sound was like sweet music to my ears. My metamorphosis was beautiful and slow. New muscles bulged all over my expanding frame. The mighty growth was going too fast for the exhausted stitching to keep up and the cotton fabric itself splintered and exploded off my upper body. This latest surge of growth carried on down my body to my thighs and buttocks. With a slow, delicious cracking sound – my huge legs began to prise apart the blue denim of my jeans, inch by inch running down each leg. With a sudden boom, the back of the jeans burst open and they fell to the ground in a crumpled heap of rags.<br /> I roared in delight. Checking out the rest of my new body was equally wonderful. It was all there. Fangs, claws, fur – the works! I was at last the werewolf I had dreamed of. Exactly as I had dreamed it. Exactly! Well, not exactly - I think I may have been more were-gorilla than werewolf but who cared now. <br /> <br /> I fell forwards onto all fours, which now felt much more comfortable. My immense bulk cast a huge shadow in the moonlight over the oddly green grass around me. Raising my head towards the sky, I let out another roar – and loped off into the dark forest.<br /> <br /> After a while, I sniffed the air. There were strange sounds in the distance. I was unsure what they signified. They were not like the calls of any bird I knew. Loud cracks, like wood clattering against branches. Then distant cries. I dug my claws into the damp soil, and snarled. I didn’t like what I couldn’t understand – and I couldn’t understand strange noises. I padded deeper into the forest, fearful of what these things meant.<br /> <br /> I found himself in a clearing, bathed in moonlight. The strange sounds continued, getting closer, and closer. Out of the undergrowth loped a strange figure. It was larger than me, but similarly formed – arched back, fur and sharp claws. It bared its teeth, and snarled. Instinctively, I snarled back – and turned to face my assailant. Just then, another figure appeared, and another, and another, and another. Soon, I was totally surrounded by the pack. I spun around, trying to find an escape route – but all were blocked! They moved closer and closer, eyes fixed on me. I returned my gaze towards the original opponent, and prepared to strike.<br /> <br /> “Do not fear my child.” said the lead beast, “We are not your enemy.”<br /> <br /> I shook his head. The voice sounded eerily human for such a creature. <br /> <br /> “Grrrrrr..... What do you want?” I growled, not yet use to my changed voice. <br /> <br /> “Your fellowship.” replied the lead beast. “You are one of us. One of the free. One of the chosen. Now you’ve come to join us.”<br /> <br /> “Whaaat? I don’t know you.” I grumbled, still aching to pounce. <br /> <br /> “No Curtis, you don’t know us – but we know you.” replied the leader, “My name is Charger, and we are the Pax Lycana.”<br /> <br /> “Huh?” I muttered.<br /> <br /> “The Pax Lycana!” repeated Charger, “This is now the Wyrm Age! The Earth is falling to the dark laws of the Magi, we were amongst the first to be torn from our families, our homes and warped into these forms – but our minds remained pure. We are the Brotherhood of Fenrir, the last hope of humanity.”<br /> <br /> “Grrrrr... humans suck!” I growled.<br /> <br /> “I understand my child.” said Charger, “It is part of their mutation process, to undo your thoughts as well as your body. You are forced to believe the magi and their lies – but we know the truth. Is that not right, Club?” Another creature moved into the clearing, about the same size as me. It looked up towards Charger, and then turned to face me.<br /> <br /> “He tells the truth.” spoke Club softly, “I too was changed early in the war, but I never surrendered my soul. My name was Jack, and I was at a school run by a mage. He was trying to form a tribe of slaves out of his children before the invasion, but I killed him first.” Club howled with pride.<br /> <br /> “Wazza gotta do with me?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “You are not Wyrm at heart,” replied Charger. “You can still help your family, and end this curse of the Wyrm. We are the only hope. Will you join us?”<br /> <br /> “Who’s the Verm? I gotta fink!” I hissed. I still couldn’t figure what was going on. War? Wyrm? Magi? The Earth falling? I remembered a river, a forest, feeling wonderful – and now this meeting. I vaguely remembered things called families, things I had done as a boy – but it was all so vague now.<br /> <br /> “Time is of the essence. Even now the forces of the magi continue their march on our homes. They are even close to us now.” said Charger. “You, my son, are our latest comrade. Join us – and you will be saved. Alone, and you will die. I share your fears. I myself tried to end my life when I realised my fate – but I was saved. I regret nothing. Join us!”<br /> <br /> I pondered for a moment. “Awww, I gonna come with you.” I growled, knowing I had little choice.<br /> <br /> “Well done my son.” said Charger, “Join with us – Blade!”<br /> <br /> “Hmmmm, Blade – I like that name.” I thought and roared into the air. The pack roared too. They had gained a brother, and I had gained a sense of belonging and a hope of survival. The War had begun!<br /> <br /> {{DEFAULTSORT:School Daze}} [[Category:Story]] [[Category:Jed Curtis]]</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=The_Evil_Gnome&diff=9390 2008-12-04T20:22:07Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[category:story]] [[category:White Lion]] {{DEFAULTSORT:Evil Gnome, The}}<br /> {{byline|user=White Lion|author=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend.<br /> <br /> It was late evening, and John Harrow was walking back home from his girlfriend’s house. It had been a good night, and after a romantic meal she had agreed to his idea of buying a house together. She had offered him a lift home, but John had declined – not wanting her to be out this late, even if driving.<br /> <br /> His journey home took him across the edge of the woods at the foot of Clayton Hill. As dark and creepy as this route was, it far more preferable than having to take the main road past the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, and also cut nearly half-a-mile off the journey. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and John walked confidently albeit briskly. <br /> Some superstitious locals would have questioned his choice of route, but John was not bothered by silly ancient legends. The tale of the Evil Gnome of Clayton Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> &lt;poem&gt;<br /> “On this long and lonely lane,<br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally see him, <br /> you will wish you stayed at home… <br /> On this long and lonely lane, <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> &lt;/poem&gt;<br /> <br /> John remembered the stories from when he was a child. His Grandfather would come up stairs to tell him a ghost story before bedtime, much to John’s mother’s disapproval, but the Grandfather always maintained he spoke the truth. The legend ran that the Evil Gnome was the ghost of a deformed hermit who lived on the Hill and had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his execution, the hermit’s ghost was alleged to have started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Adults caught on the Hill after dark could be driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken, or so the legend told. The sceptical believed that these latter victims were simply drunks who stumbled over the numerous rocky outcrops and fell to their deaths at night. <br /> <br /> John’s Grandfather elaborated the tale, he said that the Evil Gnome would come and get John if he didn’t behave. The Evil Gnome lived in the cracks in the walls, the cracks in the pavement. You could lock your doors and windows, it would do no good – he would find a way in. There was no hiding from the Evil Gnome. <br /> <br /> There was always the real event of little Jimmy Taylor, who ran away from home twenty years ago. His friend Mike said he had seen him with a small thin man on the Hill, but this was put down to an overactive imagination. Jimmy was never found. John of course didn’t believe the ghostly stories, but thought it would make a good film one day. <br /> <br /> John turned off the road, and vaulted over the stile that led up to then slopes. The concrete and asphalt of the footway very soon gave way to gravel, mud and twigs once it entered the trees. John had walked this path many times, but this was the first time at night alone. John was fit, regularly attending the gym – and the gentle slope did not deter him from maintaining a brisk pace. It was only about ten minutes and John had reached the highest point of the path. <br /> <br /> “Good, down hill now” he thought to himself. The path now entered the more thickly wooded leeward side of the hill, and the friendly scattered trees that had been his companions so far were now replaced by twisted, low-branched, crowded broadleaves – closing in over the path with a slight air of menace, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. <br /> <br /> John had not been long in the dark woods when there was a cracking sound from the path behind him. At first John didn’t even notice it, but after a few more foot falls – he became aware of its presence. Surely, just twigs falling from the trees, but there was no wind that night.<br /> <br /> “Stupid foxes” muttered John to himself.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I am talking to myself now” thought John. He started whistling. The cracking sound got louder. <br /> <br /> John quickened his pace, but the cracking sound kept up. John glanced nervously over his shoulder. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Was that a dark shape hovering about twenty feet behind him?<br /> <br /> “John, stop it!” he audibly told himself, trying to shake off his paranoia. Just then an icy breath blew on his neck causing John to shiver. <br /> <br /> “Hey!” John spun around again. No one was there, but it was starting to get misty. John felt a small kernel of panic growing in his chest. He scoffed at ghosts and goblins, but something was controlling his imagination now. The more he looked in the fractured moonlight, the more he convinced himself that shapes were moving in the mist behind him. <br /> <br /> “Stupid, stupid” said John, loud enough to startle a near-by squirrel. “I am not in some horror B-movie.” <br /> <br /> John walked briskly along the path. The chill on his neck became more intense. He tried to ignore the feelings his imagination was playing on him, and tried to think of anything other than his Grandfather’s eerie tales. <br /> <br /> “If I saw an evil gnome, I’d break his bloody fishing rod” laughed John nervously to himself.<br /> <br /> The mist was entwining itself around his legs, like spectral hands, holding him back. There was a loud crunch on the path behind him. John took one last look behind. He was sure there was definitely something on the path behind him, the mist was being disturbed by something or someone. <br /> <br /> John stood momentarily rooted to the ground, but when nothing appeared out of the misty darkness, he regained his self-control and began to run along the path, home. <br /> The cracks became thumps, the mist was overtaking him. John was running faster and faster. His heart was pounding. He dared not look behind him. The dread sight of what could be following him was too much. John’s lungs screamed for some respite, but his mind drove him on. Home, he must get home, where there was light and safety. Home!<br /> <br /> John stumbled out of the woods and onto the road. No streetlights warmed this part of town, but John could see by the moon and the way home was familiar to him. He took one fleeting glimpse back at the woods but saw nothing following him. He paused momentarily to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing but thankful he was out of the woods. After gathering his thoughts for a second, John began again on his journey. The lights of the town centre were nearing and the first houses was just in front on his left. <br /> <br /> “Nearly there..” thought John to himself, “Nearly there..”<br /> <br /> An icy chill then ran over John’s back and neck, and he instinctively looked behind before he could stop himself, but there was nothing to be seen.<br /> <br /> He eventually made it to his street and pounded up the path to his front door. He felt sure that once he was inside, he would be safe. Monsters only lived in dark woods and not in cosy houses.<br /> <br /> John checked all the doors and windows. Bolted and secure. He was safe. Suddenly feeling a little silly, he sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. <br /> <br /> “Whoa, John my boy. You are getting silly. There are no such things as ghosts. You fool. Still that was a good bit of exercise” he thought.<br /> <br /> John thought back to his Grandfather’s stories about how the Evil Gnome sought out naughty or lost children, even in their own homes.<br /> <br /> “I’m twenty nine, not a child.”<br /> <br /> After making himself a drink and checking the football results on the TV, John felt that he must get some sleep before he dozed off on the sofa. Going slowly upstairs, John left the hall light on, just for reassurance. In his bedroom, all was dark and calm. John sighed, undressed and slumped on the bed. The chill on his back still seemed to be there however, even though the house was warm and the bed comforting. John looked across at the half-open bedroom door, and felt an inner vulnerability that he never normally felt. He got up, shut door and locked it. He then went over to the windows, and locked them too. Without consciously knowing why, he took the key out of the lock, tore up some paper tissues and stuffed them into the keyhole. He then put the key on his bedside table. Once again flopping down on his bed, John at last felt safe, alone and relaxed. Nothing would find him here, neither real nor imagined bogeymen. John leaned across flick off his bedside lamp.<br /> <br /> Suddenly out of the darkness came a disembodied voice. It said menacingly “Good, now we are both shut in for the night......””<br /> <br /> ----<br /> <br /> “Booo!” cried Jack, jumping up from his seat in the boat.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jack, stop pissing about!” shouted Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Lighten up dude!” replied Jack, “You don’t really believe in ghosts do you? I was only having a bit of fun!”<br /> <br /> “Well, it wasn’t very funny” added Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Children, children” said Jed, as he put down his book he had been reading to the others.<br /> <br /> Jack sat back down in the little dinghy, his rocking motion antics still being felt in the stomachs of his friends. The small dinghy bobbed and swayed in the swirling wind. What had started as a fun fishing trip was losing its novelty fast. The fine weather had broken, no fish had been caught and tempers were now fraying. <br /> <br /> They had all, reluctantly, followed Jack’s suggestion of a bit of sea fishing, and now he was the first to become bored. Nevertheless, it was the last day of their holiday and were all determined to have a good time. <br /> <br /> Clayton-on-Sea was not your typical holiday destination. A medium sized seaside town, it had definitely seen better days. It perfectly encapsulated the ‘end of the railway line’ bleakness, being stranded on the end of long peninsula with very few hills to give any protection from the wind and rain blowing up the English Channel. The one geographical feature of note was Clayton Hill – mentioned in the ghost story and truly known locally and infamously as Claw Hill. It was a large rock monolith left behind from years of coastal erosion. Its rutted and pitted escarpments gave it the appearance of a large clawed beast, sitting ready to pounce over the town at its base. At least it has escaped the widespread rioting and civil unrest affecting most of New Britain at that time.<br /> <br /> The four friends had met at college and had thought that a week away to mark the end of their last summer before going off to University would be good idea. Aidan Beaufort and Elizabeth Quinn had been dating for over a year now and had spent the majority of the holiday in their room, studious Jed Holden was a year older and wanted some quiet time to read away from the pressures of home and to prepare for his degree but had been largely prevented from doing this by the fourth member of the group, the heavy partying Jack Storm. Jack idea of a good time was trying to consume a brewery’s worth of alcohol in one night, trying to sleep with as many ‘chicks’ (as he called them) as possible before waking up in some random location before doing it all over again the next night. Orphaned as a baby and spending most of his life in abusive institutional care had obviously affected him. He often pestered Jed to join him in his nightclub adventures, which usually ended with Jed carrying the unconscious Jack back at 4am.<br /> Jack kicked the floor of the boat in boredom, but then produced a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket.<br /> <br /> “Alright then, who’s for a game of strip poker?” he said almost menacingly, looking straight at Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Get lost you creep,” sniped Elizabeth. <br /> <br /> “Aww, you’re no fun” sulked Jack as he put down the cards, and pulled out a cigarette and matches from his pocket.<br /> <br /> “Oh, don’t smoke – it stinks” moaned Elizabeth, and she snatched the matches from Jack’s hand.<br /> <br /> “Cow!” cursed Jack, and sat back sulking. <br /> <br /> “Hey, you take that back,” interrupted Aidan, protecting his girlfriend.<br /> <br /> “I have a better idea. A magic trick” said Jed, putting down his book and taking pack from between Jack’s feet. Jed shuffled the pack, and then started to flick through the corners of them, holding the cards so only the others could see them. “Say stop and look at the card revealed” said Jed.<br /> <br /> Jack said “Stop!” almost immediately, hoping to catch Jed out. <br /> <br /> Jed said “Remember the card but don’t tell me.” He then reshuffled the pack and began to turn each one over dropping them face-up on the floor of the boat one by one. He had thrown all the cards in his hand onto floor and then said “Did you see your card drop?”<br /> <br /> “No.” said Elizabeth, puzzled.<br /> <br /> “Look in your jacket pocket.” he said to Jack, and there was the chosen card – the jack of clubs.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Hell Dread! You jammy Arse. Ever since you got into all that magic and hypnotism at the ruddy joke shop in town, you’ve been showing off too much.” said Jack. <br /> <br /> “My name’s Jed, not Dread, and well, it seemed appropriate for you – Sir JACK of the NightCLUBS.”<br /> <br /> “Again, again.” said Elizabeth, but a rumble of thunder cut the frivolity in an instant. <br /> <br /> “Think we’d better get back.” said Jed, looking concerned at the growing black cloud in the mid-distance. The four of them put the fishing equipment away and Aidan pulled the cord for the motor, but a smokey splutter was all his reward.<br /> <br /> “Try again.” said Elizabeth nervously, but the motor still did not respond.<br /> <br /> “The sails.” ordered Jed, and with some difficulty they raised the flimsy canvas. None of them were experienced sailors and it soon dawned on them that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for them to have any hope of making back to Clayton Marina, the technique of tacking being beyond even cerebral Jed. <br /> <br /> “It’s no use, we must get shore and find some cover.” said Jed, as lighting flashed, another thunderclap sounded and now hail began to fall. The wind was blowing them quite fast, towards the dunes and the ruined manor on the foreshore.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps we can hide out in that old house?” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “You can, I’d rather take my chance with the storm.” replied Elizabeth, “It looks unsafe.”<br /> <br /> “You might be right.” said Jed. “That place looks certainly as though it has seen better days. Locally it’s called the Wave House”.<br /> <br /> Jed had been reading Overlooked Britain by local author Professor Hercules Leviathan Scudder – full of myths, legends and factual history about their island home. He explained that once, Berry Manor had been an impressive Victorian manor – perched on shingle banks overlooking Clayton Bay. To its rear were formal gardens that backed onto the woods at one end of Clayton or ‘Claw’ Hill, intersected by a narrow country lane leading back to Clayton town centre, but since the World War, Berry Manor was not much more than a crumbling, eerie and deserted ruin. <br /> <br /> Its last owner, Gethin Kerr, was a despised local figure who had been suspected of shooting his older brother in the back to inherit the house and land. Although arrested and question, Kerr’s guilt could never be proven at the time and after release, Kerr lived alone in the house, shunned by the people of Clayton. One night, a huge storm blew in from the sea – breaking through the dune defences and swamping Berry Manor and its grounds. Gethin Kerr was never seen again and it was widely believed that he had received divine justice for his crime.<br /> The surrounding land became salt marsh regularly flooded at high tide. No heirs could be found for Kerr and the house passed to the local council, who left it to collapse into the sea. High metal fencing was erected on the landward side to keep people out of the dangerous structure and only the brave or foolhardy could approach the water-lapped building from the sea, hence its new nickname – the Wave House. Strange lights could be seen there at night, and eerie sounds could be heard after dark. These were dismissed as marsh gas and the wind; but the legends persisted that the site was haunted.<br /> <br /> The dinghy beached itself on the shore and the friends nervously clambered out. The quartet pulled the boat as far up the beach as possible and looked about. The tide was also sweeping in and had already cut off any hope of walking along the beach back to Clayton. They had no option but trudge inland over the bog and past the Wave House. They squelched their way up the bramble bank and got a better look at the house. It stood in large, overgrown gardens, with muddy channels criss-crossing what had once been manicured lawns. The windows were mostly smashed or boarded up, but all the ground floor ones had metal grills fixed over them to stop vandals entering. The ragged remains of heavy weather-worn curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning to the passers-by of the menace within. <br /> <br /> “Man, that place looks like the perfect haunted house. Wooooo!” joked Jack, running a fingery hand over Elizabeth’s shoulder, making her jump.<br /> <br /> The four of them scrambled down and picked their way through the boggy grounds looking for the drive that would lead them back to the main road. It was difficult to find their footings in the growing gloom and the rain made the ground even more slippery.<br /> <br /> “Curse this, I’m going to hide out of the rain.” said Jack, and he veered over to the ruined house. <br /> <br /> “Come back.” said Jed, but Jack was already at the door. The others followed, reluctantly, as the rain pelted even harder.<br /> <br /> Out of sight of the friends, in the dark corner of the grounds, a lumbering two-legged shape stalked their movements, its long scythe-like weapon trailing in the mud behind its uneven steps. <br /> <br /> Upon entering the hall of the Wave House, all four were surprised to find that it was much less ruined than the decrepit outside would have suggested. It put Jed in mind of a theme park ghost train ride that was all haunted old ruin on the outside, but concrete and steel building inside. The hall was very dark, lit only by the twilight from the open door and smashed windows, but it was smooth floored with wood panelling on the walls, but lacking furniture, save a few book cases and wardrobes.<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s have a look around.” said Jack and he darted off through another door into one of the reception rooms. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth followed cagily, only for Jack to jump out from behind the door with a loud “Boo!”<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed.<br /> <br /> “You idiot!” said Aidan and he sprung at Jack and gave him a shove that made Jack stumble backwards. He nearly regained his footing before his left foot caught itself on a loose brick on the floor and he crashed back against one of the wooden panels on the wall. It swung back effortlessly and Jack fell into the void, with the panel clicking shut behind him!<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” screamed Aidan, and he ran over and pummelled on the panel, trying to get it to open.<br /> <br /> “Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” shouted Jed. The only sound was the wind outside. The three remaining looked at each other in horror.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Jack picked himself up off the floor. He guessed that he must have fallen at least fifteen feet down a smooth shoot, but apart from a few bruises – felt fine.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Aidan!” shouted Jack, but there was no hollowness to the echo and the room was pitch black. The room felt solid like a prison cell. Picking his way across the floor, Jack tripped and stumbled over objects on the floor. He held out his arms in front of him, reaching for a wall or a door. Something then knocked him in the face. It was something dangling from the roof, like a boxer’s punch bag. Jack felt uneasy. He then remembered that his mobile phone had a small LED torch built in. He reached into his pocket and was relieved that the torch still worked. He joy was short lived. The beam shone on the dangling object. It was a strange greenish-brown colour, and it dawned on Jack that it was flesh. He raised the beam up the object, and nearly vomited when he saw it had the outline of a human torso, its head held in place by a gibbet-like cage at its shoulders. The beam also illuminated some more of these corpses, hanging in rows behind this first one. As if on cue from the torch light, their putrid eyes opened and stared at Jack! <br /> <br /> “Oh my god, oh my god!” Jack cried as he staggered back in terror. Something standing behind him in the dark stopped his progress, and Jack spun round to look up. Jack barely had time to shine his torch on the creature’s armoured chest before the phone torch was knocked from his hand. The giant figure then grabbed Jack, holding him tight. Jack was turned back to look into the darkness. Two small red pinpricks of light could be seen in the darkness, low down. Out of the gloom appeared a frightful dwarf, with a long pointed finger similar to a sharp syringe. The dwarf leered at Jack, who desperately tried to break free. Suddenly the dwarf leapt into the air, landed on Jack’s chest and gabbed the syringe-like finger into Jack’s neck. The large creature released Jack as the dwarf jumped back to floor.<br /> Jack screamed in agony as dark pulsating veins erupted over his exposed skin, tracing a web towards his terrified bloodshot eyes and then darkness overtook him.<br /> <br /> Meanwhile, Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth were still trying to force open the panel, but it remained rock solid and shut. They continued to bang and shout, but no response from Jack. <br /> <br /> “I bet that creep is still playing tricks on us.” said Aidan, anger trying to cover his guilty conscience. <br /> <br /> “Come on, we must search for him. Let’s split up.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “Can I stay with Aidan”. said Elizabeth, scared.<br /> <br /> “Very well, you try opening the panel, I’ll check to see of there is a door to the cellar.” And with that Jed left.<br /> <br /> Jed looked down the hall. There seemed to be no obvious door under the staircase, and he made his way into the room which he thought might be the kitchen. There was indeed equipment in there, but not what he was expecting. Metal tanks and desks filled the room, all marked with a strange geometric symbol – a sort of cross with a straight vertical bar but a barbed horizontal one. Jed was well-read and he recognised it as an ancient runic symbol called the Wolf Hook that was used to ward off supernatural beasts, but what it was doing here he could not fathom.<br /> <br /> “Argh!” cried Jed as out of the darkness a huge blade sliced down next to him, grazing his forearm. He turned around and saw a seven foot creature, vaguely humanoid with glowing red eyes wielding a huge reaper scythe. It raised the weapon again but Jed, gritting his teeth, managed to dodge the second strike, the scythe embedding itself in the wooden floorboard<br /> Jed was temporarily disorientated by the attack, but at least the creature was relatively slow in its movements. Jed tried to clear his mind and focus, as he had trained himself to do. He saw that a large wooden cabinet rested against the main wall of the room. As the creature began to try and extricate the scythe from the floor, Jed gingerly moved over to the side of the cabinet and pulled with all his strength. The cabinet was top-heavy - it tilted and then toppled over, right on top of the creature.<br /> Jed was breathing hard, and looked down at his arm. It was only a small gash but the cut looked dirty. He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the wound clean as best he could and made for the door. <br /> <br /> Crack! Jed spun around to see the fist of the creature smash through the back of the cabinet, followed by its arm and another fist – splintering the wood as it emerged. Just at this point, Jack appeared at the door.<br /> <br /> “Dread, this way!” he shouted, and Jed clambered over the broken piled of equipment to make his way out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him.<br /> <br /> “What happened Dread?” said Jack.<br /> <br /> “Dunno. Someone attacked me. Huge man, looked freaky. Where have you been?” spluttered Jed.<br /> <br /> “No where. Sounds weird Dread” said Jack. Jed looked at his friend, unsure of his feelings.<br /> <br /> “Jack, can’t you say anything but Dread?”<br /> <br /> The evening light shone down the hall. It had an almost spectral quality. Jack looked blankly at Jed, not answering. At that point there was a break in the clouds. Moonlight shone straight down the hall, silhouetting Jack. Jed was dismayed to see strange luminous purple and green veins glowing under Jack’s skin.<br /> <br /> “Jack, what’s wrong?” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “I have a gift, I have a gift, I have a gift…” repeated Jack, as if in a trance.<br /> <br /> “Jack!” shouted Jed. Jack stared at Jed, his expression turning into a sinister sneer.<br /> <br /> “Orak commands!” shouted Jack, and as he spoke his skin beginning to crawl, dark veins began to swell and Jack’s hands became claws. Jack leapt at Jed with bestial fury screaming “Orak commands!”<br /> <br /> Stunned, Jed was floored by the mutated Jack who started to try and strangle his former friend. Jed managed to grab Jack’s arms and pulled them away from his own throat, and then punched Jack in the face. This temporarily disoriented Jack. Jed scurried across the floor, and found a piece of rubble. Jack was by now back on his feet and rushing towards Jed, his clawed fingers dripping green ooze from the talons. Jed wielded the rock, and managed to strike Jack on the side of head, sending him to the ground with a thud.<br /> Jack’s mutant, lifeless body lay on the floor – the dark veins melting slowly back into his skin. Jed stood up painfully, and walked over and knelt down next to his friend.<br /> <br /> “Oh Jack, what is going on?” asked Jed quietly to himself.<br /> <br /> Kerump!! The door and frame next to him burst open and the giant scythe creature staggered into the hallway, sending some rubble down on top of Jed and Jack. Jed tried to pull Jack away from the creature, but his exertions had exhausted him. Jed staggered back, expecting another scythe attack at any moment. He could now see the creature in better light. It was not a pretty sight. It was about seven feet tall. Jed couldn’t tell clearly if it was naked or dressed in a skin tight black rubber suit, but either way it has ragged peeling bits all over. It legs were booted and its arms long and clawed. Its head was bald, green and black and mostly featureless except for a slit of a mouth and two piercing red eyes that glowed in the twilight. It was the stuff of nightmares but this was all too real. <br /> <br /> The monster swung its scythe down towards Jed and Jack’s position. It missed Jack and would have struck Jed had he not slithered out of the way with milliseconds to spare. The monster roared a ghastly screech and thumped its fist into the wall. Another avalanche of rubble and dust fell down on Jack and Jed. Jed had no choice but had to abandon his friend on the floor and get away. Crawling back along the hallway to the front, he found the door to the room where Aidan and Elizabeth were. It was locked! To his horror, a quick look around told him that he was trapped in this hall, the only way out was passed the creature, or maybe…..?<br /> Jed got to his feet, took a small run and charged at the wall. It cracked, but so did his shoulder. Trying to blot out the pain, Jed took another run up and then did a flying kick at the crack. The crumbling masonry heaved over and he pulled himself through the hole in the wall, tumbling in a heap at the feet of Aidan and Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, what happened?” asked Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Attacked…. Jack …. Dead…. Attacked….creature..” garbled Jed.<br /> <br /> “You’re bleeding.” said Elizabeth, who tried to wipe the blood off Jed’s face and arm.<br /> <br /> “No time, it’s out there. It’s got Jack.” said Jed more firmly.<br /> <br /> “What has? We were in here trying open the panel, then the door slammed shut and was locked. We then heard a lot of crashing and banging, then you emerge through the wall!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Quick, help me barricade the door and the hole,” said Jed, panting. “I was looking for Jack, and was attacked by this thing – I don’t know what it was. Some giant zombie or something crazy. Then Jack appeared, but he seemed to be changing into a zombie and attacked me too. They’re both out in the hallway. I can’t get my head around it.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t care what you say,” said Elizabeth, “this house is haunted and we’re gonna die.”<br /> <br /> “No, no.” said Jed quietly, “Something’s not right here. I am sure ghosts do not exist. This is something else, more sinister.”<br /> <br /> “More sinister than ghosts?” chided Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “No time for theories now,” interrupted Aidan, pointing to the hole in the wall. The creature’s clawed hand was reaching through – scrabbling for purchase. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth pulled what items of furniture they could to block the door and hole. Aidan threw a couple of bricks at the beast through the hole – enough to make it recoil so they could slam the cupboard across the gap.<br /> <br /> All their hearts thumped almost painfully. This was indeed a nightmare. They couldn’t abandon Jack but at present they were fighting for their own survival.<br /> <br /> “That should hold it for a bit.” exhaled Jed.<br /> <br /> “What happened to Jack?” asked Elizabeth, unsure that she wanted to hear the answer.<br /> <br /> “He was…” Jed paused, “Changing before my eyes. A bit like the Borg in Star Trek, wiry black veins over his face. I felt sick.” <br /> <br /> “Could it be some infection?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Whatever it was, we may soon find out.” said Jed, pointing to the door.<br /> <br /> Thump! Thump! Thump! The door shook with each strike from the monster beyond. The wood around the lock started to splinter. <br /> <br /> “Have any of you got a torch?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “No, why?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Wanted to inspect the walls. If there is one secret panel, there may be another? We can also try and open the windows.”<br /> <br /> “No use.” said Aidan. “Tried that. They are all blocked with metal bars, screwed tight. Too small to squeeze through.” <br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some matches.” said Elizabeth. “Took them off Jack on the dinghy.”<br /> <br /> She illuminated the gloom with the flickering flame, which shook even more in the draft and her unsteady hand.<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “Ah, here’s another panel.” said Jed, “Ah, that’s interesting.”<br /> <br /> “What’s interesting?” asked Aidan, “We haven’t time for one of your mysteries.”<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “The markings on this panel match those on the equipment I saw in the other room. Its an old runic symbol from ancient Norse legend; but is embossed with laser cut precision.”<br /> <br /> “So?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “So, whatever is happening here is technologically advanced.”<br /> <br /> CRASH! The door exploded off its hinges, sending wood and the stacked furniture flying into the room. The towering scythe creature stood leering through the doorway, its red eyes searching the room for living flesh.<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed and dropped the match. As luck would have it, the match landed on some rags on the wooden floor and immediately caught them alight. The flames licked and spluttered across the floor.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m sorry.” whimpered Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry, this might be our saviour.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> The flames arced around the room, not blocking the trio from the door but did make their escape through the door narrow and precarious. The scythe creature looked blankly at the roaring flames, and it slowly made its way forward towards them, still dragging its weapon behind it. It seemed fascinated by the dancing lights – unsure if the fire itself was another creature itself.<br /> <br /> “Now!” shouted Jed, and grabbing both his friends arms, pulled them towards the open doorway. The creature turned to look at them, but Jed had already barged his shoulder into the creatures mid-drift. Pain surged through Jed’s shoulder as it connected with the monster’s carapace, but it gave them enough time and space to dart through the gap and back into the hall. The front door was locked, but both Jed and Aidan’s repeated kicks managed to break the lock and they were free.<br /> <br /> They looked back as they stumbled into the garden. The scythe creature stood silhouetted in the front door against the flames, not attempting to follow them out. The fire had taken hold now and the soon the whole building was an inferno. <br /> <br /> Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth stumbled in the darkness – using the light of the flames to find their way fortunately to the old driveway. Looking back one last time, they saw the old house collapse in on itself with a sickening crunch.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Jack.” said Aidan quietly.<br /> <br /> They ran up the driveway, their sodden shoes slowing their progress, Elizabeth losing hers altogether in the mud.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth. “We have to go to the Police. Jack’s dead.”<br /> <br /> “And tell them what exactly? That we broke into a dangerous building? That we were attacked by a giant bug-eyed monster and our friend turned into a zombie before we burnt the place to the ground. That really sounds convincing!” snapped Aidan.<br /> <br /> “I only…” replied Elizabeth, hurt, before Jed interjected.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know what is behind all this. Maybe it was supernatural, maybe it wasn’t. Either way – we are still in trouble and I don’t think the Police can or will help us.” <br /> <br /> Eventually, they made it to the main road running back to Clayton. It was getting later in the evening, and the street lights of the town centre were a welcome focus for their journey. It was about two miles back into town, but the roads were quiet. Surely someone in the village must have seen the flames coming from the Wave House? Arriving in the town, Elizabeth marched straight to the police station. <br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “We must tell them what happened!” she shouted.<br /> <br /> “It won’t help Jack. We could be in all sorts of trouble if we confess to tonight’s happenings. Jack had no family. We can keep it to ourselves.” said Jed calmly, clearly wanting to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the authorities.<br /> <br /> “How can you be so cold?” said Elizabeth and he hurried on and into the Police Station. The grizzled sergeant looked up from the desk. There was a crackle of noise from the police radio – reports of an incident near Berry Manor.<br /> <br /> “Can I help you?” asked the policeman, in a dismissive tone.<br /> <br /> “We were at the Wave House. Caught fire. Attacked by someone. Our friend might be dead. You must help us” blurted Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Whoah! Did you say you were at Berry Manor?” interrupted the policeman, reaching under the desk with his right hand.<br /> <br /> “Yes, it caught fire and our friend was trapped.” <br /> <br /> “I see..” said the police sergeant menacingly. At that moment, a side door opened and two unformed officers came into the lobby. The grabbed Elizabeth by the arms.<br /> <br /> “I am arresting you on suspicion of arson and being under the influence of a banned substance.”<br /> <br /> “Hey wait!” shouted Aidan from the doorway, but he too was over powered by more constables. Jed, standing outside on the steps, couldn’t see what was happening but heard raised voices. From out of the gloom came a tall thin man with a dishevelled appearance, wrapped in a long black leather coat.<br /> <br /> “Got the time friend?” asked the stranger.<br /> <br /> “Urm, about eleven thirty.” replied Jed, looking at his watch.<br /> <br /> “Thank you.” replied the stranger. Jed turned back to look at the police station door, but received a painful strike to the back of the head, sending him to the floor.<br /> <br /> <br /> Jed awoke in a cell. Aidan was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to him.<br /> <br /> “Wondered when you would wake up” he said.<br /> <br /> “How long was I out for?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “Not long, ten minutes or so. Elizabeth’s next door I think. We are in deep trouble. I was dreading something like this but she wouldn’t listen” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Dread not. How many policemen are there?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “About four I think. We must find a way out of here.” said Aidan, ponderously.<br /> <br /> “Only four, that’s ok. We must get out of here. Police don’t cosh people over the head like that, even in New Britain. There is something deeply amiss here. Aidan, here’s what I need you to do.” Jed whispered, “Collapse on the floor as if you are having a fit. Make it convincing. I’ll do the rest.”<br /> <br /> Aidan put all his amateur dramatic experience, including frothing at the mouth, to good use whilst Jed pummelled on the cell door.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Hey! Help! My friend’s dying. He’s having a seizure. Someone please help!” shouted Jed. After a small pause, the viewing hatch opened. A weasely looking face peered through.<br /> <br /> “What?!” asked the Policeman.<br /> <br /> “It’s my friend. He’s had some sort of a fit. He’s got problems with his lungs and heart.” pleaded Jed.<br /> <br /> “Hah, nice try.” replied the policeman “Any idiot can roll around on the floor.”<br /> <br /> Just then Aidan coughed and spluttered. The policeman casually looked over, planning some sarcastic comment when suddenly a stream of blood was ejected from Aidan’s frothing mouth.<br /> <br /> “Oh Geez.” said the policeman, and he quickly unlocked the door. Jed stepped back, and allowed the officer. He bent down over Aidan. Jed saw his opportunity, and with a clean strike to the back of the neck – knocked the officer out cold. Aidan opened his eyes, grinned and jumped up. <br /> <br /> “Wow, that was impressive.” said Jed, “How did you manage that blood?”<br /> <br /> “Bit a chunk out of my lip as I lay down. It hurt but was worth it for the effect.” replied Aidan, rubbing the blood and saliva from his sore mouth.<br /> <br /> “Quick, got the keys, lets get Elizabeth.” said Jed as he dragged the policeman further into the cell.<br /> <br /> Outside, there were no other policeman, and Jed locked the cell and then found the key for Elizabeth’s room.<br /> <br /> “Quick, no time to explain, gotta go!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> The three of them quietly paced down the cell corridor, opening the end door. The other policemen were in the office, the sergeant talking excitedly on the phone. Jed couldn’t hear the detail of the conversation, but was pretty sure it was about the incident at the Wave House.<br /> <br /> The sergeant replaced the receiver and addressed the other two, who nodded and left the building. That left only one to overcome. Jed whispered “Let’s wait until the other two have driven off before we sort the old guy out.”<br /> <br /> After a few minutes, Jed coughed loudly down the corridor. The sergeant turned around and called “Williams, is that you?” No reply.<br /> <br /> The sergeant made his way toward the door to the corridor. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth skulked back into the corners behind the door. <br /> <br /> “Hallo? Williams?” said the sergeant again, pushing the door fully open. All the cell doors were shut bar one. Surely Williams was in there, attending to the girl.<br /> <br /> “Hope he keeps his hands off.” smirked the sergeant. Perhaps he ought to take a look.<br /> <br /> THWACK!<br /> <br /> Jed delivered another one of his finely-honed hand chops to the old sergeant, sending him to the floor. They did not waste time locking him up. Jed fumbled about looking for the file with their names on it and personal effects. Fortunately it was lying on the sergeant’s desk.<br /> <br /> “That’s coming with me!” said Jed. <br /> <br /> Bundling out of the police station, the three friends ran back to their holiday cottage. <br /> <br /> “Grab our stuff!” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “We haven’t time for that.” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes, we must. Can’t leave anything to identify us.”<br /> <br /> “What about the booking reference?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “It was in Jack’s name. Hopefully the trail will end with him.” said Jed coolly.<br /> <br /> They had enough time to clear their tracks and bundle into the car. Aidan started the engine, and quietly they trundled out of the town, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. There were two ways out of Clayton, one straight through the town centre past the Police Station and the other along the coast near the Wave House. Neither held much appeal but at least the Wave House route had not street lights for them to be illuminated by. Jed desperately wanted to floor the accelerator and get away, but he knew that it would be more noticeable to those tracking them.<br /> <br /> There was a strange humming sound overhead. All three of them tried to see up out of the windows. It was a helicopter, with a searchlight – but it wasn’t apparently looking for them. It overtook them and headed towards the Wave House site. Suddenly, another flying vehicle followed close behind the helicopter – but this was quite different. It looked like an upturned bath, with grey markings. A bit like a typical Hollywood UFO, but it glided behind the helicopter – matching its speed. The UFO’s searchlight was also aiming towards the glowing embers of the Wave House.<br /> <br /> Distracted, Aidan did not notice that he had missed the last turning onto the main road, and had come to a dead end near a barn on the edge of the Wave House grounds. To their horror, the three friends saw a whole group of people clad in white protection suits. They were spraying the field and animal corpses! Aidan slammed the car into reverse.<br /> <br /> “Quickly!” shouted Jed.<br /> <br /> BLAM! BLAM!<br /> <br /> Bullets started flying around the car. Sparks flew off the bodywork. Aidan spun the car around, smashing his rear lights on a gatepost, before speeding off into the darkness of the night....</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=The_Evil_Gnome&diff=9389 2008-12-04T20:21:40Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Image:Example.jpg]][[category:story]] [[category:White Lion]] {{DEFAULTSORT:Evil Gnome, The}}<br /> {{byline|user=White Lion|author=White Lion}}<br /> <br /> The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend.<br /> <br /> It was late evening, and John Harrow was walking back home from his girlfriend’s house. It had been a good night, and after a romantic meal she had agreed to his idea of buying a house together. She had offered him a lift home, but John had declined – not wanting her to be out this late, even if driving.<br /> <br /> His journey home took him across the edge of the woods at the foot of Clayton Hill. As dark and creepy as this route was, it far more preferable than having to take the main road past the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, and also cut nearly half-a-mile off the journey. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and John walked confidently albeit briskly. <br /> Some superstitious locals would have questioned his choice of route, but John was not bothered by silly ancient legends. The tale of the Evil Gnome of Clayton Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> &lt;poem&gt;<br /> “On this long and lonely lane,<br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally see him, <br /> you will wish you stayed at home… <br /> On this long and lonely lane, <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> &lt;/poem&gt;<br /> <br /> John remembered the stories from when he was a child. His Grandfather would come up stairs to tell him a ghost story before bedtime, much to John’s mother’s disapproval, but the Grandfather always maintained he spoke the truth. The legend ran that the Evil Gnome was the ghost of a deformed hermit who lived on the Hill and had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his execution, the hermit’s ghost was alleged to have started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Adults caught on the Hill after dark could be driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken, or so the legend told. The sceptical believed that these latter victims were simply drunks who stumbled over the numerous rocky outcrops and fell to their deaths at night. <br /> <br /> John’s Grandfather elaborated the tale, he said that the Evil Gnome would come and get John if he didn’t behave. The Evil Gnome lived in the cracks in the walls, the cracks in the pavement. You could lock your doors and windows, it would do no good – he would find a way in. There was no hiding from the Evil Gnome. <br /> <br /> There was always the real event of little Jimmy Taylor, who ran away from home twenty years ago. His friend Mike said he had seen him with a small thin man on the Hill, but this was put down to an overactive imagination. Jimmy was never found. John of course didn’t believe the ghostly stories, but thought it would make a good film one day. <br /> <br /> John turned off the road, and vaulted over the stile that led up to then slopes. The concrete and asphalt of the footway very soon gave way to gravel, mud and twigs once it entered the trees. John had walked this path many times, but this was the first time at night alone. John was fit, regularly attending the gym – and the gentle slope did not deter him from maintaining a brisk pace. It was only about ten minutes and John had reached the highest point of the path. <br /> <br /> “Good, down hill now” he thought to himself. The path now entered the more thickly wooded leeward side of the hill, and the friendly scattered trees that had been his companions so far were now replaced by twisted, low-branched, crowded broadleaves – closing in over the path with a slight air of menace, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. <br /> <br /> John had not been long in the dark woods when there was a cracking sound from the path behind him. At first John didn’t even notice it, but after a few more foot falls – he became aware of its presence. Surely, just twigs falling from the trees, but there was no wind that night.<br /> <br /> “Stupid foxes” muttered John to himself.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I am talking to myself now” thought John. He started whistling. The cracking sound got louder. <br /> <br /> John quickened his pace, but the cracking sound kept up. John glanced nervously over his shoulder. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Was that a dark shape hovering about twenty feet behind him?<br /> <br /> “John, stop it!” he audibly told himself, trying to shake off his paranoia. Just then an icy breath blew on his neck causing John to shiver. <br /> <br /> “Hey!” John spun around again. No one was there, but it was starting to get misty. John felt a small kernel of panic growing in his chest. He scoffed at ghosts and goblins, but something was controlling his imagination now. The more he looked in the fractured moonlight, the more he convinced himself that shapes were moving in the mist behind him. <br /> <br /> “Stupid, stupid” said John, loud enough to startle a near-by squirrel. “I am not in some horror B-movie.” <br /> <br /> John walked briskly along the path. The chill on his neck became more intense. He tried to ignore the feelings his imagination was playing on him, and tried to think of anything other than his Grandfather’s eerie tales. <br /> <br /> “If I saw an evil gnome, I’d break his bloody fishing rod” laughed John nervously to himself.<br /> <br /> The mist was entwining itself around his legs, like spectral hands, holding him back. There was a loud crunch on the path behind him. John took one last look behind. He was sure there was definitely something on the path behind him, the mist was being disturbed by something or someone. <br /> <br /> John stood momentarily rooted to the ground, but when nothing appeared out of the misty darkness, he regained his self-control and began to run along the path, home. <br /> The cracks became thumps, the mist was overtaking him. John was running faster and faster. His heart was pounding. He dared not look behind him. The dread sight of what could be following him was too much. John’s lungs screamed for some respite, but his mind drove him on. Home, he must get home, where there was light and safety. Home!<br /> <br /> John stumbled out of the woods and onto the road. No streetlights warmed this part of town, but John could see by the moon and the way home was familiar to him. He took one fleeting glimpse back at the woods but saw nothing following him. He paused momentarily to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing but thankful he was out of the woods. After gathering his thoughts for a second, John began again on his journey. The lights of the town centre were nearing and the first houses was just in front on his left. <br /> <br /> “Nearly there..” thought John to himself, “Nearly there..”<br /> <br /> An icy chill then ran over John’s back and neck, and he instinctively looked behind before he could stop himself, but there was nothing to be seen.<br /> <br /> He eventually made it to his street and pounded up the path to his front door. He felt sure that once he was inside, he would be safe. Monsters only lived in dark woods and not in cosy houses.<br /> <br /> John checked all the doors and windows. Bolted and secure. He was safe. Suddenly feeling a little silly, he sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. <br /> <br /> “Whoa, John my boy. You are getting silly. There are no such things as ghosts. You fool. Still that was a good bit of exercise” he thought.<br /> <br /> John thought back to his Grandfather’s stories about how the Evil Gnome sought out naughty or lost children, even in their own homes.<br /> <br /> “I’m twenty nine, not a child.”<br /> <br /> After making himself a drink and checking the football results on the TV, John felt that he must get some sleep before he dozed off on the sofa. Going slowly upstairs, John left the hall light on, just for reassurance. In his bedroom, all was dark and calm. John sighed, undressed and slumped on the bed. The chill on his back still seemed to be there however, even though the house was warm and the bed comforting. John looked across at the half-open bedroom door, and felt an inner vulnerability that he never normally felt. He got up, shut door and locked it. He then went over to the windows, and locked them too. Without consciously knowing why, he took the key out of the lock, tore up some paper tissues and stuffed them into the keyhole. He then put the key on his bedside table. Once again flopping down on his bed, John at last felt safe, alone and relaxed. Nothing would find him here, neither real nor imagined bogeymen. John leaned across flick off his bedside lamp.<br /> <br /> Suddenly out of the darkness came a disembodied voice. It said menacingly “Good, now we are both shut in for the night......””<br /> <br /> ----<br /> <br /> “Booo!” cried Jack, jumping up from his seat in the boat.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jack, stop pissing about!” shouted Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Lighten up dude!” replied Jack, “You don’t really believe in ghosts do you? I was only having a bit of fun!”<br /> <br /> “Well, it wasn’t very funny” added Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Children, children” said Jed, as he put down his book he had been reading to the others.<br /> <br /> Jack sat back down in the little dinghy, his rocking motion antics still being felt in the stomachs of his friends. The small dinghy bobbed and swayed in the swirling wind. What had started as a fun fishing trip was losing its novelty fast. The fine weather had broken, no fish had been caught and tempers were now fraying. <br /> <br /> They had all, reluctantly, followed Jack’s suggestion of a bit of sea fishing, and now he was the first to become bored. Nevertheless, it was the last day of their holiday and were all determined to have a good time. <br /> <br /> Clayton-on-Sea was not your typical holiday destination. A medium sized seaside town, it had definitely seen better days. It perfectly encapsulated the ‘end of the railway line’ bleakness, being stranded on the end of long peninsula with very few hills to give any protection from the wind and rain blowing up the English Channel. The one geographical feature of note was Clayton Hill – mentioned in the ghost story and truly known locally and infamously as Claw Hill. It was a large rock monolith left behind from years of coastal erosion. Its rutted and pitted escarpments gave it the appearance of a large clawed beast, sitting ready to pounce over the town at its base. At least it has escaped the widespread rioting and civil unrest affecting most of New Britain at that time.<br /> <br /> The four friends had met at college and had thought that a week away to mark the end of their last summer before going off to University would be good idea. Aidan Beaufort and Elizabeth Quinn had been dating for over a year now and had spent the majority of the holiday in their room, studious Jed Holden was a year older and wanted some quiet time to read away from the pressures of home and to prepare for his degree but had been largely prevented from doing this by the fourth member of the group, the heavy partying Jack Storm. Jack idea of a good time was trying to consume a brewery’s worth of alcohol in one night, trying to sleep with as many ‘chicks’ (as he called them) as possible before waking up in some random location before doing it all over again the next night. Orphaned as a baby and spending most of his life in abusive institutional care had obviously affected him. He often pestered Jed to join him in his nightclub adventures, which usually ended with Jed carrying the unconscious Jack back at 4am.<br /> Jack kicked the floor of the boat in boredom, but then produced a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket.<br /> <br /> “Alright then, who’s for a game of strip poker?” he said almost menacingly, looking straight at Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Get lost you creep,” sniped Elizabeth. <br /> <br /> “Aww, you’re no fun” sulked Jack as he put down the cards, and pulled out a cigarette and matches from his pocket.<br /> <br /> “Oh, don’t smoke – it stinks” moaned Elizabeth, and she snatched the matches from Jack’s hand.<br /> <br /> “Cow!” cursed Jack, and sat back sulking. <br /> <br /> “Hey, you take that back,” interrupted Aidan, protecting his girlfriend.<br /> <br /> “I have a better idea. A magic trick” said Jed, putting down his book and taking pack from between Jack’s feet. Jed shuffled the pack, and then started to flick through the corners of them, holding the cards so only the others could see them. “Say stop and look at the card revealed” said Jed.<br /> <br /> Jack said “Stop!” almost immediately, hoping to catch Jed out. <br /> <br /> Jed said “Remember the card but don’t tell me.” He then reshuffled the pack and began to turn each one over dropping them face-up on the floor of the boat one by one. He had thrown all the cards in his hand onto floor and then said “Did you see your card drop?”<br /> <br /> “No.” said Elizabeth, puzzled.<br /> <br /> “Look in your jacket pocket.” he said to Jack, and there was the chosen card – the jack of clubs.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Hell Dread! You jammy Arse. Ever since you got into all that magic and hypnotism at the ruddy joke shop in town, you’ve been showing off too much.” said Jack. <br /> <br /> “My name’s Jed, not Dread, and well, it seemed appropriate for you – Sir JACK of the NightCLUBS.”<br /> <br /> “Again, again.” said Elizabeth, but a rumble of thunder cut the frivolity in an instant. <br /> <br /> “Think we’d better get back.” said Jed, looking concerned at the growing black cloud in the mid-distance. The four of them put the fishing equipment away and Aidan pulled the cord for the motor, but a smokey splutter was all his reward.<br /> <br /> “Try again.” said Elizabeth nervously, but the motor still did not respond.<br /> <br /> “The sails.” ordered Jed, and with some difficulty they raised the flimsy canvas. None of them were experienced sailors and it soon dawned on them that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for them to have any hope of making back to Clayton Marina, the technique of tacking being beyond even cerebral Jed. <br /> <br /> “It’s no use, we must get shore and find some cover.” said Jed, as lighting flashed, another thunderclap sounded and now hail began to fall. The wind was blowing them quite fast, towards the dunes and the ruined manor on the foreshore.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps we can hide out in that old house?” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “You can, I’d rather take my chance with the storm.” replied Elizabeth, “It looks unsafe.”<br /> <br /> “You might be right.” said Jed. “That place looks certainly as though it has seen better days. Locally it’s called the Wave House”.<br /> <br /> Jed had been reading Overlooked Britain by local author Professor Hercules Leviathan Scudder – full of myths, legends and factual history about their island home. He explained that once, Berry Manor had been an impressive Victorian manor – perched on shingle banks overlooking Clayton Bay. To its rear were formal gardens that backed onto the woods at one end of Clayton or ‘Claw’ Hill, intersected by a narrow country lane leading back to Clayton town centre, but since the World War, Berry Manor was not much more than a crumbling, eerie and deserted ruin. <br /> <br /> Its last owner, Gethin Kerr, was a despised local figure who had been suspected of shooting his older brother in the back to inherit the house and land. Although arrested and question, Kerr’s guilt could never be proven at the time and after release, Kerr lived alone in the house, shunned by the people of Clayton. One night, a huge storm blew in from the sea – breaking through the dune defences and swamping Berry Manor and its grounds. Gethin Kerr was never seen again and it was widely believed that he had received divine justice for his crime.<br /> The surrounding land became salt marsh regularly flooded at high tide. No heirs could be found for Kerr and the house passed to the local council, who left it to collapse into the sea. High metal fencing was erected on the landward side to keep people out of the dangerous structure and only the brave or foolhardy could approach the water-lapped building from the sea, hence its new nickname – the Wave House. Strange lights could be seen there at night, and eerie sounds could be heard after dark. These were dismissed as marsh gas and the wind; but the legends persisted that the site was haunted.<br /> <br /> The dinghy beached itself on the shore and the friends nervously clambered out. The quartet pulled the boat as far up the beach as possible and looked about. The tide was also sweeping in and had already cut off any hope of walking along the beach back to Clayton. They had no option but trudge inland over the bog and past the Wave House. They squelched their way up the bramble bank and got a better look at the house. It stood in large, overgrown gardens, with muddy channels criss-crossing what had once been manicured lawns. The windows were mostly smashed or boarded up, but all the ground floor ones had metal grills fixed over them to stop vandals entering. The ragged remains of heavy weather-worn curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning to the passers-by of the menace within. <br /> <br /> “Man, that place looks like the perfect haunted house. Wooooo!” joked Jack, running a fingery hand over Elizabeth’s shoulder, making her jump.<br /> <br /> The four of them scrambled down and picked their way through the boggy grounds looking for the drive that would lead them back to the main road. It was difficult to find their footings in the growing gloom and the rain made the ground even more slippery.<br /> <br /> “Curse this, I’m going to hide out of the rain.” said Jack, and he veered over to the ruined house. <br /> <br /> “Come back.” said Jed, but Jack was already at the door. The others followed, reluctantly, as the rain pelted even harder.<br /> <br /> Out of sight of the friends, in the dark corner of the grounds, a lumbering two-legged shape stalked their movements, its long scythe-like weapon trailing in the mud behind its uneven steps. <br /> <br /> Upon entering the hall of the Wave House, all four were surprised to find that it was much less ruined than the decrepit outside would have suggested. It put Jed in mind of a theme park ghost train ride that was all haunted old ruin on the outside, but concrete and steel building inside. The hall was very dark, lit only by the twilight from the open door and smashed windows, but it was smooth floored with wood panelling on the walls, but lacking furniture, save a few book cases and wardrobes.<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s have a look around.” said Jack and he darted off through another door into one of the reception rooms. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth followed cagily, only for Jack to jump out from behind the door with a loud “Boo!”<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed.<br /> <br /> “You idiot!” said Aidan and he sprung at Jack and gave him a shove that made Jack stumble backwards. He nearly regained his footing before his left foot caught itself on a loose brick on the floor and he crashed back against one of the wooden panels on the wall. It swung back effortlessly and Jack fell into the void, with the panel clicking shut behind him!<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” screamed Aidan, and he ran over and pummelled on the panel, trying to get it to open.<br /> <br /> “Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” shouted Jed. The only sound was the wind outside. The three remaining looked at each other in horror.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Jack picked himself up off the floor. He guessed that he must have fallen at least fifteen feet down a smooth shoot, but apart from a few bruises – felt fine.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Aidan!” shouted Jack, but there was no hollowness to the echo and the room was pitch black. The room felt solid like a prison cell. Picking his way across the floor, Jack tripped and stumbled over objects on the floor. He held out his arms in front of him, reaching for a wall or a door. Something then knocked him in the face. It was something dangling from the roof, like a boxer’s punch bag. Jack felt uneasy. He then remembered that his mobile phone had a small LED torch built in. He reached into his pocket and was relieved that the torch still worked. He joy was short lived. The beam shone on the dangling object. It was a strange greenish-brown colour, and it dawned on Jack that it was flesh. He raised the beam up the object, and nearly vomited when he saw it had the outline of a human torso, its head held in place by a gibbet-like cage at its shoulders. The beam also illuminated some more of these corpses, hanging in rows behind this first one. As if on cue from the torch light, their putrid eyes opened and stared at Jack! <br /> <br /> “Oh my god, oh my god!” Jack cried as he staggered back in terror. Something standing behind him in the dark stopped his progress, and Jack spun round to look up. Jack barely had time to shine his torch on the creature’s armoured chest before the phone torch was knocked from his hand. The giant figure then grabbed Jack, holding him tight. Jack was turned back to look into the darkness. Two small red pinpricks of light could be seen in the darkness, low down. Out of the gloom appeared a frightful dwarf, with a long pointed finger similar to a sharp syringe. The dwarf leered at Jack, who desperately tried to break free. Suddenly the dwarf leapt into the air, landed on Jack’s chest and gabbed the syringe-like finger into Jack’s neck. The large creature released Jack as the dwarf jumped back to floor.<br /> Jack screamed in agony as dark pulsating veins erupted over his exposed skin, tracing a web towards his terrified bloodshot eyes and then darkness overtook him.<br /> <br /> Meanwhile, Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth were still trying to force open the panel, but it remained rock solid and shut. They continued to bang and shout, but no response from Jack. <br /> <br /> “I bet that creep is still playing tricks on us.” said Aidan, anger trying to cover his guilty conscience. <br /> <br /> “Come on, we must search for him. Let’s split up.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “Can I stay with Aidan”. said Elizabeth, scared.<br /> <br /> “Very well, you try opening the panel, I’ll check to see of there is a door to the cellar.” And with that Jed left.<br /> <br /> Jed looked down the hall. There seemed to be no obvious door under the staircase, and he made his way into the room which he thought might be the kitchen. There was indeed equipment in there, but not what he was expecting. Metal tanks and desks filled the room, all marked with a strange geometric symbol – a sort of cross with a straight vertical bar but a barbed horizontal one. Jed was well-read and he recognised it as an ancient runic symbol called the Wolf Hook that was used to ward off supernatural beasts, but what it was doing here he could not fathom.<br /> <br /> “Argh!” cried Jed as out of the darkness a huge blade sliced down next to him, grazing his forearm. He turned around and saw a seven foot creature, vaguely humanoid with glowing red eyes wielding a huge reaper scythe. It raised the weapon again but Jed, gritting his teeth, managed to dodge the second strike, the scythe embedding itself in the wooden floorboard<br /> Jed was temporarily disorientated by the attack, but at least the creature was relatively slow in its movements. Jed tried to clear his mind and focus, as he had trained himself to do. He saw that a large wooden cabinet rested against the main wall of the room. As the creature began to try and extricate the scythe from the floor, Jed gingerly moved over to the side of the cabinet and pulled with all his strength. The cabinet was top-heavy - it tilted and then toppled over, right on top of the creature.<br /> Jed was breathing hard, and looked down at his arm. It was only a small gash but the cut looked dirty. He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the wound clean as best he could and made for the door. <br /> <br /> Crack! Jed spun around to see the fist of the creature smash through the back of the cabinet, followed by its arm and another fist – splintering the wood as it emerged. Just at this point, Jack appeared at the door.<br /> <br /> “Dread, this way!” he shouted, and Jed clambered over the broken piled of equipment to make his way out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him.<br /> <br /> “What happened Dread?” said Jack.<br /> <br /> “Dunno. Someone attacked me. Huge man, looked freaky. Where have you been?” spluttered Jed.<br /> <br /> “No where. Sounds weird Dread” said Jack. Jed looked at his friend, unsure of his feelings.<br /> <br /> “Jack, can’t you say anything but Dread?”<br /> <br /> The evening light shone down the hall. It had an almost spectral quality. Jack looked blankly at Jed, not answering. At that point there was a break in the clouds. Moonlight shone straight down the hall, silhouetting Jack. Jed was dismayed to see strange luminous purple and green veins glowing under Jack’s skin.<br /> <br /> “Jack, what’s wrong?” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “I have a gift, I have a gift, I have a gift…” repeated Jack, as if in a trance.<br /> <br /> “Jack!” shouted Jed. Jack stared at Jed, his expression turning into a sinister sneer.<br /> <br /> “Orak commands!” shouted Jack, and as he spoke his skin beginning to crawl, dark veins began to swell and Jack’s hands became claws. Jack leapt at Jed with bestial fury screaming “Orak commands!”<br /> <br /> Stunned, Jed was floored by the mutated Jack who started to try and strangle his former friend. Jed managed to grab Jack’s arms and pulled them away from his own throat, and then punched Jack in the face. This temporarily disoriented Jack. Jed scurried across the floor, and found a piece of rubble. Jack was by now back on his feet and rushing towards Jed, his clawed fingers dripping green ooze from the talons. Jed wielded the rock, and managed to strike Jack on the side of head, sending him to the ground with a thud.<br /> Jack’s mutant, lifeless body lay on the floor – the dark veins melting slowly back into his skin. Jed stood up painfully, and walked over and knelt down next to his friend.<br /> <br /> “Oh Jack, what is going on?” asked Jed quietly to himself.<br /> <br /> Kerump!! The door and frame next to him burst open and the giant scythe creature staggered into the hallway, sending some rubble down on top of Jed and Jack. Jed tried to pull Jack away from the creature, but his exertions had exhausted him. Jed staggered back, expecting another scythe attack at any moment. He could now see the creature in better light. It was not a pretty sight. It was about seven feet tall. Jed couldn’t tell clearly if it was naked or dressed in a skin tight black rubber suit, but either way it has ragged peeling bits all over. It legs were booted and its arms long and clawed. Its head was bald, green and black and mostly featureless except for a slit of a mouth and two piercing red eyes that glowed in the twilight. It was the stuff of nightmares but this was all too real. <br /> <br /> The monster swung its scythe down towards Jed and Jack’s position. It missed Jack and would have struck Jed had he not slithered out of the way with milliseconds to spare. The monster roared a ghastly screech and thumped its fist into the wall. Another avalanche of rubble and dust fell down on Jack and Jed. Jed had no choice but had to abandon his friend on the floor and get away. Crawling back along the hallway to the front, he found the door to the room where Aidan and Elizabeth were. It was locked! To his horror, a quick look around told him that he was trapped in this hall, the only way out was passed the creature, or maybe…..?<br /> Jed got to his feet, took a small run and charged at the wall. It cracked, but so did his shoulder. Trying to blot out the pain, Jed took another run up and then did a flying kick at the crack. The crumbling masonry heaved over and he pulled himself through the hole in the wall, tumbling in a heap at the feet of Aidan and Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, what happened?” asked Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Attacked…. Jack …. Dead…. Attacked….creature..” garbled Jed.<br /> <br /> “You’re bleeding.” said Elizabeth, who tried to wipe the blood off Jed’s face and arm.<br /> <br /> “No time, it’s out there. It’s got Jack.” said Jed more firmly.<br /> <br /> “What has? We were in here trying open the panel, then the door slammed shut and was locked. We then heard a lot of crashing and banging, then you emerge through the wall!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Quick, help me barricade the door and the hole,” said Jed, panting. “I was looking for Jack, and was attacked by this thing – I don’t know what it was. Some giant zombie or something crazy. Then Jack appeared, but he seemed to be changing into a zombie and attacked me too. They’re both out in the hallway. I can’t get my head around it.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t care what you say,” said Elizabeth, “this house is haunted and we’re gonna die.”<br /> <br /> “No, no.” said Jed quietly, “Something’s not right here. I am sure ghosts do not exist. This is something else, more sinister.”<br /> <br /> “More sinister than ghosts?” chided Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “No time for theories now,” interrupted Aidan, pointing to the hole in the wall. The creature’s clawed hand was reaching through – scrabbling for purchase. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth pulled what items of furniture they could to block the door and hole. Aidan threw a couple of bricks at the beast through the hole – enough to make it recoil so they could slam the cupboard across the gap.<br /> <br /> All their hearts thumped almost painfully. This was indeed a nightmare. They couldn’t abandon Jack but at present they were fighting for their own survival.<br /> <br /> “That should hold it for a bit.” exhaled Jed.<br /> <br /> “What happened to Jack?” asked Elizabeth, unsure that she wanted to hear the answer.<br /> <br /> “He was…” Jed paused, “Changing before my eyes. A bit like the Borg in Star Trek, wiry black veins over his face. I felt sick.” <br /> <br /> “Could it be some infection?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Whatever it was, we may soon find out.” said Jed, pointing to the door.<br /> <br /> Thump! Thump! Thump! The door shook with each strike from the monster beyond. The wood around the lock started to splinter. <br /> <br /> “Have any of you got a torch?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “No, why?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Wanted to inspect the walls. If there is one secret panel, there may be another? We can also try and open the windows.”<br /> <br /> “No use.” said Aidan. “Tried that. They are all blocked with metal bars, screwed tight. Too small to squeeze through.” <br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some matches.” said Elizabeth. “Took them off Jack on the dinghy.”<br /> <br /> She illuminated the gloom with the flickering flame, which shook even more in the draft and her unsteady hand.<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “Ah, here’s another panel.” said Jed, “Ah, that’s interesting.”<br /> <br /> “What’s interesting?” asked Aidan, “We haven’t time for one of your mysteries.”<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “The markings on this panel match those on the equipment I saw in the other room. Its an old runic symbol from ancient Norse legend; but is embossed with laser cut precision.”<br /> <br /> “So?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “So, whatever is happening here is technologically advanced.”<br /> <br /> CRASH! The door exploded off its hinges, sending wood and the stacked furniture flying into the room. The towering scythe creature stood leering through the doorway, its red eyes searching the room for living flesh.<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed and dropped the match. As luck would have it, the match landed on some rags on the wooden floor and immediately caught them alight. The flames licked and spluttered across the floor.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m sorry.” whimpered Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry, this might be our saviour.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> The flames arced around the room, not blocking the trio from the door but did make their escape through the door narrow and precarious. The scythe creature looked blankly at the roaring flames, and it slowly made its way forward towards them, still dragging its weapon behind it. It seemed fascinated by the dancing lights – unsure if the fire itself was another creature itself.<br /> <br /> “Now!” shouted Jed, and grabbing both his friends arms, pulled them towards the open doorway. The creature turned to look at them, but Jed had already barged his shoulder into the creatures mid-drift. Pain surged through Jed’s shoulder as it connected with the monster’s carapace, but it gave them enough time and space to dart through the gap and back into the hall. The front door was locked, but both Jed and Aidan’s repeated kicks managed to break the lock and they were free.<br /> <br /> They looked back as they stumbled into the garden. The scythe creature stood silhouetted in the front door against the flames, not attempting to follow them out. The fire had taken hold now and the soon the whole building was an inferno. <br /> <br /> Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth stumbled in the darkness – using the light of the flames to find their way fortunately to the old driveway. Looking back one last time, they saw the old house collapse in on itself with a sickening crunch.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Jack.” said Aidan quietly.<br /> <br /> They ran up the driveway, their sodden shoes slowing their progress, Elizabeth losing hers altogether in the mud.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth. “We have to go to the Police. Jack’s dead.”<br /> <br /> “And tell them what exactly? That we broke into a dangerous building? That we were attacked by a giant bug-eyed monster and our friend turned into a zombie before we burnt the place to the ground. That really sounds convincing!” snapped Aidan.<br /> <br /> “I only…” replied Elizabeth, hurt, before Jed interjected.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know what is behind all this. Maybe it was supernatural, maybe it wasn’t. Either way – we are still in trouble and I don’t think the Police can or will help us.” <br /> <br /> Eventually, they made it to the main road running back to Clayton. It was getting later in the evening, and the street lights of the town centre were a welcome focus for their journey. It was about two miles back into town, but the roads were quiet. Surely someone in the village must have seen the flames coming from the Wave House? Arriving in the town, Elizabeth marched straight to the police station. <br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “We must tell them what happened!” she shouted.<br /> <br /> “It won’t help Jack. We could be in all sorts of trouble if we confess to tonight’s happenings. Jack had no family. We can keep it to ourselves.” said Jed calmly, clearly wanting to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the authorities.<br /> <br /> “How can you be so cold?” said Elizabeth and he hurried on and into the Police Station. The grizzled sergeant looked up from the desk. There was a crackle of noise from the police radio – reports of an incident near Berry Manor.<br /> <br /> “Can I help you?” asked the policeman, in a dismissive tone.<br /> <br /> “We were at the Wave House. Caught fire. Attacked by someone. Our friend might be dead. You must help us” blurted Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Whoah! Did you say you were at Berry Manor?” interrupted the policeman, reaching under the desk with his right hand.<br /> <br /> “Yes, it caught fire and our friend was trapped.” <br /> <br /> “I see..” said the police sergeant menacingly. At that moment, a side door opened and two unformed officers came into the lobby. The grabbed Elizabeth by the arms.<br /> <br /> “I am arresting you on suspicion of arson and being under the influence of a banned substance.”<br /> <br /> “Hey wait!” shouted Aidan from the doorway, but he too was over powered by more constables. Jed, standing outside on the steps, couldn’t see what was happening but heard raised voices. From out of the gloom came a tall thin man with a dishevelled appearance, wrapped in a long black leather coat.<br /> <br /> “Got the time friend?” asked the stranger.<br /> <br /> “Urm, about eleven thirty.” replied Jed, looking at his watch.<br /> <br /> “Thank you.” replied the stranger. Jed turned back to look at the police station door, but received a painful strike to the back of the head, sending him to the floor.<br /> <br /> <br /> Jed awoke in a cell. Aidan was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to him.<br /> <br /> “Wondered when you would wake up” he said.<br /> <br /> “How long was I out for?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “Not long, ten minutes or so. Elizabeth’s next door I think. We are in deep trouble. I was dreading something like this but she wouldn’t listen” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Dread not. How many policemen are there?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “About four I think. We must find a way out of here.” said Aidan, ponderously.<br /> <br /> “Only four, that’s ok. We must get out of here. Police don’t cosh people over the head like that, even in New Britain. There is something deeply amiss here. Aidan, here’s what I need you to do.” Jed whispered, “Collapse on the floor as if you are having a fit. Make it convincing. I’ll do the rest.”<br /> <br /> Aidan put all his amateur dramatic experience, including frothing at the mouth, to good use whilst Jed pummelled on the cell door.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Hey! Help! My friend’s dying. He’s having a seizure. Someone please help!” shouted Jed. After a small pause, the viewing hatch opened. A weasely looking face peered through.<br /> <br /> “What?!” asked the Policeman.<br /> <br /> “It’s my friend. He’s had some sort of a fit. He’s got problems with his lungs and heart.” pleaded Jed.<br /> <br /> “Hah, nice try.” replied the policeman “Any idiot can roll around on the floor.”<br /> <br /> Just then Aidan coughed and spluttered. The policeman casually looked over, planning some sarcastic comment when suddenly a stream of blood was ejected from Aidan’s frothing mouth.<br /> <br /> “Oh Geez.” said the policeman, and he quickly unlocked the door. Jed stepped back, and allowed the officer. He bent down over Aidan. Jed saw his opportunity, and with a clean strike to the back of the neck – knocked the officer out cold. Aidan opened his eyes, grinned and jumped up. <br /> <br /> “Wow, that was impressive.” said Jed, “How did you manage that blood?”<br /> <br /> “Bit a chunk out of my lip as I lay down. It hurt but was worth it for the effect.” replied Aidan, rubbing the blood and saliva from his sore mouth.<br /> <br /> “Quick, got the keys, lets get Elizabeth.” said Jed as he dragged the policeman further into the cell.<br /> <br /> Outside, there were no other policeman, and Jed locked the cell and then found the key for Elizabeth’s room.<br /> <br /> “Quick, no time to explain, gotta go!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> The three of them quietly paced down the cell corridor, opening the end door. The other policemen were in the office, the sergeant talking excitedly on the phone. Jed couldn’t hear the detail of the conversation, but was pretty sure it was about the incident at the Wave House.<br /> <br /> The sergeant replaced the receiver and addressed the other two, who nodded and left the building. That left only one to overcome. Jed whispered “Let’s wait until the other two have driven off before we sort the old guy out.”<br /> <br /> After a few minutes, Jed coughed loudly down the corridor. The sergeant turned around and called “Williams, is that you?” No reply.<br /> <br /> The sergeant made his way toward the door to the corridor. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth skulked back into the corners behind the door. <br /> <br /> “Hallo? Williams?” said the sergeant again, pushing the door fully open. All the cell doors were shut bar one. Surely Williams was in there, attending to the girl.<br /> <br /> “Hope he keeps his hands off.” smirked the sergeant. Perhaps he ought to take a look.<br /> <br /> THWACK!<br /> <br /> Jed delivered another one of his finely-honed hand chops to the old sergeant, sending him to the floor. They did not waste time locking him up. Jed fumbled about looking for the file with their names on it and personal effects. Fortunately it was lying on the sergeant’s desk.<br /> <br /> “That’s coming with me!” said Jed. <br /> <br /> Bundling out of the police station, the three friends ran back to their holiday cottage. <br /> <br /> “Grab our stuff!” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “We haven’t time for that.” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes, we must. Can’t leave anything to identify us.”<br /> <br /> “What about the booking reference?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “It was in Jack’s name. Hopefully the trail will end with him.” said Jed coolly.<br /> <br /> They had enough time to clear their tracks and bundle into the car. Aidan started the engine, and quietly they trundled out of the town, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. There were two ways out of Clayton, one straight through the town centre past the Police Station and the other along the coast near the Wave House. Neither held much appeal but at least the Wave House route had not street lights for them to be illuminated by. Jed desperately wanted to floor the accelerator and get away, but he knew that it would be more noticeable to those tracking them.<br /> <br /> There was a strange humming sound overhead. All three of them tried to see up out of the windows. It was a helicopter, with a searchlight – but it wasn’t apparently looking for them. It overtook them and headed towards the Wave House site. Suddenly, another flying vehicle followed close behind the helicopter – but this was quite different. It looked like an upturned bath, with grey markings. A bit like a typical Hollywood UFO, but it glided behind the helicopter – matching its speed. The UFO’s searchlight was also aiming towards the glowing embers of the Wave House.<br /> <br /> Distracted, Aidan did not notice that he had missed the last turning onto the main road, and had come to a dead end near a barn on the edge of the Wave House grounds. To their horror, the three friends saw a whole group of people clad in white protection suits. They were spraying the field and animal corpses! Aidan slammed the car into reverse.<br /> <br /> “Quickly!” shouted Jed.<br /> <br /> BLAM! BLAM!<br /> <br /> Bullets started flying around the car. Sparks flew off the bodywork. Aidan spun the car around, smashing his rear lights on a gatepost, before speeding off into the darkness of the night....</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=9333 2008-11-27T22:10:52Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF LEO THE WHITELION!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> UNIVERSE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[THE EVIL GNOME]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe: Beware the Evil Gnome!<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Second Part of a New Story Universe: A boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[I'M GOING SLIGHTLY MAD]]<br /> Set in the Wind of Change Univers-ity...<br /> <br /> <br /> STAND-ALONE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Another Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=9332 2008-11-27T21:52:16Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF THE WHITELION!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> UNIVERSE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[THE EVIL GNOME]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe: Beware the Evil Gnome!<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Second Part of a New Story Universe: A boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[I'M GOING SLIGHTLY MAD]]<br /> Set in the Wind of Change Univers-ity...<br /> <br /> <br /> STAND-ALONE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Another Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=I%27m_Going_Slightly_Mad&diff=9331 2008-11-27T21:51:16Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: It was Monday. The watery sunlight filtered through the blinds, hanging from the tatty window frame. BRIIIIIIIINNNNNG BRIIIING! Leo sprang up, wide awake. He always got up early, especi...</p> <hr /> <div>It was Monday. The watery sunlight filtered through the blinds, hanging from the tatty window frame. <br /> <br /> BRIIIIIIIINNNNNG BRIIIING!<br /> <br /> Leo sprang up, wide awake. He always got up early, especially on a Monday. He was determined to secure his future for next year. Only one exam remained of his second year studies at Midshire University – and he had passed all the rest. This was the last hurdle - and then he would be into his finals; the youngest graduate the University had ever had. Now 18, he had started his degree two years early. Not considering himself a genius, nor a child prodigy when he was young, Leo still knew that his intellect was above average – well above.<br /> <br /> Striking the alarm clock, Leo manoeuvred his body around, neatly landing his socked feet into his slippers. Reaching for his dressing gown, he rose majestically and headed towards his bathroom (en suite of course). Admiring himself in the mirror, Leo carefully parted his dark brown hair with his forefinger, and stared at himself. He was pleased at the reflection. <br /> <br /> Having washed and groomed himself, Leo returned to his wardrobe. Idiosyncratic to some extent, Leo was what would be considered a goth, and a military enthusiast. His choice in clothes reflected this. He dressed in black boots, black jeans, black polo-neck sweatshirt, ex-army grey greatcoat, leather gloves and dark ray-bans. His course-mates jokingly nicknamed him Darth Vader and Terminator, which he actually quite liked. Even Mr Bad Guy was all right to some extent. <br /> <br /> Leaving his halls of residence, Leo trotted towards the library. It was nearly 8.00 AM; and the warm June weather blew through his hair. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his personal stereo, and checked what tape he had in it. It was the ‘Innuendo’ album by Queen. <br /> <br /> “Splendid!” exclaimed Leo in his exacting, James Bond voice. He placed the earphones over his head, and flicked the switch on. The faint rock music guided him on his journey, underlying his tempo. It wasn’t long before he had reached the library entrance. Still mentally dancing to the music in his ears, Leo made his way to the section he was searching for. <br /> <br /> COSMOLOGY AND ASTRONOMY<br /> <br /> Leo was not even studying this subject. He was a Politics and Modern History undergraduate, but he secretly harboured a passion for all things celestial. Whilst reaching up for the Encyclopaedia Of Astronomic Terms, a small paperback clattered onto the floor. Looking down, Leo saw that it was very tatty, and a plume of dust that accompanied it foretold that it hadn’t been read for a while.<br /> <br /> WHEN UNIVERSES DIE! was the dramatic title. <br /> <br /> “Huh? Universes don’t die, they just fade away” mumbled Leo condescendingly. He picked up the book, and placing it under his arm, took it and the encyclopaedia over to an empty desk. <br /> <br /> Leo read the ‘blurb’ on the back of the small book:<br /> <br /> Renowned Professor of Astronomy; Dr Hilary Billery of Cranfield University, explores the theories behind alternative universes, dimensions and realities. Questions such as: Are we alone in the Universe? are answered here.<br /> <br /> “Hmmm, very interesting I’m sure.” thought Leo, putting down the book. Reaching for the large encyclopaedia - he got on with some serious (albeit enjoyable) research.<br /> <br /> The time passed, and eventually his self-timetabled lunch break approached. <br /> <br /> “Nearly One, time for luncheon me thinks” thought Leo. He packed his bag and replaced the two books before he left. Leo was shocked to see how the weather had changed since the morning. It was raining, chilly and large storm clouds were filling the sky.<br /> <br /> “Drats and botherations!” grumbled Leo, “This is rudy typical!” Putting his warm leather gloves on, he set off in search of food. Increasing his pace to make it to cover without getting too wet, Leo took another glance at his watch. He always kept it to Greenwich Mean Time exactly, although Greenwich itself ceased to exist nearly half-a-century ago; destroyed during the Plague Wars. The minute hand clicked up to the hour, striking exactly 1.00 PM as the College clock did the same.<br /> <br /> Then WHAM!<br /> <br /> Leo was knocked of his feet by a blinding flash. Lightning danced around him as he fell. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the smell of hot tarmac.<br /> <br /> Leo drifted in and out of consciousness. Strange images passed through his mind. Was he dreaming? He felt that he was chasing something through an unknown yet familiar forest, whilst running on all fours. Leo felt this was strange, but settled down to enjoy his dream. He seemed to be able to understand he was dreaming, yet it seemed so real. He continued running through the hazy yet dense undergrowth, desperately trying to catch he knew not what........<br /> <br /> “What!?” Leo blurted as he opened his eyes. He sat up, trying to make sense of what happened. He looked about him. He was still lying on the tarmac path, but was now totally surrounded by a pale, flickering blue light. It rose above him to a height of about seven feet, and around him by about four feet.<br /> <br /> Peering through the crackling haze, he could see figures stumbling about the main quadrangle outside the library. Looking more closely, Leo was shocked by their appearance. They all seemed to be wearing bizarre animal costumes. No, they were not costumes. They were far too accurate. It looked liked some ghastly children’s cartoon come to life. “Disney Gone Mad!” Looking down at himself, Leo was relieved to see that he was still totally human – or at least human shaped. <br /> <br /> “Hell’s bells! I must be hallucinating. God, that lightning hurt!” thought Leo as he rubbed his aching head. Looking around him, the blue light flashed brightly. <br /> <br /> Lifting his hand gingerly, Leo moved it towards the blue light. He nervously pushed his hand through the bubble, suddenly feeling a sharp sensation of pins and needles shooting through his fingers. The pain grew, and Leo snatched his hand back, and carefully pulled off his glove. Staring down at his hand, he was shocked to see what looked like claws retracting back into fingernails, and pale yellow fur now falling off his skin.<br /> <br /> Pondering this strange event, Leo began to surmise that whatever had caused this, and all the other supposed transformations – was kept outside this strange blue light. It was about this time that Leo noticed a crowd gathering around him. They were all in various stages of mutations. Some were still more-or-less human, but with fur or scales, whilst others were virtually indistinguishable from the real thing.<br /> <br /> “What the Dickens is going on?” called Leo to an tiger-shaped student.<br /> <br /> “Dunno friend. We all changed at lunch. It’s on the news – the whole World’s changed.”<br /> <br /> “What are you saying, everyone’s an animal?”<br /> <br /> “No, the kids in the crèche are fine, thank goodness. In fact, the bloke on the news said that all kids under about fourteen seem unaffected. And you too, it seems!” pointing with a sharp claw towards Leo. <br /> <br /> “Yes, I do appear to have some kind of force shield around me.” replied Leo.<br /> <br /> The crowd was growing in number, all squawking and growling. Then pushing through, Leo noticed his friend from across the corridor in his Halls. It was Alex, or at least a wolf that resembled Alex. It was wearing what was left of Alex’s British Bulldog t-shirt.<br /> <br /> “Hey Alex, it’s me. Leo!” <br /> <br /> “I can see that.” growled back Alex, licking his fangs and wagging his tail, “How did you get in there?”. <br /> <br /> “All I remember was some sort of lightning flash – and then I woke up here. Anyway, what’s going on old boy? You don’t look so hot.” smirked Leo. Alex had always had a fascination with wolves – now he was one. <br /> <br /> “There’s been some mass epidemic of some kind. We’re all beasts.”<br /> <br /> “Bad luck old boy. I’m stuck in here, but at least I’m still pink.” retorted Leo. “I can’t seem to get out without changing. Can you get in?”<br /> <br /> “I don’t know. I’ll give it a try.” replied Alex, and tentatively put both his front paws forward towards the blue light. <br /> <br /> “Aargh!” roared Alex, snatching his paws back. The fur was slightly singed.<br /> <br /> “Well, that settles it.” muttered Leo. He sat down, crossed legged and closed his eyes. His favourite thinking position.<br /> <br /> “Hey man, you can’t sit there all day. What about grub?” growled Alex.<br /> <br /> “And become a zoo exhibit like you, no thanks.” retorted Leo haughtily.<br /> <br /> “It’s not that bad. Quite fun, as long as your not an aquatic. We had to man-handle .... sorry beast-handle..... one poor bloke who ballooned into a whale during Modern History into the lake.” said Alex. <br /> <br /> “Hmmmm” muttered Leo, still keeping his eyes shut. “You seem to have adapted quite well.”<br /> <br /> “Well, we’ve had a hour or more to get use to it.”<br /> <br /> “An hour!” spluttered Leo, his eyes flicking open. “Cripes! I must have been out longer than I thought.” <br /> <br /> “Have you tried to leave the bubble yet?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, I stuck my hand out, but it became a paw. When I pulled it back in, it reverted to human.” <br /> <br /> “What did it look like?” enquired Alex.<br /> <br /> “Well, it had yellow fur and claws.” <br /> <br /> “You’re gonna be a labrador or lion?” chuckled Alex, still wagging his tail.<br /> <br /> “Oh great! A lion is quite appropriate, considering my name. I certainly don’t want to be a stinking mutt – present company excepted” grumbled Leo.<br /> <br /> “No offence taken.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> The crowd, still fascinated by the blue force shield – started to disperse as their own lives needed sorting out, and as it didn’t look like Leo was going to budge.<br /> <br /> “Awww, come on man. This is getting boring. Play the game with the rest of us.” pleaded Alex, pacing up and down in front of Leo, walking quite comfortably on his new digitigrades.<br /> <br /> “Welllllll,” mused Leo, “I guess the lightning caused some sort of electrical flux – keeping whatever has caused this epidemic at bay. Perhaps we may be able to utilise it for good of mankind. Besides, I suppose I really can’t stay here forever. I’m getting hungry too.”<br /> <br /> “So let’s role. You’ll like being a wee-beasty. The tails the best bit, takes some getting use to though.” panted Alex, whilst demonstrating his new tail control.<br /> <br /> “Not if I can help it ... old boy.” said Leo, raising smoothly to an upright position. Pulling off his other glove, he mentally prepared himself to leave the bubble. <br /> <br /> “Here goes nothing.” thought Leo – and he stepped towards the blue light.<br /> <br /> He passed straight through, and into the open air. It was then that Leo noticed how ‘stuffy’ the air in the bubble had been, or was it that his sense of smell was now better? As he moved away from the bubble, the blue light faded and vanished. <br /> <br /> Leo felt a tingling sensation run up and down his back. Holding up his hands in front of his face, he saw fur sprout from his skin, and his nails grew and hardened – becoming claws.<br /> <br /> “Oh heck!” blurted Leo, trying to shut out the sloshing of his insides. “Yes, that’s it.” thought Leo, “Shut it out..... must use my concentration to hold it down.”<br /> <br /> Shutting his eyes tight, Leo stood motionless, his friend Alex and a couple other observers watching in anticipation. After about ten seconds, Leo opened his eyes, and Alex exclaimed “Hey dude, you’ve got feline eyes. Your pupils are vertical.”<br /> <br /> Breathing slightly heavily, Leo turned his head to look at Alex.<br /> <br /> “Fffffffffantastic.... a lion it is then!” Leo hair then started to ruffle. His dark brown, straight hair suddenly bleached to a dusty blond, and grew down to his shoulders. It also developed a distinct wave.<br /> <br /> “Another one bites the dust. He’s changing too.” muttered one of the spectators.<br /> <br /> “No I’m bloody not!” scolded Leo, and with a wave of his hand, he seemed to return to his normal relaxed posture.<br /> <br /> “There now old boy.... told you I could it!”<br /> <br /> “Do what?” enquired Alex, his lupine features twisted in slight confusion.<br /> <br /> “Beat the system. I’m not going to be like the rest of you. I’m sticking with cutlery!”<br /> <br /> “You don’t understand man..... you’re a lion now.” growled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, possibly – but in my defence – not as much changed as the rest of you.” smirked Leo, as he replaced his gloves and his shades. It was true, for the only morphing that showed now on Leo was a wavy blond mane rather than dark brown hair. Even his face (apart from his eyes) hadn’t changed.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps it wasn’t you – but the lightning that beat the system?” murmured Alex. <br /> <br /> “Again........ perhaps?” replied Leo, as he reached for his backpack, pulling out his personal stereo. “I’m off home, fancy coming?”<br /> <br /> Alex shifted on his paws. Alex had always been more open minded than Leo – and was disappointed that his younger friend seemed so disapproving of this exciting experience.<br /> <br /> “Okay then. What you listening to?”<br /> <br /> “The Innuendo album by Queen. Here have a listen.” replied Leo, passing the headphones to Alex.<br /> <br /> Alex’s hearing was much improved, but his little pointed ears were not best placed to use the headphones. The song was ‘I’m Going Slightly Mad’<br /> <br /> “”When the outside temperature rises, and the meaning is oh so clear.<br /> One thousand and one yellow daffodils begin to dance in front of you.<br /> <br /> Oh dear!<br /> <br /> Are they trying to sell you something? You’re missing that one final screw.<br /> You’re simply not in the pink my dear – to be honest you haven’t got a clue.<br /> <br /> I’m going slightly mad! Oh dear!”” <br /> <br /> Alex chuckled. “We certainly are not in the pink anymore, unless you’re a pig morph.”<br /> <br /> “Very true.” replied Leo, taking back the headphones. “So, give me a debrief about this mass metamorphosis then”.<br /> <br /> “Well, we don’t know much. Like that guy told you earlier, every adult in the World is affected. Young kids are unchanged. Pubescent teenagers are part changed, about as much as you have. Anyone over sixteen is reaching for the flee-powder.” <br /> <br /> “A relic of the Plague perhaps?” pondered Leo.<br /> <br /> “Dunno mate. I’m no scientist.” sighed Alex. “I think most people are adapting quite well. Being very chipper – very British! That’ll please you.”<br /> <br /> “It does indeed. We beat the Plague once before – we can do it again!” boomed Leo, his pride and blood pressure rising, and his voice suddenly much deeper. Then Leo felt the uncomfortable tingling start again.<br /> <br /> “Nnnah—NO!” snarled Leo, now bent over double in pain. Alex stood in shocked silence. Leo went quiet, and then slowly stood up – arching his back. Alex eyed him carefully. A sweat had broken out on his forehead, but no change was noticeable. Perhaps his blond hair was a little longer, and he now looked like he needed a shave.<br /> <br /> “Are you okay man?” said Alex, putting his paws towards Leo.<br /> <br /> “Never better!” said Leo cheerily, back with his own voice again. Alex wasn’t convinced – but accepted his friend’s word.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I forgot. Some of us have developed special powers. Most of us can shift from this half-human form to the actual animal we resemble. The TV calls it Norm-shift. Also, some people seem to be able to pick what animal they can become. They tried reverting to human – but they get no further than just off-human.” infodumped Alex helpfully.<br /> <br /> “It’s a kind of magic indeed.” said Leo.<br /> <br /> The two friends continued towards their Hall block when without warning, a seven feet tall lizard sprang at them from behind a mound of shrubbery. Thankfully it had over-launched itself, landing a few feet past.<br /> <br /> “Shit!” growled Alex “Oh yeah... some have become dinosaurs and some have gone slightly mad!”<br /> <br /> “Only slightly mad?” laughed Leo.<br /> <br /> The lizard, which closely resembled the velociraptor from the film Jurassic Park, turned on its claws – glaring and snarling at Leo and Alex. It thrashed its long tail. Leo ducked, but Alex was caught on the muzzle – and sent flailing into the bushes.<br /> <br /> “Damn you!” cried Leo. “We’re humans. We mean you no harm.”<br /> <br /> The velociraptor peered at Leo. It studied him, as if trying to ascertain why he was not an animal or an obvious morph. Leo sensed this somehow. He took off his shades and glared back at his attacker with his bright green lion eyes.<br /> <br /> The velociraptor swung down at Leo. His reflexes improved, Leo managed to dodge the slashing claw. He had taught himself a good level of self-defence as part of his one-man militia view of the World – and this was to prove valuable now in a way he would never have imagined. Fighting a velociraptor at University!<br /> <br /> Leo sprang at the dinosaur, catching it around the neck. He yanked the creature’s neck back, trying to choke it unconscious. The velociraptor, however, managed to shake-off Leo, sending him crashing to the ground. It raised its claws, trying to hack at this pink and grey intruder. Again, Leo zipped away with microns to spare. <br /> <br /> Leo managed a spinning kick, placing a nice boot into the beast’s stomach. The velociraptor roared in pain. Taking advantage of this brief pause, Leo grabbed a handful of dirt from a nearby flowerbed, and threw it into the raptor’s eyes. Leo stood back, as his opponent flailed around – obviously not skilled in using its smell function to find its prey yet.<br /> <br /> “Whoaaa!” belched Leo. The tingling was back with a vengeance. Leo shut his eyes, and slumped to his knees, trying hard to focus. In his mind’s eye, he could see what appeared to be a door. The door was shut, but looked as if it would open. Then a strange yet familiar voice sounded in his head.<br /> <br /> DANGER DANGER, MUST RUN, GO GO GO GO.<br /> <br /> “No! I will not have this.” cried Leo. “I’m not a fucking animal.”<br /> <br /> Still feeling giddy, Leo managed to stand upright again, just in time to see the raptor recover its sight and composure.<br /> <br /> “Rrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!” roared Leo, and he leapt straight at the raptor, flying about six feet in the air. Twisting around mid-flight, Leo connected a perfect kick with his boot into the creature’s forehead. Landing perfectly on his feet, Leo turned to see the velociraptor keel over. It was still breathing, but was out cold. As he watched, the monster shrank – to form a half-human, half-dinosaur morph. Leo recognised the face – it was his tutor, Dr Smedley.<br /> <br /> “Ouch. What happened?” came a muttered growl from the bush, and Alex raised himself out of the shrubbery – rubbing his sore head.<br /> <br /> “Just failed my degree!” joked Leo, still panting. “I’ve just KO’d my form tutor.”<br /> <br /> “WOW!” shouted Alex. “You beat that raptor!”<br /> <br /> “But of course.... old boy! Anyway, no point hanging around waiting for him to see who it was who beat him – the show must go on.” replied Leo. His voice was definitely deeper and more husky, also his eyes looked even more feline and wild. <br /> <br /> Alex followed. <br /> <br /> They eventually arrived back at their respective rooms. Leo hadn’t said much since the fight, and Alex had guessed that he was battling some personal demons, so did not try and start a conversation.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmmmm” said Leo, which seemed to be his new catchphrase. “I’m intrigued by the door I saw during the fight.”<br /> <br /> “Door, what door?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “The door in my mind. I concentrated, and saw a door. As I approached it, some strange voice in my head started barking orders at me.”<br /> <br /> “Ah, that’s your norm-shift! I’ve got that door too, and when you go through it – you become the complete animal.”<br /> <br /> “Alex, you were always the complete animal.” joked Leo, still sounding somewhat strained. <br /> <br /> “Shut up. Here let me show you.” replied Alex, mocking anger.<br /> <br /> Leo watched as Alex began to hunch over. More fur sprouted over his body, and in flash and a crunch – he was a snarling timber wolf.<br /> <br /> “Impressive.” said Leo in his best Darth Vader voice, now made much more easy by his changed larynx. Alex morphed back into his half-human form. <br /> <br /> “What da’ya think?”<br /> <br /> “Not bad at all. But do you get those voices in your head?”<br /> <br /> “Yep, that’s your instincts talking. They’re there to help you – you just got to learn to control them.” explained Alex.<br /> <br /> “Control........ yes that was the key.” thought Leo. “If I can control it, then I may not go barking mad after all.”<br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> It was another bright, June morning. Leo awoke early, as usual.<br /> <br /> “What a horrible dream!” he moaned, and scratched his head. “Damn it.... claws. It’s bloody real after all.” Leo grabbed his dressing gown, and wandered into his bathroom. Gazing into the mirror, he raised a quizzical, yellow eyebrow.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmmm..... not much to report. Eyes still green...... oh well.”<br /> <br /> Leo finished his personal inspection, and got dressed. The weather was warmer today – so he decided to forgo his trench coat and gloves. Switching on the television – every channel (or at least those operating) were devoted to the Change – not unsurprisingly. <br /> <br /> Knock Knock!<br /> <br /> “Morning!” growled a familiar voice from behind the door.<br /> <br /> “Greetings old boy.” replied Leo, as he leapt across his room in one bound. Pulling open the door, Alex the wolf grinned back.<br /> <br /> “How ya feeeeling today?” enquired the timber wolf enthusiastically.<br /> <br /> “Pretty good really. Teeth are now giving me jip – but other than that. Fine.”<br /> <br /> “You don’t know what you are missing mate.” said Alex, as he swished his tail around in the air.<br /> <br /> “Humph!” retorted Leo, and walked back into his room. “Have you heard from your folks?”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, they’re fine. Mum is a cat and Dad’s a badger. Both fairly low-degree. How about you?”<br /> <br /> “Oh” said Leo quietly, “Better than could be expected. Dad’s a high-degree Kestrel, and Mum’s a low-degree rabbit. Not the perfect married match – but Mum’s bigger than Dad now, so they get along okay.”<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s go and get some munchies” begged Alex, licking his long teeth.<br /> <br /> “Sure” and Leo grabbed his wallet from the desk, and followed his friend down the corridor. “I’ve been looking into my ‘powers’ and I think I’ve got something called degree control: being able to keep myself as close to humanoid as makes no difference. In fact, the few extras I’ve got like increased hearing, smell and strength are pretty damn first class.”<br /> <br /> “Why are you soooo afraid of becoming your full morph?” asked Alex. “It’s not that bad, really.”<br /> <br /> “You said the same about smoking cannabis. Where did that get you?” retorted Leo.<br /> <br /> “A whole bunch of new friends and an expanded view of the World.” <br /> <br /> “Did you ever hallucinate this?” asked Leo sarcastically .<br /> <br /> “No way man. Yesterday and today are totally ‘out there’!”<br /> <br /> Upon leaving their dorm building, a whole rush of sweet smells filled their nostrils. They emanated from the nearby cafeteria.<br /> <br /> “Bacon and eggs?” enquired Alex.<br /> <br /> “No, smells more like tomatoes and sausages to me.” replied Leo. “I wonder which of us has the keenest olfactory nerves?” <br /> <br /> “Dunno, biology was never my strong point.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Was anything your strong point?” asked Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo and Alex managed to track down their circle of friends, and compare stories. All were shocked, and fascinated to see Leo – being virtually human. His blond mane suited him, and his hands were not proper paws, just fingers with fur and long nails really. Other than that, his night’s sleep had only succeeded to extending his fangs by a tiny amount.<br /> <br /> George, the rugby player, was now an impressive black stallion – almost totally norm. Little Mick Plasters was some type of bush baby – not the most flattering of changes, but somewhat appropriate it was felt. The hippy twins Rhapsody and Robert were female and male otters respectively, both fairly low degree. Finally, and much to Leo great joy – was Catherine, the girl he secretly desired, was now a seductive, sexy lioness. As Leo gazed upon her, he felt she was made in heaven. Could things get any more wonderfully awkward? <br /> <br /> “Hey Leo.” purred Catherine, as he flicked her tail suggestively “You and me seem to be in the same boat.”<br /> <br /> “You’re right, a sinking one.” replied Leo tersely. He regretted being so blunt, but he didn’t want to get drawn into too much small talk about their morph-states. Everyone seemed pleased with the change, except him. <br /> <br /> “Awwww, don’t be like that.” she said. “This is probably the best thing that could have happened to this World. Now all races are mixed up – everyone is the same. This could be heaven for everyone?”<br /> <br /> Leo said nothing.<br /> <br /> “Anyway...” interjected bohemian Rhapsody, breaking the awkward silence. “Have we got any plans for this evening?”<br /> <br /> “Nope.” snorted Big George. The others just shrugged.<br /> <br /> “Fat lot of good you lot are!” sighed Alex, and turned to Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo had his eyes shut, as if in deep thought. Alex gave his friend a quick look up and down, and turned back to Big George and the others. Leo had felt something touch his ankle, and slide up the side of his boot and tap him on the knee. It was a claw. A furry claw. Catherine’s claw! He opened his eyes, to see her smiling at him, with an enticingly innocent look in her eyes. She signalled with her right paw towards the canteen exit.<br /> <br /> “Hey guys, I’m just gonna go out for some air.” said Catherine, “Fancy a walk Leo?”<br /> <br /> “Um, well – maybe, um no – not really.” stumbled Leo, losing his vocal fluidity for once. A sharp dig in his ribs from Alex’s elbow soon shook him to his senses.<br /> <br /> “Oh, okay then.” said Leo, and he accompanied Catherine outside. He could hear the rest of the table sniggering behind him. He had tried to keep his deep feelings for Catherine secret, but somehow Alex had guessed – and spread the word – as usual.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter Leo?” asked Catherine, taking his arm. Leo instinctively jumped on being touched.<br /> <br /> “I’m okay. I’m just not that keen on all this change situation. I was quite happy with the way things were.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t think you are ever happy.” sighed Catherine.<br /> <br /> “That’s not true!” snapped Leo, “What makes you say that?” <br /> <br /> “Oh, just that you always seem jumpy and aggressive – like you’re bottling something up. Not just today – but ever since I’ve known you. Why don’t you enjoy life – chill out a bit. I mean, you even wear a ceremonial uniform to lectures.” <br /> <br /> “I thought you liked my clothes.” said Leo, somewhat disappointedly.<br /> <br /> “I do, I do – but you should try and vary it a bit – Vader Boy.”<br /> <br /> The sun beamed down, warming them as they walked. In fact, Leo was getting increasingly hot – and itchy. They walked down towards the campus lake, seeing a whale blow a jet of water from it spout at the other end.<br /> <br /> “It’s a beautiful day, Leo, don’t you think?” <br /> <br /> “If you say so.”<br /> <br /> “Have you found out why you are still human-ish?” asked Catherine.<br /> <br /> “It’s basically like I told the rest. I was struck by lightning at the instant the change took place. I was protected by a bubble of some kind – and when I left it, the change was in this reduced form. I did feel a bit.... but.....” He suddenly stopped, not wanting to continue.<br /> <br /> “But what?” asked Catherine, spinning round to face Leo.<br /> <br /> “But nothing!” shouted Leo, the anger in him suddenly and uncontrollably rising. He swooned as the tingling feelings of yesterday returned.<br /> <br /> “I only asked.” snapped Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Woooo, um – I don’t feel so good old girl” spluttered Leo. He stumbled about, eventually falling to his knees.<br /> <br /> “Hey – what’s the matter?” asked Catherine, only half believing Leo was really in trouble. Leo didn’t reply, but started snarling.<br /> <br /> “Stop that, you are not impressing me.” said Catherine, arms folded over her furry chest.<br /> <br /> Leo looked up at her, his face twisted in agony. His breathing was becoming deeper. His grunts and snarls more pronounced. As Catherine looked closer, she could see fur poking out around Leo’s collar. His hands too were slowly widening and thickening. For Leo, the worse change was in his mind.<br /> <br /> The mental door was slowly opening in his mind. He tried to see through, to touch the freedom and release on the other side – but something was tugging at him, holding him and his humanity together. Deep, guttural voices thundered in his angst-ridden mind. <br /> <br /> “RELEASE YOURSELF...... RELEASE YOURSELF” they cried.<br /> <br /> Leo opened his eyes, to see a very concerned lioness looking down at him. He tried to look around at himself. He first saw his hands, or were they paws? No, they were hands – they must be hands. He, Leo, was not going to succumb to nature, not now – not ever!!!!<br /> <br /> The tingling reached the base of his spine. There was something like warm, twitching rope filling the seat of his trousers. Leo felt his boots stretch and strain as his feet became digitigrade. His clothes became painfully tight; and fur was now spreading all over his body.<br /> <br /> “NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!” roared Leo, springing to his feet. His eyes burned bright green as he glared at Catherine. Slowly, his features relaxed. The pressure in his body receded, and his limbs shrank back. In an instant, everything was normal again.<br /> <br /> “Y..you.... want to tell me ss..something?” asked Catherine, somewhat shakily.<br /> <br /> “No, everything is okay now my dear. Everything!” said Leo, his face rigid as steel.<br /> <br /> “Sure?” replied Catherine sarcastically, but Leo didn’t answer. They carried on walking around the lake, talking idly about nothing in particular. Leo refused to discuss his little turn, and Catherine not wanting to push him over it either. Eventually, they returned to the canteen.<br /> <br /> “Have fun?” asked Alex as the pair re-entered their room. The other friends had already left.<br /> <br /> “Urm.... yes, thanks.” said Leo, avoiding eye contact.<br /> <br /> “A very interesting walk.” added Catherine coolly.<br /> <br /> “Oh,” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Yes, time I was making a move, and Catherine’s got to go home” said Leo.<br /> <br /> “I’m got to do what?” interrupted Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Coming Alex?” continued Leo, ignoring Catherine.<br /> <br /> “Urh – okay.” replied the wolf.<br /> <br /> Catherine tried to kiss Leo on the cheek, but he turned away. Catherine was left alone in the canteen, with Leo storming off out of the door, Alex in hot pursuit.<br /> <br /> “What the hell are you playing at!” shouted Alex, grabbing Leo’s arm with his claw. <br /> <br /> “What are you going on about?” replied Leo dismissively.<br /> <br /> “The way you are treating Catherine! You might as well have spat in her face back there.” snarled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Keep your bloody nose out of this!” growled Leo, pushing Alex away.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Don’t get shirty with me - pal.” snapped Alex, putting his muzzle close to Leo’s face.<br /> <br /> “Shut up!” roared Leo, and he grabbed Alex around the neck.<br /> <br /> “Stop that Leo. You’re hurting......” spluttered Alex, trying to pull Leo’s hands away. Leo’s green eyes flashed, his grip remaining rock solid.<br /> <br /> “Urgh...... stop.” moaned Alex, who eventually managed to pull himself free. He crumpled onto the ground, his huge tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Leo seemed adrift in a world of his own, for a moment no longer hearing his friend.<br /> <br /> “I...I...I’m sorry.” said Leo, the tenseness in his body shrinking away.<br /> <br /> “Okay man,” said Alex, “What is the problem?”<br /> <br /> “I.... I don’t know. I’m still having those lapses. I had a very bad one when walking with Catherine. The door in my mind was almost open.” said Leo softly.<br /> <br /> “But why did you treat Catherine so badly?” continued Alex.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know,” answered Leo, “She is so wonderful. Perhaps I’m frightened of what she is tempting me with.”<br /> <br /> “Sorry, I don’t follow.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “Geeez, do you want me to spell it out for you? I’m in love with Catherine. She loves me. We are both lions. It’s too perfect. Too tempting. If I couple with her – I may go fully leonine.”<br /> <br /> “And?” retorted Alex, “What is wrong with that?”<br /> <br /> “I’m not like you. I don’t want to be an animal. I feel under pressure to conform, but I’m not prepared to go through with it.” explained Leo.<br /> <br /> “Liar!” blurted Alex, “You just can’t handle women.”<br /> <br /> “Think what you like.” said Leo, and he turned and continued walking.<br /> <br /> “That crazy little thing called love....” sighed Alex, and he followed after Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo strode towards the halls of residence, a renewed determination on his face. Alex caught up with him, intrigued by his friend’s expression.<br /> <br /> “What we doing now?” asked Alex tentatively.<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some research to do. Last night I was reading up about the properties of lightning and its affect upon natural physiology. From what I gathered on the news, the current theory on the Change is that it is some kind of quantum flux – bending reality; and not a viral epidemic as we first thought.” explained Leo.<br /> <br /> “Oh...” muttered Alex, “I’m sorry I asked.”<br /> <br /> The two friends continued towards Leo’s room. The sun was beginning to sink, and they only passed a few morphs on their journey. They did notice, however, a couple of lizards who seemed to be following them – albeit at a discreet distance. Leo was certainly becoming notorious around campus as the man who defied the universe.<br /> <br /> “I still don’t get why you were so hard on Cat?” asked Alex.<br /> <br /> “Cat? Oh, Catherine.” mused Leo, “Well, I guess I was a bit tough – and hey, sorry about throttling you back there.”<br /> <br /> “No probs mate. Didn’t realise you were that strong.” smirked Alex, rubbing his neck.<br /> <br /> Upon reaching his room, Leo ushered Alex inside – checking to see if they were still being trailed. They were.<br /> <br /> “Damn it.” growled Leo “Those police lizards are still out there.”<br /> <br /> “How do you know they’re police?”<br /> <br /> “It’s obvious.” said Leo, “They look shifty, go around in pairs and are wearing old duffel coats.”<br /> <br /> “Figures.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> Leo rummaged on his desk, pulling out a tatty folder from the pile of papers. Alex flopped onto the bed, glad to be resting his paws for a bit.<br /> <br /> “Here.” said Leo, opening up the folder to reveal a list of strange formulas.<br /> <br /> “What?”<br /> <br /> “The answer to our problems.” replied Leo.<br /> <br /> “Sorry pal, I’m not following.” said ALex.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, how did you ever get into University in the first place. This is the key for unlocking the change. I’ve formulated that a controlled dose of electricity will trigger the powers necessary to revert people to their human self, or at least as much as me. I can’t really explain the details – but it undoes the metabolisms reaction to the quantum flux.” said Leo.<br /> <br /> “Huh?” grumbled Alex.<br /> <br /> “Either by using electromagnetic forces, or even radiation – we could basically get back to normal. It might not totally send things back to how they were, but at least tails will be off the fashion list.”<br /> <br /> “Oh no!” said Alex, “I like mine. Anyway, why haven’t you tried out this super theory of yours?”<br /> <br /> “I hardly likely to stick my fingers in an electric socket, and see what happens. Besides, I don’t need the treatment. I’m okay!”<br /> <br /> “Yeah right, you weren’t so hot when you went for a walk earlier.” said Alex.<br /> <br /> “That was different. I was preoccupied then.” replied Leo tersely.<br /> <br /> “Well, I’m not gonna be your guinea pig.” said Alex, “I like being a wolf.”<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry old bean. I haven’t got any equipment to use anyway – so you’re quite safe.” soothed Leo. Alex got up from the bed, and wandered to the door.<br /> <br /> “Where are you going?” asked Leo, astonished.<br /> <br /> “I’m going home – you seem pretty well occupied here.”<br /> <br /> “Suit yourself!” snapped Leo, and he sat down at his desk. Alex closed the door behind him.<br /> <br /> Alex padded across the corridor to his own room. The lizardmen had gone, but Alex was concerned by their earlier presence. Was Leo right? Were the police following them?<br /> <br /> Evening came, and Leo was still hard at work on his research when there was a knock at the door. Leo stiffened. Alex always did a ‘rata-tat-tat’ when he knocked. This had been a single thump. Cautiously, Leo crept towards the door – straining with his improved hearing to make out any clue as to the identity of the visitor. He heard nothing, but he smelt something distinct, something leonine. It was Catherine! Leo slowly opened the door, to see a beaming lioness-morph.<br /> <br /> “Hi Leo, I was worried about you.” she said.<br /> <br /> “I’m fine thanks. Come in, I need to apologise for today.” replied Leo. Catherine slunk sexily into the room, swishing her tail as she went.<br /> <br /> “Catherine, look, I’m sorry for being so hard today. I’m just not feeling too good since the Change.” he explained.<br /> <br /> “I understand,” Catherine said softly, “But I really don’t know what eating you. You have far less to worry about than the rest of us. You are the least changed adult in the World.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, and I wish to stay that way.” whispered Leo, pointing to his papers on the desk.<br /> <br /> “What are those?” asked Catherine.<br /> <br /> “They are a formula I’ve been working on that may return us all to human. I’m basing the idea on the lightning that hit me yesterday.”<br /> <br /> “Will it work?” she asked.<br /> <br /> “Don’t know yet – haven’t got any equipment to try it out. Am I’m not even sure that the formula is right. I’ve been at it for hours – but its getting so complicated.” <br /> <br /> “Take a break. Things always look easier when they are looked at fresh.” soothed Catherine, ruffling Leo’s hair. Leo squinted as she touched him, but relaxed again almost immediately.<br /> <br /> “You’re right, fancy a drink.” said Leo, uncharacteristically cheerily.<br /> <br /> “Yes please!” squealed Catherine. That was the first time Leo had ever offered to go for a drink.<br /> <br /> The couple walked towards the student bar. The sun was already down, and a cool breeze filled the air. Catherine held tightly onto Leo’s arm, laying her head on his shoulder as they walked.<br /> <br /> Leo noticed a sound coming from behind them. He wouldn’t have normally noticed things like that, but his new senses detected that the sound, similar to footsteps, sounded hurried but hesitant, as if following something. Leo turned his head around, only to see a shadow disappear behind down an alley.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Catherine concerned.<br /> <br /> “Oh, nothing old girl.” replied Leo, “Just thought I heard something.”<br /> <br /> “You are getting too paranoid.” <br /> <br /> “Just because I’m paranoid, does not mean that they are not out to get me.” moaned Leo.<br /> <br /> “Get who? Get what?” sighed Catherine.<br /> <br /> ZIPPPP!<br /> <br /> “Ouch!” cried Leo, feeling the back of his neck. A small toxin dart poked out from his collar.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Catherine, just as another projectile struck her as well. <br /> <br /> “G-gotta r-run.....” croaked Leo as the sleeping drug took affect. Both of them collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.<br /> <br /> <br /> ###########<br /> They are kidnapped by lizard police, and taken to a disused factory. Put in cages, police want to know Leo’s secret, because knowledge of it might make people want to return human – therefore civil unrest, but also the government want the power for themselves. They are going to get the secret, and turn Leo permanently into lion so he cannot talk. Catherine acts as a further worry for Leo.<br /> <br /> Leo proves too mentally strong, and the lizards attempt to norm-shift him results in the lion springing from his mind. Therefore human Leo and feline Lion are in the cage at the same time. This leaves a perfectly human Leo very weak. He remerges with the lion to escape and rescue Cat, but his research is destroyed, and so he learns to accept his leonine side.<br /> <br /> #############<br /> TO BE CONTINUED.....................<br /> <br /> All lyrics and song titles are copyright of Queen Music Ltd.<br /> <br /> <br /> ##################################################################<br /> Leo twitched in his cage. The empowered lizard-morph stalked around the outside of the cage, mentally pummelling Leo with blasts of (####power to shift someone energy####). Leo bit his lip as the surges of energy ran through his body. He could not fall to his norm-half. He had held out so long, possibly the most human adult in the World – and with the gifts the blue lightning had given him – he dare not fall. The World depended on him.<br /> <br /> “Aaargh!” roared Leo, as the lizard’s power grew. More fur sprouted over Leo’s face and arms. His wavy blond hair started to grow longer, joining with the tufts now poking out of the collar of his t-shirt.<br /> <br /> Leo puts his clawed hands onto the cage bars, and dragged himself to an upright posture. He saw his hands shrink in length, and then spread wider, into paws – pads forming on his palms.<br /> <br /> “No, I shall not let you do this.” bellowed Leo. Alex watched on, now barely recognising his friend’s voice. Leo shut his eyes, and focused all of his energy at the lizard’s consciousness. Just as he felt the change subside and retract, another member of the cult scuttled to the lizard’s side. It too focused its energies on Leo.<br /> <br /> “You are dangerousssssss boy.” hissed the first lizard. “We cannot allow you to be so human, so powerful, in a World of morphs.”<br /> <br /> Leo was now outnumbered two to one. The fur returned to his neck and arms. His hands lost any appearance of humanity – becoming perfect claws.– and there was a twinging, tickling sensation at the base of his spine. As Leo grimaced, a tail began to fill the seat of his jeans.<br /> <br /> “Nooooooooooooooooooo!” screamed Leo; and with a wave of blue light – Leo was immediately back in his near-humanoid form again. Both lizards had been flung to ground by the energy blast, and there prowling around outside the cage was a lion.<br /> <br /> “It can’t be. He’sssss too sssstrong!” hissed the lizard, who fled the room.<br /> <br /> “You did it.” howled Alex, wagging his tail. “How did you manage that?”<br /> <br /> “I... I d-don’t kknow.” whispered Leo painfully, clutching his stomach. “I did it!”<br /> <br /> To Be Continued…</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=The_Evil_Gnome&diff=9330 2008-11-27T21:48:49Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend.<br /> <br /> It was late evening, and John Harrow was walking back home from his girlfriend’s house. It had been a good night, and after a romantic meal she had agreed to his idea of buying a house together. She had offered him a lift home, but John had declined – not wanting her to be out this late, even if driving.<br /> <br /> His journey home took him across the edge of the woods at the foot of Clayton Hill. As dark and creepy as this route was, it far more preferable than having to take the main road past the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, and also cut nearly half-a-mile off the journey. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and John walked confidently albeit briskly. <br /> Some superstitious locals would have questioned his choice of route, but John was not bothered by silly ancient legends. The tale of the Evil Gnome of Clayton Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane,<br /> <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> <br /> and when you finally see him, <br /> <br /> you will wish you stayed at home… <br /> <br /> On this long and lonely lane, <br /> <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> <br /> and when you finally meet him, <br /> <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> John remembered the stories from when he was a child. His Grandfather would come up stairs to tell him a ghost story before bedtime, much to John’s mother’s disapproval, but the Grandfather always maintained he spoke the truth. The legend ran that the Evil Gnome was the ghost of a deformed hermit who lived on the Hill and had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his execution, the hermit’s ghost was alleged to have started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Adults caught on the Hill after dark could be driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken, or so the legend told. The sceptical believed that these latter victims were simply drunks who stumbled over the numerous rocky outcrops and fell to their deaths at night. <br /> <br /> John’s Grandfather elaborated the tale, he said that the Evil Gnome would come and get John if he didn’t behave. The Evil Gnome lived in the cracks in the walls, the cracks in the pavement. You could lock your doors and windows, it would do no good – he would find a way in. There was no hiding from the Evil Gnome. <br /> <br /> There was always the real event of little Jimmy Taylor, who ran away from home twenty years ago. His friend Mike said he had seen him with a small thin man on the Hill, but this was put down to an overactive imagination. Jimmy was never found. John of course didn’t believe the ghostly stories, but thought it would make a good film one day. <br /> <br /> John turned off the road, and vaulted over the stile that led up to then slopes. The concrete and asphalt of the footway very soon gave way to gravel, mud and twigs once it entered the trees. John had walked this path many times, but this was the first time at night alone. John was fit, regularly attending the gym – and the gentle slope did not deter him from maintaining a brisk pace. It was only about ten minutes and John had reached the highest point of the path. <br /> <br /> “Good, down hill now” he thought to himself. The path now entered the more thickly wooded leeward side of the hill, and the friendly scattered trees that had been his companions so far were now replaced by twisted, low-branched, crowded broadleaves – closing in over the path with a slight air of menace, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. <br /> <br /> John had not been long in the dark woods when there was a cracking sound from the path behind him. At first John didn’t even notice it, but after a few more foot falls – he became aware of its presence. Surely, just twigs falling from the trees, but there was no wind that night.<br /> <br /> “Stupid foxes” muttered John to himself.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I am talking to myself now” thought John. He started whistling. The cracking sound got louder. <br /> <br /> John quickened his pace, but the cracking sound kept up. John glanced nervously over his shoulder. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Was that a dark shape hovering about twenty feet behind him?<br /> <br /> “John, stop it!” he audibly told himself, trying to shake off his paranoia. Just then an icy breath blew on his neck causing John to shiver. <br /> <br /> “Hey!” John spun around again. No one was there, but it was starting to get misty. John felt a small kernel of panic growing in his chest. He scoffed at ghosts and goblins, but something was controlling his imagination now. The more he looked in the fractured moonlight, the more he convinced himself that shapes were moving in the mist behind him. <br /> <br /> “Stupid, stupid” said John, loud enough to startle a near-by squirrel. “I am not in some horror B-movie.” <br /> <br /> John walked briskly along the path. The chill on his neck became more intense. He tried to ignore the feelings his imagination was playing on him, and tried to think of anything other than his Grandfather’s eerie tales. <br /> <br /> “If I saw an evil gnome, I’d break his bloody fishing rod” laughed John nervously to himself.<br /> <br /> The mist was entwining itself around his legs, like spectral hands, holding him back. There was a loud crunch on the path behind him. John took one last look behind. He was sure there was definitely something on the path behind him, the mist was being disturbed by something or someone. <br /> <br /> John stood momentarily rooted to the ground, but when nothing appeared out of the misty darkness, he regained his self-control and began to run along the path, home. <br /> The cracks became thumps, the mist was overtaking him. John was running faster and faster. His heart was pounding. He dared not look behind him. The dread sight of what could be following him was too much. John’s lungs screamed for some respite, but his mind drove him on. Home, he must get home, where there was light and safety. Home!<br /> <br /> John stumbled out of the woods and onto the road. No streetlights warmed this part of town, but John could see by the moon and the way home was familiar to him. He took one fleeting glimpse back at the woods but saw nothing following him. He paused momentarily to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing but thankful he was out of the woods. After gathering his thoughts for a second, John began again on his journey. The lights of the town centre were nearing and the first houses was just in front on his left. <br /> <br /> “Nearly there..” thought John to himself, “Nearly there..”<br /> <br /> An icy chill then ran over John’s back and neck, and he instinctively looked behind before he could stop himself, but there was nothing to be seen.<br /> <br /> He eventually made it to his street and pounded up the path to his front door. He felt sure that once he was inside, he would be safe. Monsters only lived in dark woods and not in cosy houses.<br /> <br /> John checked all the doors and windows. Bolted and secure. He was safe. Suddenly feeling a little silly, he sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. <br /> <br /> “Whoa, John my boy. You are getting silly. There are no such things as ghosts. You fool. Still that was a good bit of exercise” he thought.<br /> <br /> John thought back to his Grandfather’s stories about how the Evil Gnome sought out naughty or lost children, even in their own homes.<br /> <br /> “I’m twenty nine, not a child.”<br /> <br /> After making himself a drink and checking the football results on the TV, John felt that he must get some sleep before he dozed off on the sofa. Going slowly upstairs, John left the hall light on, just for reassurance. In his bedroom, all was dark and calm. John sighed, undressed and slumped on the bed. The chill on his back still seemed to be there however, even though the house was warm and the bed comforting. John looked across at the half-open bedroom door, and felt an inner vulnerability that he never normally felt. He got up, shut door and locked it. He then went over to the windows, and locked them too. Without consciously knowing why, he took the key out of the lock, tore up some paper tissues and stuffed them into the keyhole. He then put the key on his bedside table. Once again flopping down on his bed, John at last felt safe, alone and relaxed. Nothing would find him here, neither real nor imagined bogeymen. John leaned across flick off his bedside lamp.<br /> <br /> Suddenly out of the darkness came a disembodied voice. It said menacingly “Good, now we are both shut in for the night......””<br /> <br /> ----<br /> <br /> “Booo!” cried Jack, jumping up from his seat in the boat.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jack, stop pissing about!” shouted Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Lighten up dude!” replied Jack, “You don’t really believe in ghosts do you? I was only having a bit of fun!”<br /> <br /> “Well, it wasn’t very funny” added Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Children, children” said Jed, as he put down his book he had been reading to the others.<br /> <br /> Jack sat back down in the little dinghy, his rocking motion antics still being felt in the stomachs of his friends. The small dinghy bobbed and swayed in the swirling wind. What had started as a fun fishing trip was losing its novelty fast. The fine weather had broken, no fish had been caught and tempers were now fraying. <br /> <br /> They had all, reluctantly, followed Jack’s suggestion of a bit of sea fishing, and now he was the first to become bored. Nevertheless, it was the last day of their holiday and were all determined to have a good time. <br /> <br /> Clayton-on-Sea was not your typical holiday destination. A medium sized seaside town, it had definitely seen better days. It perfectly encapsulated the ‘end of the railway line’ bleakness, being stranded on the end of long peninsula with very few hills to give any protection from the wind and rain blowing up the English Channel. The one geographical feature of note was Clayton Hill – mentioned in the ghost story and truly known locally and infamously as Claw Hill. It was a large rock monolith left behind from years of coastal erosion. Its rutted and pitted escarpments gave it the appearance of a large clawed beast, sitting ready to pounce over the town at its base. At least it has escaped the widespread rioting and civil unrest affecting most of New Britain at that time.<br /> <br /> The four friends had met at college and had thought that a week away to mark the end of their last summer before going off to University would be good idea. Aidan Beaufort and Elizabeth Quinn had been dating for over a year now and had spent the majority of the holiday in their room, studious Jed Holden was a year older and wanted some quiet time to read away from the pressures of home and to prepare for his degree but had been largely prevented from doing this by the fourth member of the group, the heavy partying Jack Storm. Jack idea of a good time was trying to consume a brewery’s worth of alcohol in one night, trying to sleep with as many ‘chicks’ (as he called them) as possible before waking up in some random location before doing it all over again the next night. Orphaned as a baby and spending most of his life in abusive institutional care had obviously affected him. He often pestered Jed to join him in his nightclub adventures, which usually ended with Jed carrying the unconscious Jack back at 4am.<br /> Jack kicked the floor of the boat in boredom, but then produced a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket.<br /> <br /> “Alright then, who’s for a game of strip poker?” he said almost menacingly, looking straight at Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Get lost you creep,” sniped Elizabeth. <br /> <br /> “Aww, you’re no fun” sulked Jack as he put down the cards, and pulled out a cigarette and matches from his pocket.<br /> <br /> “Oh, don’t smoke – it stinks” moaned Elizabeth, and she snatched the matches from Jack’s hand.<br /> <br /> “Cow!” cursed Jack, and sat back sulking. <br /> <br /> “Hey, you take that back,” interrupted Aidan, protecting his girlfriend.<br /> <br /> “I have a better idea. A magic trick” said Jed, putting down his book and taking pack from between Jack’s feet. Jed shuffled the pack, and then started to flick through the corners of them, holding the cards so only the others could see them. “Say stop and look at the card revealed” said Jed.<br /> <br /> Jack said “Stop!” almost immediately, hoping to catch Jed out. <br /> <br /> Jed said “Remember the card but don’t tell me.” He then reshuffled the pack and began to turn each one over dropping them face-up on the floor of the boat one by one. He had thrown all the cards in his hand onto floor and then said “Did you see your card drop?”<br /> <br /> “No.” said Elizabeth, puzzled.<br /> <br /> “Look in your jacket pocket.” he said to Jack, and there was the chosen card – the jack of clubs.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Hell Dread! You jammy Arse. Ever since you got into all that magic and hypnotism at the ruddy joke shop in town, you’ve been showing off too much.” said Jack. <br /> <br /> “My name’s Jed, not Dread, and well, it seemed appropriate for you – Sir JACK of the NightCLUBS.”<br /> <br /> “Again, again.” said Elizabeth, but a rumble of thunder cut the frivolity in an instant. <br /> <br /> “Think we’d better get back.” said Jed, looking concerned at the growing black cloud in the mid-distance. The four of them put the fishing equipment away and Aidan pulled the cord for the motor, but a smokey splutter was all his reward.<br /> <br /> “Try again.” said Elizabeth nervously, but the motor still did not respond.<br /> <br /> “The sails.” ordered Jed, and with some difficulty they raised the flimsy canvas. None of them were experienced sailors and it soon dawned on them that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for them to have any hope of making back to Clayton Marina, the technique of tacking being beyond even cerebral Jed. <br /> <br /> “It’s no use, we must get shore and find some cover.” said Jed, as lighting flashed, another thunderclap sounded and now hail began to fall. The wind was blowing them quite fast, towards the dunes and the ruined manor on the foreshore.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps we can hide out in that old house?” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “You can, I’d rather take my chance with the storm.” replied Elizabeth, “It looks unsafe.”<br /> <br /> “You might be right.” said Jed. “That place looks certainly as though it has seen better days. Locally it’s called the Wave House”.<br /> <br /> Jed had been reading Overlooked Britain by local author Professor Hercules Leviathan Scudder – full of myths, legends and factual history about their island home. He explained that once, Berry Manor had been an impressive Victorian manor – perched on shingle banks overlooking Clayton Bay. To its rear were formal gardens that backed onto the woods at one end of Clayton or ‘Claw’ Hill, intersected by a narrow country lane leading back to Clayton town centre, but since the World War, Berry Manor was not much more than a crumbling, eerie and deserted ruin. <br /> <br /> Its last owner, Gethin Kerr, was a despised local figure who had been suspected of shooting his older brother in the back to inherit the house and land. Although arrested and question, Kerr’s guilt could never be proven at the time and after release, Kerr lived alone in the house, shunned by the people of Clayton. One night, a huge storm blew in from the sea – breaking through the dune defences and swamping Berry Manor and its grounds. Gethin Kerr was never seen again and it was widely believed that he had received divine justice for his crime.<br /> The surrounding land became salt marsh regularly flooded at high tide. No heirs could be found for Kerr and the house passed to the local council, who left it to collapse into the sea. High metal fencing was erected on the landward side to keep people out of the dangerous structure and only the brave or foolhardy could approach the water-lapped building from the sea, hence its new nickname – the Wave House. Strange lights could be seen there at night, and eerie sounds could be heard after dark. These were dismissed as marsh gas and the wind; but the legends persisted that the site was haunted.<br /> <br /> The dinghy beached itself on the shore and the friends nervously clambered out. The quartet pulled the boat as far up the beach as possible and looked about. The tide was also sweeping in and had already cut off any hope of walking along the beach back to Clayton. They had no option but trudge inland over the bog and past the Wave House. They squelched their way up the bramble bank and got a better look at the house. It stood in large, overgrown gardens, with muddy channels criss-crossing what had once been manicured lawns. The windows were mostly smashed or boarded up, but all the ground floor ones had metal grills fixed over them to stop vandals entering. The ragged remains of heavy weather-worn curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning to the passers-by of the menace within. <br /> <br /> “Man, that place looks like the perfect haunted house. Wooooo!” joked Jack, running a fingery hand over Elizabeth’s shoulder, making her jump.<br /> <br /> The four of them scrambled down and picked their way through the boggy grounds looking for the drive that would lead them back to the main road. It was difficult to find their footings in the growing gloom and the rain made the ground even more slippery.<br /> <br /> “Curse this, I’m going to hide out of the rain.” said Jack, and he veered over to the ruined house. <br /> <br /> “Come back.” said Jed, but Jack was already at the door. The others followed, reluctantly, as the rain pelted even harder.<br /> <br /> Out of sight of the friends, in the dark corner of the grounds, a lumbering two-legged shape stalked their movements, its long scythe-like weapon trailing in the mud behind its uneven steps. <br /> <br /> Upon entering the hall of the Wave House, all four were surprised to find that it was much less ruined than the decrepit outside would have suggested. It put Jed in mind of a theme park ghost train ride that was all haunted old ruin on the outside, but concrete and steel building inside. The hall was very dark, lit only by the twilight from the open door and smashed windows, but it was smooth floored with wood panelling on the walls, but lacking furniture, save a few book cases and wardrobes.<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s have a look around.” said Jack and he darted off through another door into one of the reception rooms. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth followed cagily, only for Jack to jump out from behind the door with a loud “Boo!”<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed.<br /> <br /> “You idiot!” said Aidan and he sprung at Jack and gave him a shove that made Jack stumble backwards. He nearly regained his footing before his left foot caught itself on a loose brick on the floor and he crashed back against one of the wooden panels on the wall. It swung back effortlessly and Jack fell into the void, with the panel clicking shut behind him!<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” screamed Aidan, and he ran over and pummelled on the panel, trying to get it to open.<br /> <br /> “Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” shouted Jed. The only sound was the wind outside. The three remaining looked at each other in horror.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Jack picked himself up off the floor. He guessed that he must have fallen at least fifteen feet down a smooth shoot, but apart from a few bruises – felt fine.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Aidan!” shouted Jack, but there was no hollowness to the echo and the room was pitch black. The room felt solid like a prison cell. Picking his way across the floor, Jack tripped and stumbled over objects on the floor. He held out his arms in front of him, reaching for a wall or a door. Something then knocked him in the face. It was something dangling from the roof, like a boxer’s punch bag. Jack felt uneasy. He then remembered that his mobile phone had a small LED torch built in. He reached into his pocket and was relieved that the torch still worked. He joy was short lived. The beam shone on the dangling object. It was a strange greenish-brown colour, and it dawned on Jack that it was flesh. He raised the beam up the object, and nearly vomited when he saw it had the outline of a human torso, its head held in place by a gibbet-like cage at its shoulders. The beam also illuminated some more of these corpses, hanging in rows behind this first one. As if on cue from the torch light, their putrid eyes opened and stared at Jack! <br /> <br /> “Oh my god, oh my god!” Jack cried as he staggered back in terror. Something standing behind him in the dark stopped his progress, and Jack spun round to look up. Jack barely had time to shine his torch on the creature’s armoured chest before the phone torch was knocked from his hand. The giant figure then grabbed Jack, holding him tight. Jack was turned back to look into the darkness. Two small red pinpricks of light could be seen in the darkness, low down. Out of the gloom appeared a frightful dwarf, with a long pointed finger similar to a sharp syringe. The dwarf leered at Jack, who desperately tried to break free. Suddenly the dwarf leapt into the air, landed on Jack’s chest and gabbed the syringe-like finger into Jack’s neck. The large creature released Jack as the dwarf jumped back to floor.<br /> Jack screamed in agony as dark pulsating veins erupted over his exposed skin, tracing a web towards his terrified bloodshot eyes and then darkness overtook him.<br /> <br /> Meanwhile, Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth were still trying to force open the panel, but it remained rock solid and shut. They continued to bang and shout, but no response from Jack. <br /> <br /> “I bet that creep is still playing tricks on us.” said Aidan, anger trying to cover his guilty conscience. <br /> <br /> “Come on, we must search for him. Let’s split up.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “Can I stay with Aidan”. said Elizabeth, scared.<br /> <br /> “Very well, you try opening the panel, I’ll check to see of there is a door to the cellar.” And with that Jed left.<br /> <br /> Jed looked down the hall. There seemed to be no obvious door under the staircase, and he made his way into the room which he thought might be the kitchen. There was indeed equipment in there, but not what he was expecting. Metal tanks and desks filled the room, all marked with a strange geometric symbol – a sort of cross with a straight vertical bar but a barbed horizontal one. Jed was well-read and he recognised it as an ancient runic symbol called the Wolf Hook that was used to ward off supernatural beasts, but what it was doing here he could not fathom.<br /> <br /> “Argh!” cried Jed as out of the darkness a huge blade sliced down next to him, grazing his forearm. He turned around and saw a seven foot creature, vaguely humanoid with glowing red eyes wielding a huge reaper scythe. It raised the weapon again but Jed, gritting his teeth, managed to dodge the second strike, the scythe embedding itself in the wooden floorboard<br /> Jed was temporarily disorientated by the attack, but at least the creature was relatively slow in its movements. Jed tried to clear his mind and focus, as he had trained himself to do. He saw that a large wooden cabinet rested against the main wall of the room. As the creature began to try and extricate the scythe from the floor, Jed gingerly moved over to the side of the cabinet and pulled with all his strength. The cabinet was top-heavy - it tilted and then toppled over, right on top of the creature.<br /> Jed was breathing hard, and looked down at his arm. It was only a small gash but the cut looked dirty. He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the wound clean as best he could and made for the door. <br /> <br /> Crack! Jed spun around to see the fist of the creature smash through the back of the cabinet, followed by its arm and another fist – splintering the wood as it emerged. Just at this point, Jack appeared at the door.<br /> <br /> “Dread, this way!” he shouted, and Jed clambered over the broken piled of equipment to make his way out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him.<br /> <br /> “What happened Dread?” said Jack.<br /> <br /> “Dunno. Someone attacked me. Huge man, looked freaky. Where have you been?” spluttered Jed.<br /> <br /> “No where. Sounds weird Dread” said Jack. Jed looked at his friend, unsure of his feelings.<br /> <br /> “Jack, can’t you say anything but Dread?”<br /> <br /> The evening light shone down the hall. It had an almost spectral quality. Jack looked blankly at Jed, not answering. At that point there was a break in the clouds. Moonlight shone straight down the hall, silhouetting Jack. Jed was dismayed to see strange luminous purple and green veins glowing under Jack’s skin.<br /> <br /> “Jack, what’s wrong?” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “I have a gift, I have a gift, I have a gift…” repeated Jack, as if in a trance.<br /> <br /> “Jack!” shouted Jed. Jack stared at Jed, his expression turning into a sinister sneer.<br /> <br /> “Orak commands!” shouted Jack, and as he spoke his skin beginning to crawl, dark veins began to swell and Jack’s hands became claws. Jack leapt at Jed with bestial fury screaming “Orak commands!”<br /> <br /> Stunned, Jed was floored by the mutated Jack who started to try and strangle his former friend. Jed managed to grab Jack’s arms and pulled them away from his own throat, and then punched Jack in the face. This temporarily disoriented Jack. Jed scurried across the floor, and found a piece of rubble. Jack was by now back on his feet and rushing towards Jed, his clawed fingers dripping green ooze from the talons. Jed wielded the rock, and managed to strike Jack on the side of head, sending him to the ground with a thud.<br /> Jack’s mutant, lifeless body lay on the floor – the dark veins melting slowly back into his skin. Jed stood up painfully, and walked over and knelt down next to his friend.<br /> <br /> “Oh Jack, what is going on?” asked Jed quietly to himself.<br /> <br /> Kerump!! The door and frame next to him burst open and the giant scythe creature staggered into the hallway, sending some rubble down on top of Jed and Jack. Jed tried to pull Jack away from the creature, but his exertions had exhausted him. Jed staggered back, expecting another scythe attack at any moment. He could now see the creature in better light. It was not a pretty sight. It was about seven feet tall. Jed couldn’t tell clearly if it was naked or dressed in a skin tight black rubber suit, but either way it has ragged peeling bits all over. It legs were booted and its arms long and clawed. Its head was bald, green and black and mostly featureless except for a slit of a mouth and two piercing red eyes that glowed in the twilight. It was the stuff of nightmares but this was all too real. <br /> <br /> The monster swung its scythe down towards Jed and Jack’s position. It missed Jack and would have struck Jed had he not slithered out of the way with milliseconds to spare. The monster roared a ghastly screech and thumped its fist into the wall. Another avalanche of rubble and dust fell down on Jack and Jed. Jed had no choice but had to abandon his friend on the floor and get away. Crawling back along the hallway to the front, he found the door to the room where Aidan and Elizabeth were. It was locked! To his horror, a quick look around told him that he was trapped in this hall, the only way out was passed the creature, or maybe…..?<br /> Jed got to his feet, took a small run and charged at the wall. It cracked, but so did his shoulder. Trying to blot out the pain, Jed took another run up and then did a flying kick at the crack. The crumbling masonry heaved over and he pulled himself through the hole in the wall, tumbling in a heap at the feet of Aidan and Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, what happened?” asked Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Attacked…. Jack …. Dead…. Attacked….creature..” garbled Jed.<br /> <br /> “You’re bleeding.” said Elizabeth, who tried to wipe the blood off Jed’s face and arm.<br /> <br /> “No time, it’s out there. It’s got Jack.” said Jed more firmly.<br /> <br /> “What has? We were in here trying open the panel, then the door slammed shut and was locked. We then heard a lot of crashing and banging, then you emerge through the wall!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Quick, help me barricade the door and the hole,” said Jed, panting. “I was looking for Jack, and was attacked by this thing – I don’t know what it was. Some giant zombie or something crazy. Then Jack appeared, but he seemed to be changing into a zombie and attacked me too. They’re both out in the hallway. I can’t get my head around it.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t care what you say,” said Elizabeth, “this house is haunted and we’re gonna die.”<br /> <br /> “No, no.” said Jed quietly, “Something’s not right here. I am sure ghosts do not exist. This is something else, more sinister.”<br /> <br /> “More sinister than ghosts?” chided Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “No time for theories now,” interrupted Aidan, pointing to the hole in the wall. The creature’s clawed hand was reaching through – scrabbling for purchase. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth pulled what items of furniture they could to block the door and hole. Aidan threw a couple of bricks at the beast through the hole – enough to make it recoil so they could slam the cupboard across the gap.<br /> <br /> All their hearts thumped almost painfully. This was indeed a nightmare. They couldn’t abandon Jack but at present they were fighting for their own survival.<br /> <br /> “That should hold it for a bit.” exhaled Jed.<br /> <br /> “What happened to Jack?” asked Elizabeth, unsure that she wanted to hear the answer.<br /> <br /> “He was…” Jed paused, “Changing before my eyes. A bit like the Borg in Star Trek, wiry black veins over his face. I felt sick.” <br /> <br /> “Could it be some infection?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Whatever it was, we may soon find out.” said Jed, pointing to the door.<br /> <br /> Thump! Thump! Thump! The door shook with each strike from the monster beyond. The wood around the lock started to splinter. <br /> <br /> “Have any of you got a torch?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “No, why?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Wanted to inspect the walls. If there is one secret panel, there may be another? We can also try and open the windows.”<br /> <br /> “No use.” said Aidan. “Tried that. They are all blocked with metal bars, screwed tight. Too small to squeeze through.” <br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some matches.” said Elizabeth. “Took them off Jack on the dinghy.”<br /> <br /> She illuminated the gloom with the flickering flame, which shook even more in the draft and her unsteady hand.<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “Ah, here’s another panel.” said Jed, “Ah, that’s interesting.”<br /> <br /> “What’s interesting?” asked Aidan, “We haven’t time for one of your mysteries.”<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “The markings on this panel match those on the equipment I saw in the other room. Its an old runic symbol from ancient Norse legend; but is embossed with laser cut precision.”<br /> <br /> “So?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “So, whatever is happening here is technologically advanced.”<br /> <br /> CRASH! The door exploded off its hinges, sending wood and the stacked furniture flying into the room. The towering scythe creature stood leering through the doorway, its red eyes searching the room for living flesh.<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed and dropped the match. As luck would have it, the match landed on some rags on the wooden floor and immediately caught them alight. The flames licked and spluttered across the floor.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m sorry.” whimpered Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry, this might be our saviour.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> The flames arced around the room, not blocking the trio from the door but did make their escape through the door narrow and precarious. The scythe creature looked blankly at the roaring flames, and it slowly made its way forward towards them, still dragging its weapon behind it. It seemed fascinated by the dancing lights – unsure if the fire itself was another creature itself.<br /> <br /> “Now!” shouted Jed, and grabbing both his friends arms, pulled them towards the open doorway. The creature turned to look at them, but Jed had already barged his shoulder into the creatures mid-drift. Pain surged through Jed’s shoulder as it connected with the monster’s carapace, but it gave them enough time and space to dart through the gap and back into the hall. The front door was locked, but both Jed and Aidan’s repeated kicks managed to break the lock and they were free.<br /> <br /> They looked back as they stumbled into the garden. The scythe creature stood silhouetted in the front door against the flames, not attempting to follow them out. The fire had taken hold now and the soon the whole building was an inferno. <br /> <br /> Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth stumbled in the darkness – using the light of the flames to find their way fortunately to the old driveway. Looking back one last time, they saw the old house collapse in on itself with a sickening crunch.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Jack.” said Aidan quietly.<br /> <br /> They ran up the driveway, their sodden shoes slowing their progress, Elizabeth losing hers altogether in the mud.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth. “We have to go to the Police. Jack’s dead.”<br /> <br /> “And tell them what exactly? That we broke into a dangerous building? That we were attacked by a giant bug-eyed monster and our friend turned into a zombie before we burnt the place to the ground. That really sounds convincing!” snapped Aidan.<br /> <br /> “I only…” replied Elizabeth, hurt, before Jed interjected.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know what is behind all this. Maybe it was supernatural, maybe it wasn’t. Either way – we are still in trouble and I don’t think the Police can or will help us.” <br /> <br /> Eventually, they made it to the main road running back to Clayton. It was getting later in the evening, and the street lights of the town centre were a welcome focus for their journey. It was about two miles back into town, but the roads were quiet. Surely someone in the village must have seen the flames coming from the Wave House? Arriving in the town, Elizabeth marched straight to the police station. <br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “We must tell them what happened!” she shouted.<br /> <br /> “It won’t help Jack. We could be in all sorts of trouble if we confess to tonight’s happenings. Jack had no family. We can keep it to ourselves.” said Jed calmly, clearly wanting to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the authorities.<br /> <br /> “How can you be so cold?” said Elizabeth and he hurried on and into the Police Station. The grizzled sergeant looked up from the desk. There was a crackle of noise from the police radio – reports of an incident near Berry Manor.<br /> <br /> “Can I help you?” asked the policeman, in a dismissive tone.<br /> <br /> “We were at the Wave House. Caught fire. Attacked by someone. Our friend might be dead. You must help us” blurted Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Whoah! Did you say you were at Berry Manor?” interrupted the policeman, reaching under the desk with his right hand.<br /> <br /> “Yes, it caught fire and our friend was trapped.” <br /> <br /> “I see..” said the police sergeant menacingly. At that moment, a side door opened and two unformed officers came into the lobby. The grabbed Elizabeth by the arms.<br /> <br /> “I am arresting you on suspicion of arson and being under the influence of a banned substance.”<br /> <br /> “Hey wait!” shouted Aidan from the doorway, but he too was over powered by more constables. Jed, standing outside on the steps, couldn’t see what was happening but heard raised voices. From out of the gloom came a tall thin man with a dishevelled appearance, wrapped in a long black leather coat.<br /> <br /> “Got the time friend?” asked the stranger.<br /> <br /> “Urm, about eleven thirty.” replied Jed, looking at his watch.<br /> <br /> “Thank you.” replied the stranger. Jed turned back to look at the police station door, but received a painful strike to the back of the head, sending him to the floor.<br /> <br /> <br /> Jed awoke in a cell. Aidan was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to him.<br /> <br /> “Wondered when you would wake up” he said.<br /> <br /> “How long was I out for?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “Not long, ten minutes or so. Elizabeth’s next door I think. We are in deep trouble. I was dreading something like this but she wouldn’t listen” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Dread not. How many policemen are there?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “About four I think. We must find a way out of here.” said Aidan, ponderously.<br /> <br /> “Only four, that’s ok. We must get out of here. Police don’t cosh people over the head like that, even in New Britain. There is something deeply amiss here. Aidan, here’s what I need you to do.” Jed whispered, “Collapse on the floor as if you are having a fit. Make it convincing. I’ll do the rest.”<br /> <br /> Aidan put all his amateur dramatic experience, including frothing at the mouth, to good use whilst Jed pummelled on the cell door.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Hey! Help! My friend’s dying. He’s having a seizure. Someone please help!” shouted Jed. After a small pause, the viewing hatch opened. A weasely looking face peered through.<br /> <br /> “What?!” asked the Policeman.<br /> <br /> “It’s my friend. He’s had some sort of a fit. He’s got problems with his lungs and heart.” pleaded Jed.<br /> <br /> “Hah, nice try.” replied the policeman “Any idiot can roll around on the floor.”<br /> <br /> Just then Aidan coughed and spluttered. The policeman casually looked over, planning some sarcastic comment when suddenly a stream of blood was ejected from Aidan’s frothing mouth.<br /> <br /> “Oh Geez.” said the policeman, and he quickly unlocked the door. Jed stepped back, and allowed the officer. He bent down over Aidan. Jed saw his opportunity, and with a clean strike to the back of the neck – knocked the officer out cold. Aidan opened his eyes, grinned and jumped up. <br /> <br /> “Wow, that was impressive.” said Jed, “How did you manage that blood?”<br /> <br /> “Bit a chunk out of my lip as I lay down. It hurt but was worth it for the effect.” replied Aidan, rubbing the blood and saliva from his sore mouth.<br /> <br /> “Quick, got the keys, lets get Elizabeth.” said Jed as he dragged the policeman further into the cell.<br /> <br /> Outside, there were no other policeman, and Jed locked the cell and then found the key for Elizabeth’s room.<br /> <br /> “Quick, no time to explain, gotta go!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> The three of them quietly paced down the cell corridor, opening the end door. The other policemen were in the office, the sergeant talking excitedly on the phone. Jed couldn’t hear the detail of the conversation, but was pretty sure it was about the incident at the Wave House.<br /> <br /> The sergeant replaced the receiver and addressed the other two, who nodded and left the building. That left only one to overcome. Jed whispered “Let’s wait until the other two have driven off before we sort the old guy out.”<br /> <br /> After a few minutes, Jed coughed loudly down the corridor. The sergeant turned around and called “Williams, is that you?” No reply.<br /> <br /> The sergeant made his way toward the door to the corridor. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth skulked back into the corners behind the door. <br /> <br /> “Hallo? Williams?” said the sergeant again, pushing the door fully open. All the cell doors were shut bar one. Surely Williams was in there, attending to the girl.<br /> <br /> “Hope he keeps his hands off.” smirked the sergeant. Perhaps he ought to take a look.<br /> <br /> THWACK!<br /> <br /> Jed delivered another one of his finely-honed hand chops to the old sergeant, sending him to the floor. They did not waste time locking him up. Jed fumbled about looking for the file with their names on it and personal effects. Fortunately it was lying on the sergeant’s desk.<br /> <br /> “That’s coming with me!” said Jed. <br /> <br /> Bundling out of the police station, the three friends ran back to their holiday cottage. <br /> <br /> “Grab our stuff!” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “We haven’t time for that.” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes, we must. Can’t leave anything to identify us.”<br /> <br /> “What about the booking reference?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “It was in Jack’s name. Hopefully the trail will end with him.” said Jed coolly.<br /> <br /> They had enough time to clear their tracks and bundle into the car. Aidan started the engine, and quietly they trundled out of the town, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. There were two ways out of Clayton, one straight through the town centre past the Police Station and the other along the coast near the Wave House. Neither held much appeal but at least the Wave House route had not street lights for them to be illuminated by. Jed desperately wanted to floor the accelerator and get away, but he knew that it would be more noticeable to those tracking them.<br /> <br /> There was a strange humming sound overhead. All three of them tried to see up out of the windows. It was a helicopter, with a searchlight – but it wasn’t apparently looking for them. It overtook them and headed towards the Wave House site. Suddenly, another flying vehicle followed close behind the helicopter – but this was quite different. It looked like an upturned bath, with grey markings. A bit like a typical Hollywood UFO, but it glided behind the helicopter – matching its speed. The UFO’s searchlight was also aiming towards the glowing embers of the Wave House.<br /> <br /> Distracted, Aidan did not notice that he had missed the last turning onto the main road, and had come to a dead end near a barn on the edge of the Wave House grounds. To their horror, the three friends saw a whole group of people clad in white protection suits. They were spraying the field and animal corpses! Aidan slammed the car into reverse.<br /> <br /> “Quickly!” shouted Jed.<br /> <br /> BLAM! BLAM!<br /> <br /> Bullets started flying around the car. Sparks flew off the bodywork. Aidan spun the car around, smashing his rear lights on a gatepost, before speeding off into the darkness of the night....</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=The_Evil_Gnome&diff=9329 2008-11-27T21:47:40Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend.<br /> <br /> It was late evening, and John Harrow was walking back home from his girlfriend’s house. It had been a good night, and after a romantic meal she had agreed to his idea of buying a house together. She had offered him a lift home, but John had declined – not wanting her to be out this late, even if driving.<br /> <br /> His journey home took him across the edge of the woods at the foot of Clayton Hill. As dark and creepy as this route was, it far more preferable than having to take the main road past the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, and also cut nearly half-a-mile off the journey. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and John walked confidently albeit briskly. <br /> Some superstitious locals would have questioned his choice of route, but John was not bothered by silly ancient legends. The tale of the Evil Gnome of Clayton Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane, <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally see him, <br /> you will wish you stayed at home… <br /> On this long and lonely lane, <br /> you will find the Evil Gnome, <br /> and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> John remembered the stories from when he was a child. His Grandfather would come up stairs to tell him a ghost story before bedtime, much to John’s mother’s disapproval, but the Grandfather always maintained he spoke the truth. The legend ran that the Evil Gnome was the ghost of a deformed hermit who lived on the Hill and had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his execution, the hermit’s ghost was alleged to have started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Adults caught on the Hill after dark could be driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken, or so the legend told. The sceptical believed that these latter victims were simply drunks who stumbled over the numerous rocky outcrops and fell to their deaths at night. <br /> <br /> John’s Grandfather elaborated the tale, he said that the Evil Gnome would come and get John if he didn’t behave. The Evil Gnome lived in the cracks in the walls, the cracks in the pavement. You could lock your doors and windows, it would do no good – he would find a way in. There was no hiding from the Evil Gnome. <br /> <br /> There was always the real event of little Jimmy Taylor, who ran away from home twenty years ago. His friend Mike said he had seen him with a small thin man on the Hill, but this was put down to an overactive imagination. Jimmy was never found. John of course didn’t believe the ghostly stories, but thought it would make a good film one day. <br /> <br /> John turned off the road, and vaulted over the stile that led up to then slopes. The concrete and asphalt of the footway very soon gave way to gravel, mud and twigs once it entered the trees. John had walked this path many times, but this was the first time at night alone. John was fit, regularly attending the gym – and the gentle slope did not deter him from maintaining a brisk pace. It was only about ten minutes and John had reached the highest point of the path. <br /> <br /> “Good, down hill now” he thought to himself. The path now entered the more thickly wooded leeward side of the hill, and the friendly scattered trees that had been his companions so far were now replaced by twisted, low-branched, crowded broadleaves – closing in over the path with a slight air of menace, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. <br /> <br /> John had not been long in the dark woods when there was a cracking sound from the path behind him. At first John didn’t even notice it, but after a few more foot falls – he became aware of its presence. Surely, just twigs falling from the trees, but there was no wind that night.<br /> <br /> “Stupid foxes” muttered John to himself.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I am talking to myself now” thought John. He started whistling. The cracking sound got louder. <br /> <br /> John quickened his pace, but the cracking sound kept up. John glanced nervously over his shoulder. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Was that a dark shape hovering about twenty feet behind him?<br /> <br /> “John, stop it!” he audibly told himself, trying to shake off his paranoia. Just then an icy breath blew on his neck causing John to shiver. <br /> <br /> “Hey!” John spun around again. No one was there, but it was starting to get misty. John felt a small kernel of panic growing in his chest. He scoffed at ghosts and goblins, but something was controlling his imagination now. The more he looked in the fractured moonlight, the more he convinced himself that shapes were moving in the mist behind him. <br /> <br /> “Stupid, stupid” said John, loud enough to startle a near-by squirrel. “I am not in some horror B-movie.” <br /> <br /> John walked briskly along the path. The chill on his neck became more intense. He tried to ignore the feelings his imagination was playing on him, and tried to think of anything other than his Grandfather’s eerie tales. <br /> <br /> “If I saw an evil gnome, I’d break his bloody fishing rod” laughed John nervously to himself.<br /> <br /> The mist was entwining itself around his legs, like spectral hands, holding him back. There was a loud crunch on the path behind him. John took one last look behind. He was sure there was definitely something on the path behind him, the mist was being disturbed by something or someone. <br /> <br /> John stood momentarily rooted to the ground, but when nothing appeared out of the misty darkness, he regained his self-control and began to run along the path, home. <br /> The cracks became thumps, the mist was overtaking him. John was running faster and faster. His heart was pounding. He dared not look behind him. The dread sight of what could be following him was too much. John’s lungs screamed for some respite, but his mind drove him on. Home, he must get home, where there was light and safety. Home!<br /> <br /> John stumbled out of the woods and onto the road. No streetlights warmed this part of town, but John could see by the moon and the way home was familiar to him. He took one fleeting glimpse back at the woods but saw nothing following him. He paused momentarily to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing but thankful he was out of the woods. After gathering his thoughts for a second, John began again on his journey. The lights of the town centre were nearing and the first houses was just in front on his left. <br /> <br /> “Nearly there..” thought John to himself, “Nearly there..”<br /> <br /> An icy chill then ran over John’s back and neck, and he instinctively looked behind before he could stop himself, but there was nothing to be seen.<br /> <br /> He eventually made it to his street and pounded up the path to his front door. He felt sure that once he was inside, he would be safe. Monsters only lived in dark woods and not in cosy houses.<br /> <br /> John checked all the doors and windows. Bolted and secure. He was safe. Suddenly feeling a little silly, he sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. <br /> <br /> “Whoa, John my boy. You are getting silly. There are no such things as ghosts. You fool. Still that was a good bit of exercise” he thought.<br /> <br /> John thought back to his Grandfather’s stories about how the Evil Gnome sought out naughty or lost children, even in their own homes.<br /> <br /> “I’m twenty nine, not a child.”<br /> <br /> After making himself a drink and checking the football results on the TV, John felt that he must get some sleep before he dozed off on the sofa. Going slowly upstairs, John left the hall light on, just for reassurance. In his bedroom, all was dark and calm. John sighed, undressed and slumped on the bed. The chill on his back still seemed to be there however, even though the house was warm and the bed comforting. John looked across at the half-open bedroom door, and felt an inner vulnerability that he never normally felt. He got up, shut door and locked it. He then went over to the windows, and locked them too. Without consciously knowing why, he took the key out of the lock, tore up some paper tissues and stuffed them into the keyhole. He then put the key on his bedside table. Once again flopping down on his bed, John at last felt safe, alone and relaxed. Nothing would find him here, neither real nor imagined bogeymen. John leaned across flick off his bedside lamp.<br /> <br /> Suddenly out of the darkness came a disembodied voice. It said menacingly “Good, now we are both shut in for the night......””<br /> <br /> ----<br /> <br /> “Booo!” cried Jack, jumping up from his seat in the boat.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jack, stop pissing about!” shouted Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Lighten up dude!” replied Jack, “You don’t really believe in ghosts do you? I was only having a bit of fun!”<br /> <br /> “Well, it wasn’t very funny” added Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Children, children” said Jed, as he put down his book he had been reading to the others.<br /> <br /> Jack sat back down in the little dinghy, his rocking motion antics still being felt in the stomachs of his friends. The small dinghy bobbed and swayed in the swirling wind. What had started as a fun fishing trip was losing its novelty fast. The fine weather had broken, no fish had been caught and tempers were now fraying. <br /> <br /> They had all, reluctantly, followed Jack’s suggestion of a bit of sea fishing, and now he was the first to become bored. Nevertheless, it was the last day of their holiday and were all determined to have a good time. <br /> <br /> Clayton-on-Sea was not your typical holiday destination. A medium sized seaside town, it had definitely seen better days. It perfectly encapsulated the ‘end of the railway line’ bleakness, being stranded on the end of long peninsula with very few hills to give any protection from the wind and rain blowing up the English Channel. The one geographical feature of note was Clayton Hill – mentioned in the ghost story and truly known locally and infamously as Claw Hill. It was a large rock monolith left behind from years of coastal erosion. Its rutted and pitted escarpments gave it the appearance of a large clawed beast, sitting ready to pounce over the town at its base. At least it has escaped the widespread rioting and civil unrest affecting most of New Britain at that time.<br /> <br /> The four friends had met at college and had thought that a week away to mark the end of their last summer before going off to University would be good idea. Aidan Beaufort and Elizabeth Quinn had been dating for over a year now and had spent the majority of the holiday in their room, studious Jed Holden was a year older and wanted some quiet time to read away from the pressures of home and to prepare for his degree but had been largely prevented from doing this by the fourth member of the group, the heavy partying Jack Storm. Jack idea of a good time was trying to consume a brewery’s worth of alcohol in one night, trying to sleep with as many ‘chicks’ (as he called them) as possible before waking up in some random location before doing it all over again the next night. Orphaned as a baby and spending most of his life in abusive institutional care had obviously affected him. He often pestered Jed to join him in his nightclub adventures, which usually ended with Jed carrying the unconscious Jack back at 4am.<br /> Jack kicked the floor of the boat in boredom, but then produced a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket.<br /> <br /> “Alright then, who’s for a game of strip poker?” he said almost menacingly, looking straight at Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Get lost you creep,” sniped Elizabeth. <br /> <br /> “Aww, you’re no fun” sulked Jack as he put down the cards, and pulled out a cigarette and matches from his pocket.<br /> <br /> “Oh, don’t smoke – it stinks” moaned Elizabeth, and she snatched the matches from Jack’s hand.<br /> <br /> “Cow!” cursed Jack, and sat back sulking. <br /> <br /> “Hey, you take that back,” interrupted Aidan, protecting his girlfriend.<br /> <br /> “I have a better idea. A magic trick” said Jed, putting down his book and taking pack from between Jack’s feet. Jed shuffled the pack, and then started to flick through the corners of them, holding the cards so only the others could see them. “Say stop and look at the card revealed” said Jed.<br /> <br /> Jack said “Stop!” almost immediately, hoping to catch Jed out. <br /> <br /> Jed said “Remember the card but don’t tell me.” He then reshuffled the pack and began to turn each one over dropping them face-up on the floor of the boat one by one. He had thrown all the cards in his hand onto floor and then said “Did you see your card drop?”<br /> <br /> “No.” said Elizabeth, puzzled.<br /> <br /> “Look in your jacket pocket.” he said to Jack, and there was the chosen card – the jack of clubs.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Hell Dread! You jammy Arse. Ever since you got into all that magic and hypnotism at the ruddy joke shop in town, you’ve been showing off too much.” said Jack. <br /> <br /> “My name’s Jed, not Dread, and well, it seemed appropriate for you – Sir JACK of the NightCLUBS.”<br /> <br /> “Again, again.” said Elizabeth, but a rumble of thunder cut the frivolity in an instant. <br /> <br /> “Think we’d better get back.” said Jed, looking concerned at the growing black cloud in the mid-distance. The four of them put the fishing equipment away and Aidan pulled the cord for the motor, but a smokey splutter was all his reward.<br /> <br /> “Try again.” said Elizabeth nervously, but the motor still did not respond.<br /> <br /> “The sails.” ordered Jed, and with some difficulty they raised the flimsy canvas. None of them were experienced sailors and it soon dawned on them that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for them to have any hope of making back to Clayton Marina, the technique of tacking being beyond even cerebral Jed. <br /> <br /> “It’s no use, we must get shore and find some cover.” said Jed, as lighting flashed, another thunderclap sounded and now hail began to fall. The wind was blowing them quite fast, towards the dunes and the ruined manor on the foreshore.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps we can hide out in that old house?” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “You can, I’d rather take my chance with the storm.” replied Elizabeth, “It looks unsafe.”<br /> <br /> “You might be right.” said Jed. “That place looks certainly as though it has seen better days. Locally it’s called the Wave House”.<br /> <br /> Jed had been reading Overlooked Britain by local author Professor Hercules Leviathan Scudder – full of myths, legends and factual history about their island home. He explained that once, Berry Manor had been an impressive Victorian manor – perched on shingle banks overlooking Clayton Bay. To its rear were formal gardens that backed onto the woods at one end of Clayton or ‘Claw’ Hill, intersected by a narrow country lane leading back to Clayton town centre, but since the World War, Berry Manor was not much more than a crumbling, eerie and deserted ruin. <br /> <br /> Its last owner, Gethin Kerr, was a despised local figure who had been suspected of shooting his older brother in the back to inherit the house and land. Although arrested and question, Kerr’s guilt could never be proven at the time and after release, Kerr lived alone in the house, shunned by the people of Clayton. One night, a huge storm blew in from the sea – breaking through the dune defences and swamping Berry Manor and its grounds. Gethin Kerr was never seen again and it was widely believed that he had received divine justice for his crime.<br /> The surrounding land became salt marsh regularly flooded at high tide. No heirs could be found for Kerr and the house passed to the local council, who left it to collapse into the sea. High metal fencing was erected on the landward side to keep people out of the dangerous structure and only the brave or foolhardy could approach the water-lapped building from the sea, hence its new nickname – the Wave House. Strange lights could be seen there at night, and eerie sounds could be heard after dark. These were dismissed as marsh gas and the wind; but the legends persisted that the site was haunted.<br /> <br /> The dinghy beached itself on the shore and the friends nervously clambered out. The quartet pulled the boat as far up the beach as possible and looked about. The tide was also sweeping in and had already cut off any hope of walking along the beach back to Clayton. They had no option but trudge inland over the bog and past the Wave House. They squelched their way up the bramble bank and got a better look at the house. It stood in large, overgrown gardens, with muddy channels criss-crossing what had once been manicured lawns. The windows were mostly smashed or boarded up, but all the ground floor ones had metal grills fixed over them to stop vandals entering. The ragged remains of heavy weather-worn curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning to the passers-by of the menace within. <br /> <br /> “Man, that place looks like the perfect haunted house. Wooooo!” joked Jack, running a fingery hand over Elizabeth’s shoulder, making her jump.<br /> <br /> The four of them scrambled down and picked their way through the boggy grounds looking for the drive that would lead them back to the main road. It was difficult to find their footings in the growing gloom and the rain made the ground even more slippery.<br /> <br /> “Curse this, I’m going to hide out of the rain.” said Jack, and he veered over to the ruined house. <br /> <br /> “Come back.” said Jed, but Jack was already at the door. The others followed, reluctantly, as the rain pelted even harder.<br /> <br /> Out of sight of the friends, in the dark corner of the grounds, a lumbering two-legged shape stalked their movements, its long scythe-like weapon trailing in the mud behind its uneven steps. <br /> <br /> Upon entering the hall of the Wave House, all four were surprised to find that it was much less ruined than the decrepit outside would have suggested. It put Jed in mind of a theme park ghost train ride that was all haunted old ruin on the outside, but concrete and steel building inside. The hall was very dark, lit only by the twilight from the open door and smashed windows, but it was smooth floored with wood panelling on the walls, but lacking furniture, save a few book cases and wardrobes.<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s have a look around.” said Jack and he darted off through another door into one of the reception rooms. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth followed cagily, only for Jack to jump out from behind the door with a loud “Boo!”<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed.<br /> <br /> “You idiot!” said Aidan and he sprung at Jack and gave him a shove that made Jack stumble backwards. He nearly regained his footing before his left foot caught itself on a loose brick on the floor and he crashed back against one of the wooden panels on the wall. It swung back effortlessly and Jack fell into the void, with the panel clicking shut behind him!<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” screamed Aidan, and he ran over and pummelled on the panel, trying to get it to open.<br /> <br /> “Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” shouted Jed. The only sound was the wind outside. The three remaining looked at each other in horror.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Jack picked himself up off the floor. He guessed that he must have fallen at least fifteen feet down a smooth shoot, but apart from a few bruises – felt fine.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Aidan!” shouted Jack, but there was no hollowness to the echo and the room was pitch black. The room felt solid like a prison cell. Picking his way across the floor, Jack tripped and stumbled over objects on the floor. He held out his arms in front of him, reaching for a wall or a door. Something then knocked him in the face. It was something dangling from the roof, like a boxer’s punch bag. Jack felt uneasy. He then remembered that his mobile phone had a small LED torch built in. He reached into his pocket and was relieved that the torch still worked. He joy was short lived. The beam shone on the dangling object. It was a strange greenish-brown colour, and it dawned on Jack that it was flesh. He raised the beam up the object, and nearly vomited when he saw it had the outline of a human torso, its head held in place by a gibbet-like cage at its shoulders. The beam also illuminated some more of these corpses, hanging in rows behind this first one. As if on cue from the torch light, their putrid eyes opened and stared at Jack! <br /> <br /> “Oh my god, oh my god!” Jack cried as he staggered back in terror. Something standing behind him in the dark stopped his progress, and Jack spun round to look up. Jack barely had time to shine his torch on the creature’s armoured chest before the phone torch was knocked from his hand. The giant figure then grabbed Jack, holding him tight. Jack was turned back to look into the darkness. Two small red pinpricks of light could be seen in the darkness, low down. Out of the gloom appeared a frightful dwarf, with a long pointed finger similar to a sharp syringe. The dwarf leered at Jack, who desperately tried to break free. Suddenly the dwarf leapt into the air, landed on Jack’s chest and gabbed the syringe-like finger into Jack’s neck. The large creature released Jack as the dwarf jumped back to floor.<br /> Jack screamed in agony as dark pulsating veins erupted over his exposed skin, tracing a web towards his terrified bloodshot eyes and then darkness overtook him.<br /> <br /> Meanwhile, Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth were still trying to force open the panel, but it remained rock solid and shut. They continued to bang and shout, but no response from Jack. <br /> <br /> “I bet that creep is still playing tricks on us.” said Aidan, anger trying to cover his guilty conscience. <br /> <br /> “Come on, we must search for him. Let’s split up.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “Can I stay with Aidan”. said Elizabeth, scared.<br /> <br /> “Very well, you try opening the panel, I’ll check to see of there is a door to the cellar.” And with that Jed left.<br /> <br /> Jed looked down the hall. There seemed to be no obvious door under the staircase, and he made his way into the room which he thought might be the kitchen. There was indeed equipment in there, but not what he was expecting. Metal tanks and desks filled the room, all marked with a strange geometric symbol – a sort of cross with a straight vertical bar but a barbed horizontal one. Jed was well-read and he recognised it as an ancient runic symbol called the Wolf Hook that was used to ward off supernatural beasts, but what it was doing here he could not fathom.<br /> <br /> “Argh!” cried Jed as out of the darkness a huge blade sliced down next to him, grazing his forearm. He turned around and saw a seven foot creature, vaguely humanoid with glowing red eyes wielding a huge reaper scythe. It raised the weapon again but Jed, gritting his teeth, managed to dodge the second strike, the scythe embedding itself in the wooden floorboard<br /> Jed was temporarily disorientated by the attack, but at least the creature was relatively slow in its movements. Jed tried to clear his mind and focus, as he had trained himself to do. He saw that a large wooden cabinet rested against the main wall of the room. As the creature began to try and extricate the scythe from the floor, Jed gingerly moved over to the side of the cabinet and pulled with all his strength. The cabinet was top-heavy - it tilted and then toppled over, right on top of the creature.<br /> Jed was breathing hard, and looked down at his arm. It was only a small gash but the cut looked dirty. He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the wound clean as best he could and made for the door. <br /> <br /> Crack! Jed spun around to see the fist of the creature smash through the back of the cabinet, followed by its arm and another fist – splintering the wood as it emerged. Just at this point, Jack appeared at the door.<br /> <br /> “Dread, this way!” he shouted, and Jed clambered over the broken piled of equipment to make his way out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him.<br /> <br /> “What happened Dread?” said Jack.<br /> <br /> “Dunno. Someone attacked me. Huge man, looked freaky. Where have you been?” spluttered Jed.<br /> <br /> “No where. Sounds weird Dread” said Jack. Jed looked at his friend, unsure of his feelings.<br /> <br /> “Jack, can’t you say anything but Dread?”<br /> <br /> The evening light shone down the hall. It had an almost spectral quality. Jack looked blankly at Jed, not answering. At that point there was a break in the clouds. Moonlight shone straight down the hall, silhouetting Jack. Jed was dismayed to see strange luminous purple and green veins glowing under Jack’s skin.<br /> <br /> “Jack, what’s wrong?” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “I have a gift, I have a gift, I have a gift…” repeated Jack, as if in a trance.<br /> <br /> “Jack!” shouted Jed. Jack stared at Jed, his expression turning into a sinister sneer.<br /> <br /> “Orak commands!” shouted Jack, and as he spoke his skin beginning to crawl, dark veins began to swell and Jack’s hands became claws. Jack leapt at Jed with bestial fury screaming “Orak commands!”<br /> <br /> Stunned, Jed was floored by the mutated Jack who started to try and strangle his former friend. Jed managed to grab Jack’s arms and pulled them away from his own throat, and then punched Jack in the face. This temporarily disoriented Jack. Jed scurried across the floor, and found a piece of rubble. Jack was by now back on his feet and rushing towards Jed, his clawed fingers dripping green ooze from the talons. Jed wielded the rock, and managed to strike Jack on the side of head, sending him to the ground with a thud.<br /> Jack’s mutant, lifeless body lay on the floor – the dark veins melting slowly back into his skin. Jed stood up painfully, and walked over and knelt down next to his friend.<br /> <br /> “Oh Jack, what is going on?” asked Jed quietly to himself.<br /> <br /> Kerump!! The door and frame next to him burst open and the giant scythe creature staggered into the hallway, sending some rubble down on top of Jed and Jack. Jed tried to pull Jack away from the creature, but his exertions had exhausted him. Jed staggered back, expecting another scythe attack at any moment. He could now see the creature in better light. It was not a pretty sight. It was about seven feet tall. Jed couldn’t tell clearly if it was naked or dressed in a skin tight black rubber suit, but either way it has ragged peeling bits all over. It legs were booted and its arms long and clawed. Its head was bald, green and black and mostly featureless except for a slit of a mouth and two piercing red eyes that glowed in the twilight. It was the stuff of nightmares but this was all too real. <br /> <br /> The monster swung its scythe down towards Jed and Jack’s position. It missed Jack and would have struck Jed had he not slithered out of the way with milliseconds to spare. The monster roared a ghastly screech and thumped its fist into the wall. Another avalanche of rubble and dust fell down on Jack and Jed. Jed had no choice but had to abandon his friend on the floor and get away. Crawling back along the hallway to the front, he found the door to the room where Aidan and Elizabeth were. It was locked! To his horror, a quick look around told him that he was trapped in this hall, the only way out was passed the creature, or maybe…..?<br /> Jed got to his feet, took a small run and charged at the wall. It cracked, but so did his shoulder. Trying to blot out the pain, Jed took another run up and then did a flying kick at the crack. The crumbling masonry heaved over and he pulled himself through the hole in the wall, tumbling in a heap at the feet of Aidan and Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, what happened?” asked Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Attacked…. Jack …. Dead…. Attacked….creature..” garbled Jed.<br /> <br /> “You’re bleeding.” said Elizabeth, who tried to wipe the blood off Jed’s face and arm.<br /> <br /> “No time, it’s out there. It’s got Jack.” said Jed more firmly.<br /> <br /> “What has? We were in here trying open the panel, then the door slammed shut and was locked. We then heard a lot of crashing and banging, then you emerge through the wall!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Quick, help me barricade the door and the hole,” said Jed, panting. “I was looking for Jack, and was attacked by this thing – I don’t know what it was. Some giant zombie or something crazy. Then Jack appeared, but he seemed to be changing into a zombie and attacked me too. They’re both out in the hallway. I can’t get my head around it.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t care what you say,” said Elizabeth, “this house is haunted and we’re gonna die.”<br /> <br /> “No, no.” said Jed quietly, “Something’s not right here. I am sure ghosts do not exist. This is something else, more sinister.”<br /> <br /> “More sinister than ghosts?” chided Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “No time for theories now,” interrupted Aidan, pointing to the hole in the wall. The creature’s clawed hand was reaching through – scrabbling for purchase. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth pulled what items of furniture they could to block the door and hole. Aidan threw a couple of bricks at the beast through the hole – enough to make it recoil so they could slam the cupboard across the gap.<br /> <br /> All their hearts thumped almost painfully. This was indeed a nightmare. They couldn’t abandon Jack but at present they were fighting for their own survival.<br /> <br /> “That should hold it for a bit.” exhaled Jed.<br /> <br /> “What happened to Jack?” asked Elizabeth, unsure that she wanted to hear the answer.<br /> <br /> “He was…” Jed paused, “Changing before my eyes. A bit like the Borg in Star Trek, wiry black veins over his face. I felt sick.” <br /> <br /> “Could it be some infection?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Whatever it was, we may soon find out.” said Jed, pointing to the door.<br /> <br /> Thump! Thump! Thump! The door shook with each strike from the monster beyond. The wood around the lock started to splinter. <br /> <br /> “Have any of you got a torch?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “No, why?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Wanted to inspect the walls. If there is one secret panel, there may be another? We can also try and open the windows.”<br /> <br /> “No use.” said Aidan. “Tried that. They are all blocked with metal bars, screwed tight. Too small to squeeze through.” <br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some matches.” said Elizabeth. “Took them off Jack on the dinghy.”<br /> <br /> She illuminated the gloom with the flickering flame, which shook even more in the draft and her unsteady hand.<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “Ah, here’s another panel.” said Jed, “Ah, that’s interesting.”<br /> <br /> “What’s interesting?” asked Aidan, “We haven’t time for one of your mysteries.”<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “The markings on this panel match those on the equipment I saw in the other room. Its an old runic symbol from ancient Norse legend; but is embossed with laser cut precision.”<br /> <br /> “So?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “So, whatever is happening here is technologically advanced.”<br /> <br /> CRASH! The door exploded off its hinges, sending wood and the stacked furniture flying into the room. The towering scythe creature stood leering through the doorway, its red eyes searching the room for living flesh.<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed and dropped the match. As luck would have it, the match landed on some rags on the wooden floor and immediately caught them alight. The flames licked and spluttered across the floor.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m sorry.” whimpered Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry, this might be our saviour.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> The flames arced around the room, not blocking the trio from the door but did make their escape through the door narrow and precarious. The scythe creature looked blankly at the roaring flames, and it slowly made its way forward towards them, still dragging its weapon behind it. It seemed fascinated by the dancing lights – unsure if the fire itself was another creature itself.<br /> <br /> “Now!” shouted Jed, and grabbing both his friends arms, pulled them towards the open doorway. The creature turned to look at them, but Jed had already barged his shoulder into the creatures mid-drift. Pain surged through Jed’s shoulder as it connected with the monster’s carapace, but it gave them enough time and space to dart through the gap and back into the hall. The front door was locked, but both Jed and Aidan’s repeated kicks managed to break the lock and they were free.<br /> <br /> They looked back as they stumbled into the garden. The scythe creature stood silhouetted in the front door against the flames, not attempting to follow them out. The fire had taken hold now and the soon the whole building was an inferno. <br /> <br /> Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth stumbled in the darkness – using the light of the flames to find their way fortunately to the old driveway. Looking back one last time, they saw the old house collapse in on itself with a sickening crunch.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Jack.” said Aidan quietly.<br /> <br /> They ran up the driveway, their sodden shoes slowing their progress, Elizabeth losing hers altogether in the mud.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth. “We have to go to the Police. Jack’s dead.”<br /> <br /> “And tell them what exactly? That we broke into a dangerous building? That we were attacked by a giant bug-eyed monster and our friend turned into a zombie before we burnt the place to the ground. That really sounds convincing!” snapped Aidan.<br /> <br /> “I only…” replied Elizabeth, hurt, before Jed interjected.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know what is behind all this. Maybe it was supernatural, maybe it wasn’t. Either way – we are still in trouble and I don’t think the Police can or will help us.” <br /> <br /> Eventually, they made it to the main road running back to Clayton. It was getting later in the evening, and the street lights of the town centre were a welcome focus for their journey. It was about two miles back into town, but the roads were quiet. Surely someone in the village must have seen the flames coming from the Wave House? Arriving in the town, Elizabeth marched straight to the police station. <br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “We must tell them what happened!” she shouted.<br /> <br /> “It won’t help Jack. We could be in all sorts of trouble if we confess to tonight’s happenings. Jack had no family. We can keep it to ourselves.” said Jed calmly, clearly wanting to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the authorities.<br /> <br /> “How can you be so cold?” said Elizabeth and he hurried on and into the Police Station. The grizzled sergeant looked up from the desk. There was a crackle of noise from the police radio – reports of an incident near Berry Manor.<br /> <br /> “Can I help you?” asked the policeman, in a dismissive tone.<br /> <br /> “We were at the Wave House. Caught fire. Attacked by someone. Our friend might be dead. You must help us” blurted Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Whoah! Did you say you were at Berry Manor?” interrupted the policeman, reaching under the desk with his right hand.<br /> <br /> “Yes, it caught fire and our friend was trapped.” <br /> <br /> “I see..” said the police sergeant menacingly. At that moment, a side door opened and two unformed officers came into the lobby. The grabbed Elizabeth by the arms.<br /> <br /> “I am arresting you on suspicion of arson and being under the influence of a banned substance.”<br /> <br /> “Hey wait!” shouted Aidan from the doorway, but he too was over powered by more constables. Jed, standing outside on the steps, couldn’t see what was happening but heard raised voices. From out of the gloom came a tall thin man with a dishevelled appearance, wrapped in a long black leather coat.<br /> <br /> “Got the time friend?” asked the stranger.<br /> <br /> “Urm, about eleven thirty.” replied Jed, looking at his watch.<br /> <br /> “Thank you.” replied the stranger. Jed turned back to look at the police station door, but received a painful strike to the back of the head, sending him to the floor.<br /> <br /> <br /> Jed awoke in a cell. Aidan was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to him.<br /> <br /> “Wondered when you would wake up” he said.<br /> <br /> “How long was I out for?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “Not long, ten minutes or so. Elizabeth’s next door I think. We are in deep trouble. I was dreading something like this but she wouldn’t listen” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Dread not. How many policemen are there?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “About four I think. We must find a way out of here.” said Aidan, ponderously.<br /> <br /> “Only four, that’s ok. We must get out of here. Police don’t cosh people over the head like that, even in New Britain. There is something deeply amiss here. Aidan, here’s what I need you to do.” Jed whispered, “Collapse on the floor as if you are having a fit. Make it convincing. I’ll do the rest.”<br /> <br /> Aidan put all his amateur dramatic experience, including frothing at the mouth, to good use whilst Jed pummelled on the cell door.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Hey! Help! My friend’s dying. He’s having a seizure. Someone please help!” shouted Jed. After a small pause, the viewing hatch opened. A weasely looking face peered through.<br /> <br /> “What?!” asked the Policeman.<br /> <br /> “It’s my friend. He’s had some sort of a fit. He’s got problems with his lungs and heart.” pleaded Jed.<br /> <br /> “Hah, nice try.” replied the policeman “Any idiot can roll around on the floor.”<br /> <br /> Just then Aidan coughed and spluttered. The policeman casually looked over, planning some sarcastic comment when suddenly a stream of blood was ejected from Aidan’s frothing mouth.<br /> <br /> “Oh Geez.” said the policeman, and he quickly unlocked the door. Jed stepped back, and allowed the officer. He bent down over Aidan. Jed saw his opportunity, and with a clean strike to the back of the neck – knocked the officer out cold. Aidan opened his eyes, grinned and jumped up. <br /> <br /> “Wow, that was impressive.” said Jed, “How did you manage that blood?”<br /> <br /> “Bit a chunk out of my lip as I lay down. It hurt but was worth it for the effect.” replied Aidan, rubbing the blood and saliva from his sore mouth.<br /> <br /> “Quick, got the keys, lets get Elizabeth.” said Jed as he dragged the policeman further into the cell.<br /> <br /> Outside, there were no other policeman, and Jed locked the cell and then found the key for Elizabeth’s room.<br /> <br /> “Quick, no time to explain, gotta go!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> The three of them quietly paced down the cell corridor, opening the end door. The other policemen were in the office, the sergeant talking excitedly on the phone. Jed couldn’t hear the detail of the conversation, but was pretty sure it was about the incident at the Wave House.<br /> <br /> The sergeant replaced the receiver and addressed the other two, who nodded and left the building. That left only one to overcome. Jed whispered “Let’s wait until the other two have driven off before we sort the old guy out.”<br /> <br /> After a few minutes, Jed coughed loudly down the corridor. The sergeant turned around and called “Williams, is that you?” No reply.<br /> <br /> The sergeant made his way toward the door to the corridor. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth skulked back into the corners behind the door. <br /> <br /> “Hallo? Williams?” said the sergeant again, pushing the door fully open. All the cell doors were shut bar one. Surely Williams was in there, attending to the girl.<br /> <br /> “Hope he keeps his hands off.” smirked the sergeant. Perhaps he ought to take a look.<br /> <br /> THWACK!<br /> <br /> Jed delivered another one of his finely-honed hand chops to the old sergeant, sending him to the floor. They did not waste time locking him up. Jed fumbled about looking for the file with their names on it and personal effects. Fortunately it was lying on the sergeant’s desk.<br /> <br /> “That’s coming with me!” said Jed. <br /> <br /> Bundling out of the police station, the three friends ran back to their holiday cottage. <br /> <br /> “Grab our stuff!” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “We haven’t time for that.” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes, we must. Can’t leave anything to identify us.”<br /> <br /> “What about the booking reference?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “It was in Jack’s name. Hopefully the trail will end with him.” said Jed coolly.<br /> <br /> They had enough time to clear their tracks and bundle into the car. Aidan started the engine, and quietly they trundled out of the town, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. There were two ways out of Clayton, one straight through the town centre past the Police Station and the other along the coast near the Wave House. Neither held much appeal but at least the Wave House route had not street lights for them to be illuminated by. Jed desperately wanted to floor the accelerator and get away, but he knew that it would be more noticeable to those tracking them.<br /> <br /> There was a strange humming sound overhead. All three of them tried to see up out of the windows. It was a helicopter, with a searchlight – but it wasn’t apparently looking for them. It overtook them and headed towards the Wave House site. Suddenly, another flying vehicle followed close behind the helicopter – but this was quite different. It looked like an upturned bath, with grey markings. A bit like a typical Hollywood UFO, but it glided behind the helicopter – matching its speed. The UFO’s searchlight was also aiming towards the glowing embers of the Wave House.<br /> <br /> Distracted, Aidan did not notice that he had missed the last turning onto the main road, and had come to a dead end near a barn on the edge of the Wave House grounds. To their horror, the three friends saw a whole group of people clad in white protection suits. They were spraying the field and animal corpses! Aidan slammed the car into reverse.<br /> <br /> “Quickly!” shouted Jed.<br /> <br /> BLAM! BLAM!<br /> <br /> Bullets started flying around the car. Sparks flew off the bodywork. Aidan spun the car around, smashing his rear lights on a gatepost, before speeding off into the darkness of the night....</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=The_Evil_Gnome&diff=9328 2008-11-27T21:46:49Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled...</p> <hr /> <div>The Moon was rising over the brow of Clayton Hill casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse surrounding Clayton Hill had unsettled the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend.<br /> <br /> It was late evening, and John Harrow was walking back home from his girlfriend’s house. It had been a good night, and after a romantic meal she had agreed to his idea of buying a house together. She had offered him a lift home, but John had declined – not wanting her to be out this late, even if driving.<br /> <br /> His journey home took him across the edge of the woods at the foot of Clayton Hill. As dark and creepy as this route was, it far more preferable than having to take the main road past the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, and also cut nearly half-a-mile off the journey. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and John walked confidently albeit briskly. <br /> Some superstitious locals would have questioned his choice of route, but John was not bothered by silly ancient legends. The tale of the Evil Gnome of Clayton Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally see him, you will wish you stayed at home… On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> John remembered the stories from when he was a child. His Grandfather would come up stairs to tell him a ghost story before bedtime, much to John’s mother’s disapproval, but the Grandfather always maintained he spoke the truth. The legend ran that the Evil Gnome was the ghost of a deformed hermit who lived on the Hill and had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his execution, the hermit’s ghost was alleged to have started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Adults caught on the Hill after dark could be driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken, or so the legend told. The sceptical believed that these latter victims were simply drunks who stumbled over the numerous rocky outcrops and fell to their deaths at night. <br /> <br /> John’s Grandfather elaborated the tale, he said that the Evil Gnome would come and get John if he didn’t behave. The Evil Gnome lived in the cracks in the walls, the cracks in the pavement. You could lock your doors and windows, it would do no good – he would find a way in. There was no hiding from the Evil Gnome. <br /> <br /> There was always the real event of little Jimmy Taylor, who ran away from home twenty years ago. His friend Mike said he had seen him with a small thin man on the Hill, but this was put down to an overactive imagination. Jimmy was never found. John of course didn’t believe the ghostly stories, but thought it would make a good film one day. <br /> <br /> John turned off the road, and vaulted over the stile that led up to then slopes. The concrete and asphalt of the footway very soon gave way to gravel, mud and twigs once it entered the trees. John had walked this path many times, but this was the first time at night alone. John was fit, regularly attending the gym – and the gentle slope did not deter him from maintaining a brisk pace. It was only about ten minutes and John had reached the highest point of the path. <br /> <br /> “Good, down hill now” he thought to himself. The path now entered the more thickly wooded leeward side of the hill, and the friendly scattered trees that had been his companions so far were now replaced by twisted, low-branched, crowded broadleaves – closing in over the path with a slight air of menace, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. <br /> <br /> John had not been long in the dark woods when there was a cracking sound from the path behind him. At first John didn’t even notice it, but after a few more foot falls – he became aware of its presence. Surely, just twigs falling from the trees, but there was no wind that night.<br /> <br /> “Stupid foxes” muttered John to himself.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I am talking to myself now” thought John. He started whistling. The cracking sound got louder. <br /> <br /> John quickened his pace, but the cracking sound kept up. John glanced nervously over his shoulder. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Was that a dark shape hovering about twenty feet behind him?<br /> <br /> “John, stop it!” he audibly told himself, trying to shake off his paranoia. Just then an icy breath blew on his neck causing John to shiver. <br /> <br /> “Hey!” John spun around again. No one was there, but it was starting to get misty. John felt a small kernel of panic growing in his chest. He scoffed at ghosts and goblins, but something was controlling his imagination now. The more he looked in the fractured moonlight, the more he convinced himself that shapes were moving in the mist behind him. <br /> <br /> “Stupid, stupid” said John, loud enough to startle a near-by squirrel. “I am not in some horror B-movie.” <br /> <br /> John walked briskly along the path. The chill on his neck became more intense. He tried to ignore the feelings his imagination was playing on him, and tried to think of anything other than his Grandfather’s eerie tales. <br /> <br /> “If I saw an evil gnome, I’d break his bloody fishing rod” laughed John nervously to himself.<br /> <br /> The mist was entwining itself around his legs, like spectral hands, holding him back. There was a loud crunch on the path behind him. John took one last look behind. He was sure there was definitely something on the path behind him, the mist was being disturbed by something or someone. <br /> <br /> John stood momentarily rooted to the ground, but when nothing appeared out of the misty darkness, he regained his self-control and began to run along the path, home. <br /> The cracks became thumps, the mist was overtaking him. John was running faster and faster. His heart was pounding. He dared not look behind him. The dread sight of what could be following him was too much. John’s lungs screamed for some respite, but his mind drove him on. Home, he must get home, where there was light and safety. Home!<br /> <br /> John stumbled out of the woods and onto the road. No streetlights warmed this part of town, but John could see by the moon and the way home was familiar to him. He took one fleeting glimpse back at the woods but saw nothing following him. He paused momentarily to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing but thankful he was out of the woods. After gathering his thoughts for a second, John began again on his journey. The lights of the town centre were nearing and the first houses was just in front on his left. <br /> <br /> “Nearly there..” thought John to himself, “Nearly there..”<br /> <br /> An icy chill then ran over John’s back and neck, and he instinctively looked behind before he could stop himself, but there was nothing to be seen.<br /> <br /> He eventually made it to his street and pounded up the path to his front door. He felt sure that once he was inside, he would be safe. Monsters only lived in dark woods and not in cosy houses.<br /> <br /> John checked all the doors and windows. Bolted and secure. He was safe. Suddenly feeling a little silly, he sat on the bottom step and put his head in his hands. <br /> <br /> “Whoa, John my boy. You are getting silly. There are no such things as ghosts. You fool. Still that was a good bit of exercise” he thought.<br /> <br /> John thought back to his Grandfather’s stories about how the Evil Gnome sought out naughty or lost children, even in their own homes.<br /> <br /> “I’m twenty nine, not a child.”<br /> <br /> After making himself a drink and checking the football results on the TV, John felt that he must get some sleep before he dozed off on the sofa. Going slowly upstairs, John left the hall light on, just for reassurance. In his bedroom, all was dark and calm. John sighed, undressed and slumped on the bed. The chill on his back still seemed to be there however, even though the house was warm and the bed comforting. John looked across at the half-open bedroom door, and felt an inner vulnerability that he never normally felt. He got up, shut door and locked it. He then went over to the windows, and locked them too. Without consciously knowing why, he took the key out of the lock, tore up some paper tissues and stuffed them into the keyhole. He then put the key on his bedside table. Once again flopping down on his bed, John at last felt safe, alone and relaxed. Nothing would find him here, neither real nor imagined bogeymen. John leaned across flick off his bedside lamp.<br /> <br /> Suddenly out of the darkness came a disembodied voice. It said menacingly “Good, now we are both shut in for the night......””<br /> <br /> ----<br /> <br /> “Booo!” cried Jack, jumping up from his seat in the boat.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jack, stop pissing about!” shouted Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Lighten up dude!” replied Jack, “You don’t really believe in ghosts do you? I was only having a bit of fun!”<br /> <br /> “Well, it wasn’t very funny” added Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Children, children” said Jed, as he put down his book he had been reading to the others.<br /> <br /> Jack sat back down in the little dinghy, his rocking motion antics still being felt in the stomachs of his friends. The small dinghy bobbed and swayed in the swirling wind. What had started as a fun fishing trip was losing its novelty fast. The fine weather had broken, no fish had been caught and tempers were now fraying. <br /> <br /> They had all, reluctantly, followed Jack’s suggestion of a bit of sea fishing, and now he was the first to become bored. Nevertheless, it was the last day of their holiday and were all determined to have a good time. <br /> <br /> Clayton-on-Sea was not your typical holiday destination. A medium sized seaside town, it had definitely seen better days. It perfectly encapsulated the ‘end of the railway line’ bleakness, being stranded on the end of long peninsula with very few hills to give any protection from the wind and rain blowing up the English Channel. The one geographical feature of note was Clayton Hill – mentioned in the ghost story and truly known locally and infamously as Claw Hill. It was a large rock monolith left behind from years of coastal erosion. Its rutted and pitted escarpments gave it the appearance of a large clawed beast, sitting ready to pounce over the town at its base. At least it has escaped the widespread rioting and civil unrest affecting most of New Britain at that time.<br /> <br /> The four friends had met at college and had thought that a week away to mark the end of their last summer before going off to University would be good idea. Aidan Beaufort and Elizabeth Quinn had been dating for over a year now and had spent the majority of the holiday in their room, studious Jed Holden was a year older and wanted some quiet time to read away from the pressures of home and to prepare for his degree but had been largely prevented from doing this by the fourth member of the group, the heavy partying Jack Storm. Jack idea of a good time was trying to consume a brewery’s worth of alcohol in one night, trying to sleep with as many ‘chicks’ (as he called them) as possible before waking up in some random location before doing it all over again the next night. Orphaned as a baby and spending most of his life in abusive institutional care had obviously affected him. He often pestered Jed to join him in his nightclub adventures, which usually ended with Jed carrying the unconscious Jack back at 4am.<br /> Jack kicked the floor of the boat in boredom, but then produced a pack of playing cards from his jacket pocket.<br /> <br /> “Alright then, who’s for a game of strip poker?” he said almost menacingly, looking straight at Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Get lost you creep,” sniped Elizabeth. <br /> <br /> “Aww, you’re no fun” sulked Jack as he put down the cards, and pulled out a cigarette and matches from his pocket.<br /> <br /> “Oh, don’t smoke – it stinks” moaned Elizabeth, and she snatched the matches from Jack’s hand.<br /> <br /> “Cow!” cursed Jack, and sat back sulking. <br /> <br /> “Hey, you take that back,” interrupted Aidan, protecting his girlfriend.<br /> <br /> “I have a better idea. A magic trick” said Jed, putting down his book and taking pack from between Jack’s feet. Jed shuffled the pack, and then started to flick through the corners of them, holding the cards so only the others could see them. “Say stop and look at the card revealed” said Jed.<br /> <br /> Jack said “Stop!” almost immediately, hoping to catch Jed out. <br /> <br /> Jed said “Remember the card but don’t tell me.” He then reshuffled the pack and began to turn each one over dropping them face-up on the floor of the boat one by one. He had thrown all the cards in his hand onto floor and then said “Did you see your card drop?”<br /> <br /> “No.” said Elizabeth, puzzled.<br /> <br /> “Look in your jacket pocket.” he said to Jack, and there was the chosen card – the jack of clubs.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Hell Dread! You jammy Arse. Ever since you got into all that magic and hypnotism at the ruddy joke shop in town, you’ve been showing off too much.” said Jack. <br /> <br /> “My name’s Jed, not Dread, and well, it seemed appropriate for you – Sir JACK of the NightCLUBS.”<br /> <br /> “Again, again.” said Elizabeth, but a rumble of thunder cut the frivolity in an instant. <br /> <br /> “Think we’d better get back.” said Jed, looking concerned at the growing black cloud in the mid-distance. The four of them put the fishing equipment away and Aidan pulled the cord for the motor, but a smokey splutter was all his reward.<br /> <br /> “Try again.” said Elizabeth nervously, but the motor still did not respond.<br /> <br /> “The sails.” ordered Jed, and with some difficulty they raised the flimsy canvas. None of them were experienced sailors and it soon dawned on them that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for them to have any hope of making back to Clayton Marina, the technique of tacking being beyond even cerebral Jed. <br /> <br /> “It’s no use, we must get shore and find some cover.” said Jed, as lighting flashed, another thunderclap sounded and now hail began to fall. The wind was blowing them quite fast, towards the dunes and the ruined manor on the foreshore.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps we can hide out in that old house?” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “You can, I’d rather take my chance with the storm.” replied Elizabeth, “It looks unsafe.”<br /> <br /> “You might be right.” said Jed. “That place looks certainly as though it has seen better days. Locally it’s called the Wave House”.<br /> <br /> Jed had been reading Overlooked Britain by local author Professor Hercules Leviathan Scudder – full of myths, legends and factual history about their island home. He explained that once, Berry Manor had been an impressive Victorian manor – perched on shingle banks overlooking Clayton Bay. To its rear were formal gardens that backed onto the woods at one end of Clayton or ‘Claw’ Hill, intersected by a narrow country lane leading back to Clayton town centre, but since the World War, Berry Manor was not much more than a crumbling, eerie and deserted ruin. <br /> <br /> Its last owner, Gethin Kerr, was a despised local figure who had been suspected of shooting his older brother in the back to inherit the house and land. Although arrested and question, Kerr’s guilt could never be proven at the time and after release, Kerr lived alone in the house, shunned by the people of Clayton. One night, a huge storm blew in from the sea – breaking through the dune defences and swamping Berry Manor and its grounds. Gethin Kerr was never seen again and it was widely believed that he had received divine justice for his crime.<br /> The surrounding land became salt marsh regularly flooded at high tide. No heirs could be found for Kerr and the house passed to the local council, who left it to collapse into the sea. High metal fencing was erected on the landward side to keep people out of the dangerous structure and only the brave or foolhardy could approach the water-lapped building from the sea, hence its new nickname – the Wave House. Strange lights could be seen there at night, and eerie sounds could be heard after dark. These were dismissed as marsh gas and the wind; but the legends persisted that the site was haunted.<br /> <br /> The dinghy beached itself on the shore and the friends nervously clambered out. The quartet pulled the boat as far up the beach as possible and looked about. The tide was also sweeping in and had already cut off any hope of walking along the beach back to Clayton. They had no option but trudge inland over the bog and past the Wave House. They squelched their way up the bramble bank and got a better look at the house. It stood in large, overgrown gardens, with muddy channels criss-crossing what had once been manicured lawns. The windows were mostly smashed or boarded up, but all the ground floor ones had metal grills fixed over them to stop vandals entering. The ragged remains of heavy weather-worn curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning to the passers-by of the menace within. <br /> <br /> “Man, that place looks like the perfect haunted house. Wooooo!” joked Jack, running a fingery hand over Elizabeth’s shoulder, making her jump.<br /> <br /> The four of them scrambled down and picked their way through the boggy grounds looking for the drive that would lead them back to the main road. It was difficult to find their footings in the growing gloom and the rain made the ground even more slippery.<br /> <br /> “Curse this, I’m going to hide out of the rain.” said Jack, and he veered over to the ruined house. <br /> <br /> “Come back.” said Jed, but Jack was already at the door. The others followed, reluctantly, as the rain pelted even harder.<br /> <br /> Out of sight of the friends, in the dark corner of the grounds, a lumbering two-legged shape stalked their movements, its long scythe-like weapon trailing in the mud behind its uneven steps. <br /> <br /> Upon entering the hall of the Wave House, all four were surprised to find that it was much less ruined than the decrepit outside would have suggested. It put Jed in mind of a theme park ghost train ride that was all haunted old ruin on the outside, but concrete and steel building inside. The hall was very dark, lit only by the twilight from the open door and smashed windows, but it was smooth floored with wood panelling on the walls, but lacking furniture, save a few book cases and wardrobes.<br /> <br /> “Come on, let’s have a look around.” said Jack and he darted off through another door into one of the reception rooms. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth followed cagily, only for Jack to jump out from behind the door with a loud “Boo!”<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed.<br /> <br /> “You idiot!” said Aidan and he sprung at Jack and gave him a shove that made Jack stumble backwards. He nearly regained his footing before his left foot caught itself on a loose brick on the floor and he crashed back against one of the wooden panels on the wall. It swung back effortlessly and Jack fell into the void, with the panel clicking shut behind him!<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” screamed Aidan, and he ran over and pummelled on the panel, trying to get it to open.<br /> <br /> “Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” shouted Jed. The only sound was the wind outside. The three remaining looked at each other in horror.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Jack picked himself up off the floor. He guessed that he must have fallen at least fifteen feet down a smooth shoot, but apart from a few bruises – felt fine.<br /> <br /> “Bloody Aidan!” shouted Jack, but there was no hollowness to the echo and the room was pitch black. The room felt solid like a prison cell. Picking his way across the floor, Jack tripped and stumbled over objects on the floor. He held out his arms in front of him, reaching for a wall or a door. Something then knocked him in the face. It was something dangling from the roof, like a boxer’s punch bag. Jack felt uneasy. He then remembered that his mobile phone had a small LED torch built in. He reached into his pocket and was relieved that the torch still worked. He joy was short lived. The beam shone on the dangling object. It was a strange greenish-brown colour, and it dawned on Jack that it was flesh. He raised the beam up the object, and nearly vomited when he saw it had the outline of a human torso, its head held in place by a gibbet-like cage at its shoulders. The beam also illuminated some more of these corpses, hanging in rows behind this first one. As if on cue from the torch light, their putrid eyes opened and stared at Jack! <br /> <br /> “Oh my god, oh my god!” Jack cried as he staggered back in terror. Something standing behind him in the dark stopped his progress, and Jack spun round to look up. Jack barely had time to shine his torch on the creature’s armoured chest before the phone torch was knocked from his hand. The giant figure then grabbed Jack, holding him tight. Jack was turned back to look into the darkness. Two small red pinpricks of light could be seen in the darkness, low down. Out of the gloom appeared a frightful dwarf, with a long pointed finger similar to a sharp syringe. The dwarf leered at Jack, who desperately tried to break free. Suddenly the dwarf leapt into the air, landed on Jack’s chest and gabbed the syringe-like finger into Jack’s neck. The large creature released Jack as the dwarf jumped back to floor.<br /> Jack screamed in agony as dark pulsating veins erupted over his exposed skin, tracing a web towards his terrified bloodshot eyes and then darkness overtook him.<br /> <br /> Meanwhile, Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth were still trying to force open the panel, but it remained rock solid and shut. They continued to bang and shout, but no response from Jack. <br /> <br /> “I bet that creep is still playing tricks on us.” said Aidan, anger trying to cover his guilty conscience. <br /> <br /> “Come on, we must search for him. Let’s split up.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “Can I stay with Aidan”. said Elizabeth, scared.<br /> <br /> “Very well, you try opening the panel, I’ll check to see of there is a door to the cellar.” And with that Jed left.<br /> <br /> Jed looked down the hall. There seemed to be no obvious door under the staircase, and he made his way into the room which he thought might be the kitchen. There was indeed equipment in there, but not what he was expecting. Metal tanks and desks filled the room, all marked with a strange geometric symbol – a sort of cross with a straight vertical bar but a barbed horizontal one. Jed was well-read and he recognised it as an ancient runic symbol called the Wolf Hook that was used to ward off supernatural beasts, but what it was doing here he could not fathom.<br /> <br /> “Argh!” cried Jed as out of the darkness a huge blade sliced down next to him, grazing his forearm. He turned around and saw a seven foot creature, vaguely humanoid with glowing red eyes wielding a huge reaper scythe. It raised the weapon again but Jed, gritting his teeth, managed to dodge the second strike, the scythe embedding itself in the wooden floorboard<br /> Jed was temporarily disorientated by the attack, but at least the creature was relatively slow in its movements. Jed tried to clear his mind and focus, as he had trained himself to do. He saw that a large wooden cabinet rested against the main wall of the room. As the creature began to try and extricate the scythe from the floor, Jed gingerly moved over to the side of the cabinet and pulled with all his strength. The cabinet was top-heavy - it tilted and then toppled over, right on top of the creature.<br /> Jed was breathing hard, and looked down at his arm. It was only a small gash but the cut looked dirty. He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the wound clean as best he could and made for the door. <br /> <br /> Crack! Jed spun around to see the fist of the creature smash through the back of the cabinet, followed by its arm and another fist – splintering the wood as it emerged. Just at this point, Jack appeared at the door.<br /> <br /> “Dread, this way!” he shouted, and Jed clambered over the broken piled of equipment to make his way out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him.<br /> <br /> “What happened Dread?” said Jack.<br /> <br /> “Dunno. Someone attacked me. Huge man, looked freaky. Where have you been?” spluttered Jed.<br /> <br /> “No where. Sounds weird Dread” said Jack. Jed looked at his friend, unsure of his feelings.<br /> <br /> “Jack, can’t you say anything but Dread?”<br /> <br /> The evening light shone down the hall. It had an almost spectral quality. Jack looked blankly at Jed, not answering. At that point there was a break in the clouds. Moonlight shone straight down the hall, silhouetting Jack. Jed was dismayed to see strange luminous purple and green veins glowing under Jack’s skin.<br /> <br /> “Jack, what’s wrong?” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “I have a gift, I have a gift, I have a gift…” repeated Jack, as if in a trance.<br /> <br /> “Jack!” shouted Jed. Jack stared at Jed, his expression turning into a sinister sneer.<br /> <br /> “Orak commands!” shouted Jack, and as he spoke his skin beginning to crawl, dark veins began to swell and Jack’s hands became claws. Jack leapt at Jed with bestial fury screaming “Orak commands!”<br /> <br /> Stunned, Jed was floored by the mutated Jack who started to try and strangle his former friend. Jed managed to grab Jack’s arms and pulled them away from his own throat, and then punched Jack in the face. This temporarily disoriented Jack. Jed scurried across the floor, and found a piece of rubble. Jack was by now back on his feet and rushing towards Jed, his clawed fingers dripping green ooze from the talons. Jed wielded the rock, and managed to strike Jack on the side of head, sending him to the ground with a thud.<br /> Jack’s mutant, lifeless body lay on the floor – the dark veins melting slowly back into his skin. Jed stood up painfully, and walked over and knelt down next to his friend.<br /> <br /> “Oh Jack, what is going on?” asked Jed quietly to himself.<br /> <br /> Kerump!! The door and frame next to him burst open and the giant scythe creature staggered into the hallway, sending some rubble down on top of Jed and Jack. Jed tried to pull Jack away from the creature, but his exertions had exhausted him. Jed staggered back, expecting another scythe attack at any moment. He could now see the creature in better light. It was not a pretty sight. It was about seven feet tall. Jed couldn’t tell clearly if it was naked or dressed in a skin tight black rubber suit, but either way it has ragged peeling bits all over. It legs were booted and its arms long and clawed. Its head was bald, green and black and mostly featureless except for a slit of a mouth and two piercing red eyes that glowed in the twilight. It was the stuff of nightmares but this was all too real. <br /> <br /> The monster swung its scythe down towards Jed and Jack’s position. It missed Jack and would have struck Jed had he not slithered out of the way with milliseconds to spare. The monster roared a ghastly screech and thumped its fist into the wall. Another avalanche of rubble and dust fell down on Jack and Jed. Jed had no choice but had to abandon his friend on the floor and get away. Crawling back along the hallway to the front, he found the door to the room where Aidan and Elizabeth were. It was locked! To his horror, a quick look around told him that he was trapped in this hall, the only way out was passed the creature, or maybe…..?<br /> Jed got to his feet, took a small run and charged at the wall. It cracked, but so did his shoulder. Trying to blot out the pain, Jed took another run up and then did a flying kick at the crack. The crumbling masonry heaved over and he pulled himself through the hole in the wall, tumbling in a heap at the feet of Aidan and Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Jesus, what happened?” asked Aidan. <br /> <br /> “Attacked…. Jack …. Dead…. Attacked….creature..” garbled Jed.<br /> <br /> “You’re bleeding.” said Elizabeth, who tried to wipe the blood off Jed’s face and arm.<br /> <br /> “No time, it’s out there. It’s got Jack.” said Jed more firmly.<br /> <br /> “What has? We were in here trying open the panel, then the door slammed shut and was locked. We then heard a lot of crashing and banging, then you emerge through the wall!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Quick, help me barricade the door and the hole,” said Jed, panting. “I was looking for Jack, and was attacked by this thing – I don’t know what it was. Some giant zombie or something crazy. Then Jack appeared, but he seemed to be changing into a zombie and attacked me too. They’re both out in the hallway. I can’t get my head around it.”<br /> <br /> “I don’t care what you say,” said Elizabeth, “this house is haunted and we’re gonna die.”<br /> <br /> “No, no.” said Jed quietly, “Something’s not right here. I am sure ghosts do not exist. This is something else, more sinister.”<br /> <br /> “More sinister than ghosts?” chided Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “No time for theories now,” interrupted Aidan, pointing to the hole in the wall. The creature’s clawed hand was reaching through – scrabbling for purchase. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth pulled what items of furniture they could to block the door and hole. Aidan threw a couple of bricks at the beast through the hole – enough to make it recoil so they could slam the cupboard across the gap.<br /> <br /> All their hearts thumped almost painfully. This was indeed a nightmare. They couldn’t abandon Jack but at present they were fighting for their own survival.<br /> <br /> “That should hold it for a bit.” exhaled Jed.<br /> <br /> “What happened to Jack?” asked Elizabeth, unsure that she wanted to hear the answer.<br /> <br /> “He was…” Jed paused, “Changing before my eyes. A bit like the Borg in Star Trek, wiry black veins over his face. I felt sick.” <br /> <br /> “Could it be some infection?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Whatever it was, we may soon find out.” said Jed, pointing to the door.<br /> <br /> Thump! Thump! Thump! The door shook with each strike from the monster beyond. The wood around the lock started to splinter. <br /> <br /> “Have any of you got a torch?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “No, why?” asked Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Wanted to inspect the walls. If there is one secret panel, there may be another? We can also try and open the windows.”<br /> <br /> “No use.” said Aidan. “Tried that. They are all blocked with metal bars, screwed tight. Too small to squeeze through.” <br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “I’ve got some matches.” said Elizabeth. “Took them off Jack on the dinghy.”<br /> <br /> She illuminated the gloom with the flickering flame, which shook even more in the draft and her unsteady hand.<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “Ah, here’s another panel.” said Jed, “Ah, that’s interesting.”<br /> <br /> “What’s interesting?” asked Aidan, “We haven’t time for one of your mysteries.”<br /> <br /> THUMP! THUMP!<br /> <br /> “The markings on this panel match those on the equipment I saw in the other room. Its an old runic symbol from ancient Norse legend; but is embossed with laser cut precision.”<br /> <br /> “So?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “So, whatever is happening here is technologically advanced.”<br /> <br /> CRASH! The door exploded off its hinges, sending wood and the stacked furniture flying into the room. The towering scythe creature stood leering through the doorway, its red eyes searching the room for living flesh.<br /> <br /> Elizabeth screamed and dropped the match. As luck would have it, the match landed on some rags on the wooden floor and immediately caught them alight. The flames licked and spluttered across the floor.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m sorry.” whimpered Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry, this might be our saviour.” said Jed.<br /> <br /> The flames arced around the room, not blocking the trio from the door but did make their escape through the door narrow and precarious. The scythe creature looked blankly at the roaring flames, and it slowly made its way forward towards them, still dragging its weapon behind it. It seemed fascinated by the dancing lights – unsure if the fire itself was another creature itself.<br /> <br /> “Now!” shouted Jed, and grabbing both his friends arms, pulled them towards the open doorway. The creature turned to look at them, but Jed had already barged his shoulder into the creatures mid-drift. Pain surged through Jed’s shoulder as it connected with the monster’s carapace, but it gave them enough time and space to dart through the gap and back into the hall. The front door was locked, but both Jed and Aidan’s repeated kicks managed to break the lock and they were free.<br /> <br /> They looked back as they stumbled into the garden. The scythe creature stood silhouetted in the front door against the flames, not attempting to follow them out. The fire had taken hold now and the soon the whole building was an inferno. <br /> <br /> Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth stumbled in the darkness – using the light of the flames to find their way fortunately to the old driveway. Looking back one last time, they saw the old house collapse in on itself with a sickening crunch.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Jack.” said Aidan quietly.<br /> <br /> They ran up the driveway, their sodden shoes slowing their progress, Elizabeth losing hers altogether in the mud.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Elizabeth. “We have to go to the Police. Jack’s dead.”<br /> <br /> “And tell them what exactly? That we broke into a dangerous building? That we were attacked by a giant bug-eyed monster and our friend turned into a zombie before we burnt the place to the ground. That really sounds convincing!” snapped Aidan.<br /> <br /> “I only…” replied Elizabeth, hurt, before Jed interjected.<br /> <br /> “I don’t know what is behind all this. Maybe it was supernatural, maybe it wasn’t. Either way – we are still in trouble and I don’t think the Police can or will help us.” <br /> <br /> Eventually, they made it to the main road running back to Clayton. It was getting later in the evening, and the street lights of the town centre were a welcome focus for their journey. It was about two miles back into town, but the roads were quiet. Surely someone in the village must have seen the flames coming from the Wave House? Arriving in the town, Elizabeth marched straight to the police station. <br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “We must tell them what happened!” she shouted.<br /> <br /> “It won’t help Jack. We could be in all sorts of trouble if we confess to tonight’s happenings. Jack had no family. We can keep it to ourselves.” said Jed calmly, clearly wanting to avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the authorities.<br /> <br /> “How can you be so cold?” said Elizabeth and he hurried on and into the Police Station. The grizzled sergeant looked up from the desk. There was a crackle of noise from the police radio – reports of an incident near Berry Manor.<br /> <br /> “Can I help you?” asked the policeman, in a dismissive tone.<br /> <br /> “We were at the Wave House. Caught fire. Attacked by someone. Our friend might be dead. You must help us” blurted Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “Whoah! Did you say you were at Berry Manor?” interrupted the policeman, reaching under the desk with his right hand.<br /> <br /> “Yes, it caught fire and our friend was trapped.” <br /> <br /> “I see..” said the police sergeant menacingly. At that moment, a side door opened and two unformed officers came into the lobby. The grabbed Elizabeth by the arms.<br /> <br /> “I am arresting you on suspicion of arson and being under the influence of a banned substance.”<br /> <br /> “Hey wait!” shouted Aidan from the doorway, but he too was over powered by more constables. Jed, standing outside on the steps, couldn’t see what was happening but heard raised voices. From out of the gloom came a tall thin man with a dishevelled appearance, wrapped in a long black leather coat.<br /> <br /> “Got the time friend?” asked the stranger.<br /> <br /> “Urm, about eleven thirty.” replied Jed, looking at his watch.<br /> <br /> “Thank you.” replied the stranger. Jed turned back to look at the police station door, but received a painful strike to the back of the head, sending him to the floor.<br /> <br /> <br /> Jed awoke in a cell. Aidan was sitting cross-legged on the bench next to him.<br /> <br /> “Wondered when you would wake up” he said.<br /> <br /> “How long was I out for?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “Not long, ten minutes or so. Elizabeth’s next door I think. We are in deep trouble. I was dreading something like this but she wouldn’t listen” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Dread not. How many policemen are there?” asked Jed.<br /> <br /> “About four I think. We must find a way out of here.” said Aidan, ponderously.<br /> <br /> “Only four, that’s ok. We must get out of here. Police don’t cosh people over the head like that, even in New Britain. There is something deeply amiss here. Aidan, here’s what I need you to do.” Jed whispered, “Collapse on the floor as if you are having a fit. Make it convincing. I’ll do the rest.”<br /> <br /> Aidan put all his amateur dramatic experience, including frothing at the mouth, to good use whilst Jed pummelled on the cell door.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Hey! Help! My friend’s dying. He’s having a seizure. Someone please help!” shouted Jed. After a small pause, the viewing hatch opened. A weasely looking face peered through.<br /> <br /> “What?!” asked the Policeman.<br /> <br /> “It’s my friend. He’s had some sort of a fit. He’s got problems with his lungs and heart.” pleaded Jed.<br /> <br /> “Hah, nice try.” replied the policeman “Any idiot can roll around on the floor.”<br /> <br /> Just then Aidan coughed and spluttered. The policeman casually looked over, planning some sarcastic comment when suddenly a stream of blood was ejected from Aidan’s frothing mouth.<br /> <br /> “Oh Geez.” said the policeman, and he quickly unlocked the door. Jed stepped back, and allowed the officer. He bent down over Aidan. Jed saw his opportunity, and with a clean strike to the back of the neck – knocked the officer out cold. Aidan opened his eyes, grinned and jumped up. <br /> <br /> “Wow, that was impressive.” said Jed, “How did you manage that blood?”<br /> <br /> “Bit a chunk out of my lip as I lay down. It hurt but was worth it for the effect.” replied Aidan, rubbing the blood and saliva from his sore mouth.<br /> <br /> “Quick, got the keys, lets get Elizabeth.” said Jed as he dragged the policeman further into the cell.<br /> <br /> Outside, there were no other policeman, and Jed locked the cell and then found the key for Elizabeth’s room.<br /> <br /> “Quick, no time to explain, gotta go!” said Aidan.<br /> <br /> The three of them quietly paced down the cell corridor, opening the end door. The other policemen were in the office, the sergeant talking excitedly on the phone. Jed couldn’t hear the detail of the conversation, but was pretty sure it was about the incident at the Wave House.<br /> <br /> The sergeant replaced the receiver and addressed the other two, who nodded and left the building. That left only one to overcome. Jed whispered “Let’s wait until the other two have driven off before we sort the old guy out.”<br /> <br /> After a few minutes, Jed coughed loudly down the corridor. The sergeant turned around and called “Williams, is that you?” No reply.<br /> <br /> The sergeant made his way toward the door to the corridor. Jed, Aidan and Elizabeth skulked back into the corners behind the door. <br /> <br /> “Hallo? Williams?” said the sergeant again, pushing the door fully open. All the cell doors were shut bar one. Surely Williams was in there, attending to the girl.<br /> <br /> “Hope he keeps his hands off.” smirked the sergeant. Perhaps he ought to take a look.<br /> <br /> THWACK!<br /> <br /> Jed delivered another one of his finely-honed hand chops to the old sergeant, sending him to the floor. They did not waste time locking him up. Jed fumbled about looking for the file with their names on it and personal effects. Fortunately it was lying on the sergeant’s desk.<br /> <br /> “That’s coming with me!” said Jed. <br /> <br /> Bundling out of the police station, the three friends ran back to their holiday cottage. <br /> <br /> “Grab our stuff!” said Jed.<br /> <br /> “We haven’t time for that.” replied Aidan.<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes, we must. Can’t leave anything to identify us.”<br /> <br /> “What about the booking reference?” asked Elizabeth.<br /> <br /> “It was in Jack’s name. Hopefully the trail will end with him.” said Jed coolly.<br /> <br /> They had enough time to clear their tracks and bundle into the car. Aidan started the engine, and quietly they trundled out of the town, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. There were two ways out of Clayton, one straight through the town centre past the Police Station and the other along the coast near the Wave House. Neither held much appeal but at least the Wave House route had not street lights for them to be illuminated by. Jed desperately wanted to floor the accelerator and get away, but he knew that it would be more noticeable to those tracking them.<br /> <br /> There was a strange humming sound overhead. All three of them tried to see up out of the windows. It was a helicopter, with a searchlight – but it wasn’t apparently looking for them. It overtook them and headed towards the Wave House site. Suddenly, another flying vehicle followed close behind the helicopter – but this was quite different. It looked like an upturned bath, with grey markings. A bit like a typical Hollywood UFO, but it glided behind the helicopter – matching its speed. The UFO’s searchlight was also aiming towards the glowing embers of the Wave House.<br /> <br /> Distracted, Aidan did not notice that he had missed the last turning onto the main road, and had come to a dead end near a barn on the edge of the Wave House grounds. To their horror, the three friends saw a whole group of people clad in white protection suits. They were spraying the field and animal corpses! Aidan slammed the car into reverse.<br /> <br /> “Quickly!” shouted Jed.<br /> <br /> BLAM! BLAM!<br /> <br /> Bullets started flying around the car. Sparks flew off the bodywork. Aidan spun the car around, smashing his rear lights on a gatepost, before speeding off into the darkness of the night....</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=9327 2008-11-27T21:41:37Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF THE WHITELION!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> UNIVERSE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[THE EVIL GNOME]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe: Beware the Evil Gnome!<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Second Part of a New Story Universe: A boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[I'M GOING SLIGHTLY MAD]]<br /> Set in the Winds of Change Univers-ity...<br /> <br /> <br /> STAND-ALONE STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=9326 2008-11-27T21:11:53Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF THE LION!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy.<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5386 2008-01-17T17:38:39Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy.<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5385 2008-01-17T17:37:42Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequels to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=School_Daze&diff=5338 2008-01-15T17:16:10Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>They say that your school days are the best days of your life. Mine weren’t. Most of my childhood was spent in fear and above all loneliness. My life was happy until my baby brother Jason was born – when I was six. I had been an only child up until then, but now I had to share my World with a demanding, crying, pink demon. Well, that was my selfish and childish feeling during the first year – but I soon changed my opinion when I realised what fun it was going to be to have a kid brother. Being an only child has benefits – such as getting spoilt by your parents (but my family never had much money); but it also can be very lonely. Now I had a friend.<br /> <br /> My newfound hope began to fade. The extra cost of my baby brother was putting a strain on my parents. To the best of my knowledge, Jason had been an accident – for which my father blamed my mother. To compound matters – the firm my father worked for was relocating overseas. My father had agreed to go, but my mother refused to move. The pain and the anger began to increase day by day. Arguments were virtually a daily occurrence. Thankfully, violence never happened – at least not to my knowledge. Sure, I was spanked for misbehaving – but that’s all. Poor Jason was still a baby, unaware of the worsening situation. Some nights, my parents would be rowing for hours – and would not hear Jason’s crying in his cot. I tried to sleep, and ignore the sounds outside my bedroom door; but I just couldn’t. I would see what was wrong with Jason. Often he was just hungry, or tired, or needed his nappy changed. I had become a dab hand with nappies by my seventh birthday.<br /> <br /> Other nights, I would sneak out of my room secretly, and pad across the landing to Jason. He used to get terribly upset when my parents shouted at each other. I used to lie by his bed at night and sing to him to drown out the sound downstairs. His favourite songs were Bright Eyes and Puff the Magic Dragon. Sometimes I’d fall asleep by his bedside – at which point he’d decide to wake up again and pull my hair through the bars of the cot.<br /> <br /> ‘Zing more! Zing more!’ he would say, and I’d have to sing my whole repertoire all over again. Mum or Dad would often find me fast asleep on the floor, and send me back to my own bedroom because I had school in the morning.<br /> <br /> This situation carried on for almost two years. At last my father’s company had moved abroad – and this was the final nail in my parents marriage. They divorced when I was nine. My father moved away – and my mother, Jason and I had to move into a small house. Maintenance cheques came from my father – but these were not much. My mother had to work nights at a call centre to make ends meet, leaving me to fend for myself and Jason in the evenings.<br /> <br /> For most of my childhood, Jason was my only friend. I did know others, but they didn’t want to get too close to me. This was in fear of being bullied like me. I and my brother were the only protestant children, and of divorced parents at a catholic boys’ school. We were on an assisted place scheme, having our fees paid for by the local council. I believe that it was part of a token gesture by the school to open its doors to the less fortunate members of the local community – and we were the guinea pigs.<br /> <br /> In the beginning, the bullying was just taunts from the other boys, as well as the occasional fight – but nothing out of the ordinary for one’s schooldays. Thankfully, I took the brunt of their cruel boredom. They seemed to leave Jason alone. That was until a boy called Philip Miles joined. I’m not really sure how best to describe Philip. He was the sort of person who would tie a firework to a cat’s tail and laugh as it burnt the poor creature. Why he was like that, I still cannot say. He wasn’t even from a broken home. He had two parents, was well off and had no reason to be the way he was. Perhaps he was ill, but I don’t know. He was certainly sick in his attitude!<br /> <br /> I knew this, and so I tried to avoid him. This he noticed, and so tried to taunt me into a reaction. A couple of times he would do things such as push my school books onto the floor, and shout “Pick those up Dog Boy” or something similar. Other times he would stamp on my feet with his football studs during games lessons. Gritting my teeth on most occasions – I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Once I finally lost my temper and tried to punch him, but he was bigger than I was, and quite easily overpowered my pathetic assault. <br /> Then he noticed that the only thing that would make me react was a threat to Jason. He would do things like trip Jason over down the corridors, and steal his satchel from him – throwing it over the school wall. Usually this occurred when I was not around – and I would only hear about it at home. Most evenings I would return home with Jason on our own, make some dinner, wake my mother with a cup of tea, and then do my homework. Nowadays, my mother would be unfairly accused of neglecting us – but in truth she was working horrible hours in poor conditions to keep us in clothes and food. I remember saving all my pocket money for months, and managed to buy my mother a necklace for her birthday. Thinking back, it was not of any real quality – but she still wore it proudly to work every day.<br /> <br /> Once Jason had told me of Philip’s actions, I would confront him the next day in class. He had, though, managed to assemble as well drilled gang of about half a dozen or more boys. I was powerless to do anything other than a token bout of fighting. I usually end the day with a bruise or sometimes even a black eye. I tried to tell my teacher, which only succeeded in getting Philip a detention, and making him even madder. It was not long before things started to get out of hand.<br /> <br /> The first serious occasion I care to recall was one lunchtime. I was walking past a classroom window when I happened to chance upon one of Philip’s gang holding Jason by the throat. His hands were around Jason’s throat, crushing in on his windpipe. They couldn’t see me. Then I did something I have always deeply regretted – I hesitated!<br /> <br /> I pondered, briefly, that perhaps it would be better for Jason to learn to protect himself. What if I wasn’t walking passed the window? What if something happened to me in the future? He would need to look after himself. However, that thought was only a few seconds. A few long, painful, guilty seconds. Finally, I came to my senses and raced into the classroom. Leaping onto the other boy I managed to pull Jason free. Putting myself between Jason and the thug I edged towards the door. Jason was crying and hurt; large bruises evident around his neck. I got him to relative safety, and stayed with him until the bell went for lessons. I have always hated myself for pausing – trying to be too clever for my own good. Thankfully he never knew I had waited – but what if that wait had caused Jason a serious injury?<br /> <br /> The next incident was more serious. Somehow Philip had lured Jason into an empty classroom at break time, probably by snatching his bag or something. Anyway, whilst another kept the duty teacher busy talking, Philip sent one of his cronies to find me. <br /> <br /> “We’ve got your brother Brookes, and if you don’t come now – he’s finished!” I rushed to the ambush site to be confronted by Philip having poor little Jason in a head-lock, with several henchmen around.<br /> <br /> “Let him go!” I shouted but it was no use. I lunged at Philip, but was wrestled to the ground by his cronies. <br /> <br /> “Brookes – you have a choice. Punch your brother in the face, and we’ll let you go. Or you both get smashed!”<br /> <br /> I looked at Jason. He was grimacing with pain, but tried valiantly not to let Philip know he was hurt. They all taunted us, shouting “Punch him, punch him, punch him!” I turned and glared at Philip. <br /> <br /> “Let him GO!” I bellowed again. Jason was now sobbing.<br /> <br /> “Punch him hard – and we’ll never pick on you again!” smirked Philip, followed by chuckles from his pack of hyenas. It was no good. I had no choice. I got up and walked towards them. I raised my fist, and punched Philip! <br /> <br /> In a flash, they released Jason and had set upon me. Philip – initially stunned by my action, then drew a pair of compasses from his pockets – and drove the point into my shoulder – then dragged it along to my arm. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. Without another word, they all fled. Shakily getting to my feet, I went over to Jason, who was crying. Putting my arm around him, we left the room. I told no one of this.<br /> <br /> I hoped that was going to be the end of it, and also that Jason would have learnt to stay away from the senior classrooms and stay in the playground, but I was to be disappointed on both.<br /> It was now just before Easter. Jason had got a plastic model aeroplane for his birthday, and despite my strong reservations, he took it to school to show his friends. This was too good an opportunity for Philip to miss. A chance to lure me to his final ambush. Once in the playground, Philip managed to snatch the plane from Jason’s grasp and ran off with it towards the cloakrooms.<br /> <br /> “Come and get it!” cackled back Philip.<br /> <br /> “Give it back!” cried Jason. He was only just eight, and no match for Philip and his crowd. He was also a junior, and was fearful of entering the senior boys’ cloakroom. Jason came running over to me in the playground, tears pouring from his eyes.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve t...t...taken my p..plane” he bawled.<br /> <br /> “Who have?” I replied, putting my arm around him.<br /> <br /> “Those b...b..boys in your c....class. That n....nasty one.”<br /> <br /> My heart sank. Any initial thought of an easy retrieval from a bunch of jealous eight year olds was gone. It was Philip, and I knew that this was another trap. But I had no choice. I couldn’t let Jason down again.<br /> <br /> “Where have they gone?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve g-gone into t-the cloakroom” sobbed Jason.<br /> <br /> “Right, stay here!” I said. “I’ll get it back. I promise.”<br /> <br /> I walked slowly over to the cloakroom. Jason skulked behind me, disobeying my plea to remain outside. As I entered the cloakroom, I found Philip sitting on his haunches against the far wall. Around the room were his minions. As I entered the room, they cut off my retreat. I was terribly afraid, but I had to do it.<br /> <br /> “Ah, Brookes. Come to sort out your no good brother!” he laughed.<br /> <br /> “Give his plane back! It’s me your after. Leave him out of it.” I said as calmly as I could muster. Even as I said it, I felt it sounded rather corny. A bit too Hollywood. <br /> <br /> “Beg!” snarled Philip.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you!” I snapped.<br /> <br /> “Beg you cock, or I’ll break it”. Philip put his hands on the wings of the plane, and began to twist the plastic. I turned to see Jason, who had wandered to the door. He sobbed quietly. <br /> <br /> Spinning back to Philip, I quickly replied “Okay, okay. Just don’t break it.”<br /> <br /> “On your knees!”<br /> <br /> “What?” I said.<br /> <br /> “Beg to me on your knees, you whore’s son!”<br /> <br /> Those words burned. Ever since they had found out that my mother worked nights, they kept calling her a whore and a tart. Had I been me on my own, I would have struck at Philip and to hell with what they did to me – but I was not just responsible for me now. I had promised Jason. Burying what little self-esteem I had left deep inside, I got down on one knee.<br /> <br /> “Lower!” shouted Philip, and with well-rehearsed precision, a boot from one of his henchmen in the middle of my back threw me to the floor; smacking my face into the concrete floor. My lip was bleeding, and I was stunned.<br /> <br /> “G...give him back the plane. Please.........” I cried.<br /> <br /> “Lick my boots, you son of a bitch!” he replied.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you.....” I whispered. But then I heard the creak of plastic, and as if on cue – another whimper from Jason. I turned my head to look towards the door. I think Jason was more worried by my condition than by his plane, but I had promised him. I smiled softly at him. I did not want him to see me like this, but he wouldn’t leave me either. I moved my head towards Philip’s mud covered shoes. Shutting my eyes, I began to lick the putrid mud from them. <br /> <br /> “Swallow!” ordered Philip. How I so wanted to strike back, but I couldn’t. I swallowed!<br /> <br /> “Now bark like a dog!”<br /> <br /> “W...w....what?” I coughed<br /> <br /> “Bark!”<br /> <br /> Tears began to fill my eyes. I could not let that pass. I wanted to have my revenge on Philip, once my promise had been kept. Trying fairly unsuccessfully to hold back my tears and the nausea of the mud in my stomach, I began to growl in my throat.<br /> <br /> “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”<br /> <br /> “That’s better,” smirked Philip, “Get him!”<br /> <br /> With what I assume had been their plan all along, all of them swarmed around me. Kicking me in the stomach and the ribs. Philip just watched, smirking. Then they pinned down my arms and legs. I just managed to twist my head painfully towards Jason, and shout, “Run!”<br /> <br /> That was the last thing I remember. I awoke in hospital with three broken ribs, concussion and too many cuts and bruises to recall. Thankfully, in his eagerness to attack me, Philip had actually dropped Jason’s plane undamaged. Before running away to get help, Jason, with the impeccable priorities of an eight year old, had picked up that bloody plane first. My promise had been kept. I had got broken instead.<br /> <br /> Was this the end of things? No. Philip and two of his accomplices, Leo and Paul, had been suspended by the teacher who had eventually found me, lying unconscious on the cloakroom floor. Their suspension was to prove nearly fatal for me.<br /> <br /> I went back to school after a week or so. I probably should have waited longer, but I didn’t want to leave Jason there alone. Before, they just used to pick on him to get to me, but now he was becoming a target in his own right. It was with some amazing irony that in our school’s passion play, I was cast as Jesus, because of my blond hair. (Why Jesus’ tend to be blond at school when he was Jewish I still haven’t quite understood). Philip and his gang were Romans. When I was hoisted onto the cross, with only a tatty loincloth and crown of thorns to protect my modesty – I had to mutter the words “Forgive them for they do not know what they do!” I even smiled to myself, thinking that they knew exactly what they were doing. They couldn’t even resist jabbing the wooden spear into my side with more force than was necessary at the climax of the play.<br /> <br /> It was about a week after I returned that I was attacked again. I was walking home alone from school. Jason was staying at one of his friend’s houses. I had to pass a wooded coppice. It was still quite wintry, and it was dark. I had almost passed the wood when a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the bushes. This was probably the most terrifying experience of my life. I thought I was about to be raped. My arms were pulled tightly behind me, so much so that I could feel my shoulder blades pressing on my spine.<br /> <br /> “Stop it, you’re hurting me!” I cried, which with hindsight was probably the worst thing to say as that was exactly what they wanted to do. They pushed down on my neck, forcing my head into the ground. I was then spun around onto my back, and a hand clasped around my throat. In the twilight I could just about distinguish three figures.<br /> <br /> “Do you know what we do to little snitches? We cut them up!” hissed the man holding me down. I recognised the voice. It was Philip’s older brother, and I assumed his brother’s army buddies. The brother must have been at least nineteen, and against the three of them I had no means of fighting back.<br /> <br /> “Please don’t hurt me” I cried.<br /> <br /> “It’s too late for that. You’re going to die!” replied the silhouetted figure. From his pocket, I saw him pull out a large kitchen knife. The blade flashed in the moonlight. Agonising slowly, he brought it to rest on my face.<br /> <br /> “Hey, shall we cut him a new mouth first?” taunted the brother. He stroked my cheeks and chin with the point of the knife. It almost tickled, but I wasn’t laughing.<br /> <br /> “Nah,” replied one of his friends. “Just kill the bastard and we can go home”. I froze at those words. It is true that your whole life does flash before you. Mainly in a way of bitter-sweet memories. You think of the decisions you could have made differently, and that you will never make anymore. Philip’s brother raised the knife above my chest. I knew I was about to die. In a strange way, I almost felt like shouting for them to get on with it, rather than taunt me first. Then I thought of my Mother, and Jason. I couldn’t leave them. Then in an instant I saw the blade flash downwards. I shut my eyes, and probably squealed like a baby. <br /> <br /> “Just kill me quick” I thought. Thud! The knife plunged into the mud next to me. Laughing cruelly, the three men just walked off into the night. Rather than killing me, it was far more sporting to leave me living with this memory. I lay there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Shaking and crying – I got to my feet, and stumbled the rest of my way home. The house was empty and dark. I opened the door, walked in, pushing the door behind me as I went. I stood momentarily in the dark hall, then after throwing my bag across the room I collapsed onto the carpet – screaming, crying and kicking the floor. Once I had got all the fear, pain and relief out of my system, I just laid there all night, gazing at the door in silence. My Mum found me in the morning. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I just said that I was picked on at school again, saving her the true details.<br /> <br /> By now I was an emotional wreck. The only highlight was I had met a girl. Sarah hung around our local shop where her Mum worked, and we had been talking on and off for a few weeks. She finally agreed to go to the cinema with me. Alas, nemesis was not far away. Because of my mood swings and bruises, my school had informed the social services in the belief that my mother had been neglectful. I protested and said it was bullying at the school – but the headmaster was a close friend with the social services director – both being members of the local Masonic Lodge. They decided that I should be taken into care!<br /> <br /> With this threat hanging over me, Sarah and I went to the seaside for a picnic to take my mind off it. We climbed up a hill to see the view. We eventually got to the top, and the view was great – in front of us was the sea and behind were miles and miles of beautiful hills, bathed in late afternoon sunlight. It is quite probably the most beautiful site I have ever scene. I was, at this period, in terrible mess. I barely remember much from this time. I was mixed up, depressed, drinking alcohol under-age, and was even suicidal. Sitting on this hill, gazing over the lovely scenery – it was all too much for me. Silent tears poured down my face.<br /> <br /> <br /> Soon after this time, I was taken into care, sent to Ravenstower Young Persons’ Institute in Clayton. Jason was now left to fend for himself. My first day at the Institute arrived and I hurriedly tried to packed what few possessions I could into a suitcase to take with me. I said a sad farewell to my Mother and Jason, then walked to the bus stop. Little did we know that they would never see me again. Sarah had promised to visit me as often as possible. Clayton was only 15 miles from where she lived and bus was direct.<br /> I looked out of the bus window at the world flashing by, wondering what sort of life the rest of the world was living. I supposed that some were happy, while some were sad. There were probably many sad people out there, more miserable than me, perhaps? <br /> I eventually reached our destination. There behind impressive iron gates was the main building – even though it was only a few years old, and built in an impressive location near the beach – it still had a bleak deadness to it. Impossible to describe exactly, just a feeling. It was also likely to be my home until I became an adult. Apparently it had been built on waste land by the council on the site of an old manor house, derelict and burnt to the ground a decade before. Not a good omen.<br /> <br /> I entered the lobby and rang the bell. A tall and very thin woman slid out of an office at the far end of the corridor and glided towards me with a pair of old-fashioned pinching spectacles perched precariously on the end of her hawk-like nose.<br /> <br /> &quot;What is your name boy?&quot; squawked the Hawk Lady.<br /> <br /> &quot;Curtis... Curtis Brookes.&quot; I replied nervously. <br /> <br /> &quot;Ah yes, young Brookes. We've been expecting you. Come with me and I will introduce you to the department head. Hurry up! Can't stand here all day!&quot; and with that she grabbed my arm and pulled me along the passage towards a door at the far end. She rapped on the door, and I heard a muffled voice call out.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's there?&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;It's Miss Gutteridge. I have the new boy here - Curtis Brookes. Can we come in?&quot;.<br /> There was a grunt from behind the door, and slowly the Hawk Lady pushed it open to reveal a dark office that stank of musty old cigars. From behind a desk, piled high in papers peered a wizened old man, who spoke in the wheezing voice of a heavy smoker.<br /> <br /> &quot;What have we here? He's a fine young specimen. He'll be useful. Come closer boy.&quot; <br /> <br /> As I approached his desk, I could see the hunched figure more clearly. I thought he looked more like an ape than a man. <br /> <br /> “Hmmm.. this boy has potential. I’m glad he has come to our august institution. We will make a man of him!” exclaimed the man as he reached across his desk and patted me on the shoulder. <br /> &quot;Shall I show Brookes to his dorm now?&quot; asked the Hawk Lady.<br /> <br /> &quot;Yes, yes all right then!&quot; snapped the headmaster, who then turned to me, staring straight into my eyes, and spoke quietly. <br /> <br /> &quot;I welcome you to the Ravenstower Institution and I hope you will fit in here young Brookes. This is a proud establishment and I don't appreciate those boys who don't join in and who don't do as they are told. We have had pupils here who thought that life was one long game, but they have lived to regret that now, poor souls.&quot; <br /> <br /> As he finished he looked mournfully out of the window towards the large woods that backed onto the school's grounds. I felt my heart thump in my throat and I longed to leave that creepy office. Thankfully, the Hawk Lady then led me out and back down the corridor. <br /> I was dragged along winding stair cases and dark passages until finally we arrived at my dormitory. Inside were rows of beds; more reminiscent of a barrack block than a school. <br /> &quot;Here is your dorm. You can have that bed by the window. I'm afraid you've missed dinner and it's lights out at nine!&quot; and with that the Hawk Lady promptly left, slamming the door behind her. The room was full of eyes, all of which were staring directly at me. For nearly a minute no one said anything until the silence was finally broken when one of the boys spoke.<br /> &quot;Whoever you are, you need to know the rules of this dorm. My name's Wesley, and this is my dorm. Everyone here does what I say, and that includes you!&quot; <br /> <br /> I didn't know what to say in reply, so I just shrugged my shoulders and walked briskly towards my bed. This was a huge mistake, as my lack of subservience to that adolescent despot was too much for his inflated ego to handle and I suddenly found myself under a scrum of his loyal cronies. My bag was pulled from me, and its contents poured all over the floor, whereupon everyone stole what they thought might be of some value. I was stopped from getting it back when the two tallest gang members grabbed my arms and forced me against the wall. The ring leader, Wesley, then began to repeatedly punch me in the stomach and face. I guess it was my lot in life to be bullied. After a few minutes Wesley grunted. <br /> <br /> &quot;I hope you've learnt your lesson!&quot;, and with that I was dropped on the ground.<br /> <br /> I managed to crawl over and gather up what were left of my scattered belongings. I felt like crying, but I knew I dared not. That would only bring about another drubbing; but I cried inside. I had cried all my life - inside!<br /> <br /> That was it for that day, and soon it was time to go to sleep. I climbed into my bed, from where I could see the large woods through the window, with the evening sun glistening on the sea beyond. I thought that it must be very spooky out there at night - the sort of place that Wesley and the Headmaster would be well suited. A place for demons, goblins and monsters.<br /> I thought to myself that Wesley must be deranged in some way to have such a sadistic personality problem, much like Philip Miles had been – but I was to discover a whole new depth of pain at Wesley’s hand. It wasn't so much that he was a bully or a gang leader, but it was the way his eyes lit up when he was inflicting pain. When my lip was bleeding following his last punch, he seemed to overflow with ecstasy. It was only his thugs who persuaded him that I had been hurt enough, as further injuries would arouse the suspicions of the staff. It was something about Wesley's eyes that stuck in my mind. They seemed hollow and cold. The Headmaster had the same sort of sunken eyes. I decided to keep my distance from Wesley and the Headmaster from now on.<br /> <br /> Things eased off slightly for the next few days, but Wesley still held sway in my dorm, and apparently in some of the other dorms as well. He somehow had the ability to frighten the other boys into doing what he wanted. He was the leader of the pack, the alpha male. He wasn't especially tall or stocky. He was only my age, and had thick brown hair. His only distinguishing features were his eyes. They were horrible, and they had a manner of cold hardness that infected the other boys as if he could hypnotise them. I hated Wesley. He was evil. He was a beast!<br /> <br /> It was a bright, autumn day. The morning lessons had just finished and we had an hour-long lunch break before the afternoon session. Whilst the other boys were playing football over on the playground, I was walking alone on the field near the dark woods. We had been told not to go anywhere near there under any circumstances, even during Games lessons when a teacher was present! <br /> <br /> This edict was too much for any self-respecting teenage boy to endure. When the teacher on duty wasn't looking, I managed to sneak up to the edge of the woods and peer through the trees. I could just make out a six foot high wooden fence about hundred yards away. Behind it were even more trees, eventually leading into open moorlands up Clayton Hill to the left – and the sea to the right. There was nothing else to do that lunch time, so when no one was looking I managed to sneak out to have a look around. <br /> <br /> I had always lived in towns before, so the experience of the woods was new for me. All the new smells and noises were fascinating. Even the beams of sunlight dancing through the yellow leaves were magic. I know that may sound rather over the top somewhat, but it really was a terrific new experience for me. I didn't want to leave, I felt at home there - far more than in my old home. It didn't feel at all scary during the day, unlike at night. <br /> <br /> After about ten minutes of wandering aimlessly around daydreaming, I heard the sound of crunching twigs. I turned around, and saw a crouched figure loping along about twenty feet in front of me. It looked like the accursed Wesley, and he appeared to be in a hurry, so I bounded after him, sure that he was up to no good as usual.<br /> <br /> I tried to keep up with him but he disappeared behind a small clump of trees. When I reached the bushes there was no sign of him. I was sure that he had spotted me and had doubled back. I pondered what I should do, and decided to have it just one last look. Was that him rustling that nearby bush? As I bounded over to investigate I tripped over a stump and cut my hand on a sharp stone. Blood poured from the surprisingly deep wound. I thought that it might get infected so I reluctantly left my new found paradise and wandered back to the cloakroom to wash my hands. <br /> <br /> What had Wesley been doing in the woods? Perhaps he had a hide-out there where he stashed fags or alcohol he had stolen from the mentor and teacher's common room. Nothing would have surprised me. He was capable of anything! <br /> <br /> I washed the clotted blood and mud from my hands. My hand still hurt, and wouldn't stop bleeding. I bound it in a handkerchief, and shoved it in my pocket. The lunch break had just finished, and my next lesson was about to start. Being right handed I could keep my cut left hand concealed under the desk, away from the teacher's gaze. By doing this I managed to get through the last two lessons of the day without it being noticed, and it was time to go back to the dorms for the evening.<br /> <br /> Wesley was there with his gang of thugs, but they seemed not to notice me. They were discussing something between themselves, something that seemed to make them quite excited. Wesley didn't even mention his encounter with me in the woods. Perhaps he hadn't seen me? Perhaps it hadn't been him out there at all? <br /> <br /> I scribbled down my homework, and then read a book for about an hour or two before going to bed. My hand had slightly healed, but a thin trickle of blood still seeped from the wound. My once white handkerchief was now sodden with blood, so I hid it under the bed. From biology I knew that saliva could make blood clot, so I sucked my hand hoping that it would dry up before I fell asleep. If I got blood on my bedclothes then the teasing about it being my &quot;time of the month&quot; and &quot;why didn't I wear women's panties?&quot; would be insufferable. <br /> <br /> I had never tasted blood in this quantity before. Sure I have had cut lips and the like, but this was a constant flow. I kept on sucking and licking it. It was warm and sweet. I enjoyed it. To my surprise and even shock, I found myself biting my hand to keep the wound open. I almost felt a feeling of disappointment when it finally healed up around midnight. By now my mouth was ruby red, and I rather fancied myself as Dracula or Nosferatu. If I was a true vampire then I could really scare Wesley. He would probably wet himself or better, and then everyone would laugh at him. His authority would be left in tatters. I could have my revenge.<br /> My normal school day consisted off standard lessons of the main curriculum, games lessons and also what were termed corrective measures. This was primarily being sat on the floor in a large empty room and being shown videos on a projection screen about the evils of anit-social behaviour, drugs, alcohol, sex - you name it, it was there. Why we were subjected to chastisement when many of us were not delinquents but simply victims of others aggression seemed to escape the minds of the power that be, but I soon discovered a darker methodology at work there.<br /> <br /> I was convinced that the educational videos held subliminal messages, too fast to read, but occasionally were glimpsed. These sessions were always immediately preceded by lunch and proceeded by physical education. Lunch was always a revolting, Dickensian slop. Apparently it was packed full of vitamins and other healthy additives. I suspected this was just the tip of iceberg.<br /> <br /> Games lessons normally revolved around punishing circuit training and body building. No team sports. I preferred the indoor lessons, at least we were out of the damp air and all the mosquitoes. Some boys had been bitten raw by them, living in the marshy land between Ravenstower and the sea.<br /> <br /> The next few days passed without serious incident, except that Wesley continued to taunt me. He also seemed hyped up about something else. He would sit up in bed at night just looking out of the window. I think I was the only one who noticed this. Everyone else was usually asleep. Only Wesley and I couldn't sleep properly. Our beds both faced the window and the bright moonlight streamed in, casting long shadows and highlighting every crack in the wall. There were no curtains, not since previous pupils had set fire to them. Wesley never looked at me, but only out of the window, so I don't think he knew that I was watching him. But I was, every night, planning my revenge. <br /> <br /> How I hated him! He was a tyrant. Kicking chairs over and smashing cups. He even urinated over me once when we were both in the lavatory. It was also him who had ended up with most of my stolen most of my possessions on the first day, and there was no way I could get them back. But I would get him and he was going to be very sorry. <br /> <br /> The following night, Wesley seemed especially restless. He sat for a couple of hours, even after lights out, not paying attention to anyone. But when everyone else was asleep, he quietly climbed out of bed, still fully dressed, and opened the window. Using the old drainpipe that ran next to our dorm's wall, he managed to climb to the ground and ran of into the night. <br /> Once I had heard him drop to the ground, I crept out of bed and looked out of the window to see where he was going. The moon was bright, almost full, so it was not too difficult to make out his lumbering shape heading towards the woods. <br /> <br /> I thought to myself that he must be heading for his shack, to get a quick fix of alcohol, wacky baccy or porn. Whatever it was, it wasn't my problem. I climbed back into bed, and wondered why anyone would willingly go into the woods at night. During the daylight was fine, but at night - who knows what was out there? I settled back into bed, and soon was asleep.<br /> <br /> The next day, a strange procession creaked its way into town. At least ten assorted caravans and trucks, some mechanised, some horse-drawn rambled their way along. I peered out of the dorm window through the rain and gloom at the faded signs on the sides of the vehicles and his heart thumped in excitement. The circus had come to town! It was Saturday, and we were allowed a limited freedom to venture into town. I was not going to miss this opportunity. <br /> <br /> The caravans arrived at the empty field at the top end of town, on a slight rise overlooking the bay and the town itself. Clayton was the epitome of a small town at the end of a railway line, except that even trains stopped going there now. The town was drab and tired, nestled between the sea and the towering Claw Hill behind. Most of the buildings were in poor repair and half the shops had closed since the last factory went bust in the recent economic recession and unemployment was high. The circus would be a welcome distraction. I signed out from the dorm register and went to the public phone box at the end of the lane.<br /> <br /> “Hi Curtis” said Sarah, picking up the phone.<br /> <br /> “Hi Honey” I replied “The circus is in Clayton, just down the road from me. Want to go?”<br /> <br /> “No thanks. I’m against them, they are cruel to their animals. They should be banned!”<br /> <br /> “Oh no, it’s a people only circus. I asked one of the people as they were setting up camp. He reassured me that they no animals at all, and their show was just human performers and volunteers from the audience.” I stated.<br /> <br /> “Still sounds a bit corny. Can we go to the cinema afterwards then?” asked Sarah.<br /> <br /> “If you want…” I replied in resignation. “Can I ring Jason and ask him to come…?”<br /> <br /> “NO! Why do you always have to try and take your kid brother with us? You know what they say, two’s company, three is….” She said sternly.<br /> <br /> “Ok, ok, I just feel responsible for him since Dad left. Meet you at 6.30. Luv ya.” And I replaced the receiver.<br /> <br /> That afternoon, Sarah arrived on the bus and we wandered down to the circus field. The area was packed. Most of Clayton seemed to be there, jostling about to look at the attractions. It wasn’t just the main tent to see, but a number of caravan and stalls. It really looked like some Victorian freak show; but in the 21st century such things were the preserve of Hollywood Horror. The circus fair reflected Clayton very well. It was shabby and crumbling. Paint peeled off the caravans and most of the staff looked as if they needed a shave and a bath, and that was just the women!<br /> <br /> “What happened to your hand?” said Sarah, concerned, pointing to my bandage.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I just cut it during games.” I said nonchalantly. <br /> <br /> We walked over to one of the stalls, where a small crowd was gathering. It was a new take on the coconut throwing game, but instead of coconuts there were rubber skulls on the spikes. <br /> <br /> “A bit weird.” I thought.<br /> <br /> Then my heart skipped a beat. Three of Wesley’s cronies, dressed in hooded tops and acting the fools, turned up at the same stall. They started chucking the wooden balls at the skulls. After repeated strikes, the skulls still refused to shift. Angrily, they complained to the stall holder.<br /> <br /> “This is fixed. Those bloody things are glued.”<br /> <br /> “No sir, this is a fair game” replied the stall holder as he effortlessly lifted each skull to show there was no glue. “perhaps you would care to discuss this with the manager”.<br /> <br /> “Nah, crummy fair anyway.” Replied the youth and walked off. However, the stall holder called after him. <br /> <br /> “Sir, we don’t want any bad feelings here. If you see the manager I’m sure he will give you some free tickets for the circus.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, why not!” replied the youth, and he and his companions followed the stall holder behind the tent into one of the caravans. After only a few seconds, the stall holder re-emerged smiling. The youths obviously were still inside, discussing things with the manager.<br /> <br /> “Curtis, I bet you could win a prize.” flattered Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Three balls please.” I said to the stall holder, handing him the requisite fee.<br /> <br /> “Thank you sir!”<br /> <br /> I took aim, and threw the balls in rapid succession. The first missed, the second struck the base but the third connected sweetly and the skull wobbled, teetered for a moment and then fell to the ground.<br /> <br /> “Well done sir. Here’s your prize.”<br /> <br /> He handed me a large cuddly toy gorilla, which I promptly thrust to Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Happy now?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Oh yes,” she replied “and he looks just like you.”<br /> <br /> We continued to look around the fair and circus. The acrobatic display was impressive, but the clowns were more sinister than funny. The Sun was setting over the brow of Clayton Hill (or Claw Hill as the locals called it) casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse of Claw Hill had blighted the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend; but this was far from the truth.<br /> It was evening, and I was walking back to Ravenstower from the bus stop, having seen Sarah safely on to the bus. Curfew was 9pm, so I had to walk briskly. The walk back took me across the edge of the fields at the foot of Claw Hill. Creepy though this route was, I was far less bothered by ancient legends than by the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, which my alternative route would have taken me past. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and I walked confidently albeit briskly. The legend of the Evil Gnome of Claw Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally see him, you will wish you staid at home… On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> This was the creepy story was about the infamous ‘Evil Gnome’ – the ghost of Orak, a deformed hermit who’s ghost had terrorised Clayton after he had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his ‘execution’, the ghost on Claw Hill started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Any adults caught on Claw Hill after dark were simply driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken. I didn’t believe the stories, but thought it would make a good movie one day.<br /> <br /> The twigs cracked under my trainers as I continued on. I was now at the highest point of the path on Claw Hill slopes, and it was thickly wooded, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. There was rustling in the undergrowth to my left. It sounded like the type of noise made by a poorly paid horror movie sound technician to imitate some sort of demon waiting to pounce. I was unmoved, assuming it was a badger or something equally innocent. I did quicken my pace however. I was nearing the light again, and soon the lights of the village would guide me back.<br /> <br /> “Ouch!” I cried.<br /> <br /> Something small and sharp struck me in the neck. It felt like a wasp sting, but at night? I reached up, and pulled a small thorn from my skin. It was impossible to make out clearly what it was in the dark, so I flicked it away and rubbed my neck. There was small lump where the thorn had pierced the flesh, but no significant pain. <br /> <br /> “Bloody mosquitoes” I moaned, and trotted on.<br /> <br /> The next morning, I overslept until mid-morning – feeling quite lethargic. Fortunately it was Sunday, but for me it was unusual. The dorm was empty. I crawled out of bed and wandered into the washroom. My jaw dropped when I looked into the mirror. The lump on my neck had turned black and was now about two inches in diameter. It was also numb to the touch. After splashing my face, I raced back to his room and dressed. My hand had also started bleeding again, which didn't help. I was starting to think that I was more of a stigmatic than a vampire. <br /> <br /> When I got downstairs, I could hear the buzz of excited discussion. Apparently the three hooded boys who I had seen at the circus had not come back last night – and gone on the run. The police had been informed but so far they had eluded capture. Wesley was already in the dining room, grinning from ear to ear, and looking straight at me. I tried to ignore him, and sat down in a corner. I hadn't any friends to talk to, but I didn't care. They were all scum like Wesley! For a change, Wesley said and did nothing to me for the whole day - until early that evening. <br /> <br /> At dinner time, I was sitting in the corner on my own again, gulping down my soup, when Wesley stood up and walked straight up to my table without any provocation. I tried to ignore him, but he picked up my glass and poured the contents into my soup. I sprang out of my chair to punch him, but he just pushed me back down. There were no teachers in the hall, and everyone else were too scared of Wesley and his cronies to call out. Wesley then leaned down towards me and whispered in my ear. <br /> <br /> &quot;I will make you wish that you had never been born!&quot; and he raised his hand and brought it down on my face, slashing my cheek with his fingernails. He drew blood and I yelped in pain. He then stood up, smiled, turned on his heels and walked calmly back to his table. The room was silent! I was shaken, but said nothing. I ran to the toilet, so that they wouldn't see me cry... <br /> How could my life get any worse? But my most shameful experience still lay in store. Confined with Wesley and all in a dormitory, with no means of escape – was beyond terror. Previously I had only been beaten, now I was to be tortured. <br /> <br /> It was after dinner, and all the teachers were on the terrace smoking and drinking. So much for being role models? I was left alone in my dorm with my tormentors. On the stroke of eight, when they knew the teachers’ movement patterns, virtually the whole dorm of hormone pumped teenage boys encircled my bed. I was sitting there, trying to ignore them. <br /> <br /> Without a word, Wesley’s usual cronies rushed forward and pulled me onto the floor. Someone yanked off my shoes, whilst numerous hands grabbed my t-shirt and forcibly ripped it off me in pieces. I was dragged to one of the empty bunks, and my wrists and ankles were tied with parcel tape to the bedposts, impossible to break. Wesley strode forward, and grabbing my hair – yanked my head back, straining me to look up at him. Without saying a word, he spat in my face, and then let go. He then produced a broom handle that had been hidden behind one of the bunks. Putting it behind my back, he said coldly, “Whore boy is going to get buggered.” and he forced the end of the broom handle into the seat of my jeans. The pain grew as my jeans began to push in and split. I could not believe what was happening. I begged the other boys to help – but they all stood there; apparently enjoying the show. Just as the unthinkable was about to happen, Wesley pulled the broom back out. Walking around to look me in the face, he muttered:<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I did not reply. How did he know about my mother working nights? It was so unfair, all over again.<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> Still I didn’t reply. Then, out of his jacket pocket, he produced a petrol cigarette lighter. Igniting it, he moved it towards my face. For the third time, he said <br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I spat back in his face and shouted “Your mother is a fucking whore!” <br /> <br /> Suddenly, he thrust the flame under my left arm. I screamed and squirmed as my skin blistered. The rest of boys I think were becoming unnerved by now. He had gone beyond the pale. Wesley was mad. Whilst still holding the flame under my arm, he said coldly and calmly “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> The pain was intense, even nauseous. I could not take it any more. Sobbing, I whimpered “My mother is a fucking whore....” <br /> <br /> I still feel ashamed for giving in, but what else could I do? I was eventually cut free by the guilty faced crowd. Of course I went to the teachers. The huge blistered burn on my arm and my torn clothing was proof enough but they still did nothing. It was useless, I had to take matters into my own hands!<br /> <br /> I had planned what my revenge would be. I decided that I would follow Wesley into the woods one night, and discover what he was up to. I would then tell the Headmaster and the Hawk Lady, and hopefully he would be expelled, and be out of my life forever! <br /> <br /> It was late, and the warden called for lights out. I pretended to be already asleep, but I was still dressed, in preparation for my confrontation with Wesley in the woods. <br /> At about quarter to midnight, Wesley slowly clambered out of his bed, walked to the window, and was soon away down the drain pipe. Once he was gone, I got up and followed him. It was a full moon tonight, so I could easily find my way down to ground. I was worried about leaving blood stains on the whitewashed walls from my bandaged hand. It still hadn't healed dammit! <br /> <br /> Gingerly, I picked my way across the sports field, following Wesley towards the woods. It wasn't long before I was close to him. He had stopped in a clearing a few yards into the woods, and was bathed in moonlight. I crouched down and watched to see what he would do. Clumsily, I trod on a twig and made the loudest 'quiet' sound I had ever heard. Wesley spun round. <br /> “Who’s there?” he cried, in a hoarse voice that I almost didn’t recognise. I didn’t reply, so he walked deeper into the woods. I followed! <br /> <br /> My eagerness out did me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was crashing through the undergrowth, and straight into Wesley, who had stopped walking. He jumped in fright, and then looked to see what had hit him. When he saw it was me, his eyes burned with rage and fear. <br /> “Curtis! Why are you...[Cough]...out here?” <br /> <br /> “Following you. Seeing what you’re up to.” I replied. I could see that Wesley looked in pain, and his voice was definitely different - as if he had a sore throat. <br /> <br /> “So...you’re not here because of the Urge?” wheezed Wesley. <br /> “What urge? What are you talking about?” <br /> <br /> “Haven’t you noticed? Haven’t you felt strange sensations you’ve never felt before? [Cough] I was like you when I first arrived here, but now look at me. I’m an animal - disliked by everyone!” <br /> <br /> This wasn’t the Wesley I knew and hated. He was different; frightened! <br /> <br /> “It.. it must be the headmaster. I’m sure he’s put something in the [Cough] water, or our food, or even the air - to change us! First it’s just a feeling of restlessness... but then the urge builds and builds. [Cough] I often come out here to try and ease the pain. It sometimes works but not tonight! I tried to tell my parents, but they just laughed. No one’s parents believe them either. Their too busy to care anyway. Other boys have disappeared before now, and no one’s said anything! Didn’t you hear about them at the circus? They are all in on it. Perhaps the govern..[Cough]..ment is involved.” <br /> <br /> “What planet are you on?” I replied coolly, “You’re making this up.” <br /> <br /> “I’m not!” roared Wesley, but as the words slipped out of his mouth, he fell to the ground and started to shake violently. <br /> <br /> “Stop play acting” I said, “You’re not impressing anyone!” <br /> <br /> My manner altered upon looking at the crouching figure. I could see that something was wrong, different. Wesley was changing, growing! I stared in horror. All sense of reality was draining from my mind. After a minute or so, what had once been a boy was now something quite different. Something terrible!<br /> <br /> I began to run, as the creature that had once been Wesley sniffed the air. Was it the blood from my hand that was attracting it. The scratches on my face, the lump on my neck and blister on my arm all burned and itched terribly. <br /> <br /> A few seconds later the beast gave chase, running faster than I could ever hope to match. At that time I had no idea of what I had just seen, but I knew that it was after my blood. <br /> Just as I thought I couldn’t run any further, I noticed a sharp branch lying on the ground. Thinking it could be a possible weapon, I picked it up and prepared to face my pursuer. Moments later the creature burst out of the undergrowth, and leapt straight at me. I raised the stick – by sheer luck striking the beast in the side of the neck. Its own momentum jerked the stick out of my hands, ripping the wound wide open.<br /> <br /> The creature momentarily roared in pain and then fell down dead. I also dropped to my knees, trying to catch my breath. As I looked across at the creature, I could see that it was much larger than a man, and covered in hair? No, fur! Its ghastly features twisted further by its violent death. There is only one description I can use for it - a werewolf! <br /> <br /> As I looked on, I could see it mutating slowly, back into the familiar form of Wesley, only naked, bloody and dead. I have to admit now that I was terrified.<br /> <br /> The whole scene was bathed in moonlight, and I suddenly felt wonderful. Even better than during my first saunter into the woods. I raised my head, tears pouring from my eyes, arched my back and gave out a loud cry of joy, totally oblivious to anyone who might hear me. <br /> <br /> I looked down again, and saw the crumpled shape of Wesley, my fallen opponent; my prey, helpless infront of me. I sensed the blood and longed for its sweet taste on my lips. However, I suddenly became aware of approaching footsteps. Someone must have heard us fighting, and had come to investigate. Then from behind a tree, a figure appeared. It was the headmaster; he must have followed us out. <br /> <br /> “Brookes - is that you? I never expected one of our newest students to show such early promise!” he said in a jovial tone, but when he saw the fallen figure at my feet his voice became icy. <br /> <br /> “You killed it! You killed it!” he screamed, “My boy - you killed my boy. All my hard work has gone to waste.” <br /> <br /> I was horrified by his words. Could Wesley have been right all the time? Was the headmaster really behind the strange sensations that we had been experiencing - turning the boys into bullies and then beasts? Was he using the cover of a care home to perfect his vile experiments on boys who would not be missed? <br /> <br /> “Stay where you are Brookes! By the process of natural selection, you have proved yourself to be a worthy successor.” <br /> <br /> I didn't really hear his words, they didn't interest me anymore. I turned back to look at Wesley lying on the ground. Out of the side of his torn neck protruded the stick that had saved my life. The warm, sticky blood seeped from the wound, and trickled into the mud. How I so wanted to taste it, to be one with it - the ecstasy that it would give me! <br /> <br /> I could now feel the urge growing inside me. I had never felt like this before. It was a strange feeling, but I wasn’t sure for what. Blood? Hatred? Sex? Freedom? Revenge? I just couldn't be certain. <br /> <br /> The headmaster had now been joined by some teachers. He had started laughing, and beckoning me to come to him. How dare he! He was evil, and had to be stopped. Who knows what he had planned for me? <br /> <br /> I ran towards him, arms out stretched. He must have thought I was submitting - but at the last moment I sprang in the air, landing upon him and knocking him over. Before I knew what I was doing, I had thumped my fist into his throat. I kept doing it until I heard his neck crack. He groaned for a moment, and then lay still. He had deserved it - he was a monster! I was simply the avenging angel. <br /> <br /> I knew that I must get away from there; from the scene of my revenge, or otherwise I would be punished! I had been punished enough! I had been punished everyday since my parents divorced! I was never going through that again. <br /> <br /> With animal instinct I turned on my heels and fled towards the nearby moors. I ran and ran, never looking back. Soon I was deep in the woods, and the teachers had lost sight of me. I crouched behind a small bush and growled quietly to myself. <br /> <br /> I wasn't Curtis Brookes any more. I never wanted to be that puny boy ever again. His existence had crushed my true being and I wanted out! I longed to rid myself of his legacy forever! I could see that the humans had detected my position and were running towards where I was hiding. I had to flee, and in one bound I had cleared the wooden fence that marked the border with the moors and the wilderness beyond. Now I was free of humanity and its many cruelties. I was free!<br /> <br /> It was very, very dark. Only the strange orange moon cast any light upon my surroundings. In front of me I could see what looked like a dense, gloomy forest – stretching away into the infinite distance, totally obliterating the horizon beyond. On all sides, its mass of twisted branches and knotted trunks wreaked of foreboding and unhappiness. Yet, for some deep unknown reason, I felt drawn towards it; compelled by my own subconscious! The forest looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it exactly. It was as if I saw that forest every day, but I was sure I had never been there before.<br /> <br /> “You are confused my child.” came a calm voice from behind me.<br /> <br /> I spun around to see a small, ugly dwarf – dressed in black, with a strange, pale face. His eyes were red and slanted, and his teeth pointed.<br /> <br /> “W.....who are you?” I stammered, feeling a little scared. <br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m nobody Curtis. A bit like you really. Just a figment of a fantastic imagination.” replied the strange dwarf menacingly.<br /> <br /> “What?” I asked. <br /> <br /> “You’ll understand in time – my boy. You have been selected and you have a task to perform.”<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone.” I cried, beginning to tentatively step backwards. <br /> <br /> “Don’t worry Curtis. You’ll understand in time.” repeated the demonic dwarf. “Just walk deeper into the forest. That’s all.”<br /> <br /> My clothes suddenly began to feel too tight. My jeans choked my legs as if they were swelling, but I tried to ignore the discomfort.<br /> <br /> “Go on, tell me more.” I said to the old dwarf. <br /> <br /> “First you must eat.” Replied the old man, and threw a chunk of raw meat to me. Without hesitation, I began to bite into the dripping flesh. It made my stomach gurgle and bloat. I pulled up my sweatshirt and gasped. The pale skin on my stomach was stretched and translucent. Underneath, my muscles rippled and writhed. Huge dark veins pulsed and slithered visibly below the surface. I felt sick. It was as if my torso resembled a giant maggot. My stomach bulged against my belt and jeans, dilating with every heartbeat. I tucked my t-shirt back into my jeans and continued to eat.<br /> <br /> My feet really ached. I sat down on a tree stump and pulled off my shoes and socks. Rubbing my feet, they felt swollen and numb. With great difficulty I pulled my socks and shoes back on and shook my head. I could not bring any words to my lips. I turned away from the dwarf’s blazing red eyes, to look once again at the dark forest. It was so terrifying, yet spellbindingly beautiful at the same time.<br /> <br /> “Go on Curtis. Go on.” spoke the red-eyed man softly.<br /> <br /> Hearing the words resonate through my skull - I began to tentatively step towards the forest, not noticing the brown sticky mud and knotted grass all around. It was only another few steps when I came to a stop. I had finally noticed the sticky mud on my shoes, but now my way was blocked by a wide pool, or was it a river, of oozing black mud. Although I felt no heat, the mud bubbled and spat like a volcanic vent. I looked around for the strange dwarf, but he was gone. Turning back, I looked across the mud towards the forest....... My forest, my home! This accursed river of mud, this restraint on my true being was blocking me, choking me, crushing me!<br /> I raised my foot from the bank, lifting it towards the oozing river. It was then that the grass around me grew quickly, spurting from the ground like tentacles, grabbing around my calf, pulling my leg back.<br /> <br /> “Nooo! I want to go!” I cried, snatching at the grassy vines. I continued to struggle until the vines snapped. Once broken, they faded away, and as they did – so did the sky behind me, leaving nothing but blackness. I had to go on! Letting out a deep, guttural roar – I dived into the mud. <br /> <br /> The mud was slightly warm after all. It soothed me, caressed me, held me. It flowed slowly inside my sodden clothes, and caressed my skin. I felt wonderful. Never before had I experienced love and tenderness on this level before. I didn’t want to leave. It was safe here. It was home now. I didn’t care that the mud was filling my mouth, my ears and my nostrils. I could still breath quite happily. The mud wouldn’t let me come to harm.<br /> Slowly, my senses faded in and out. I saw mud, then a forest, then a strange yet familiar room, and furniture, then I saw my mother, and Jason, then Sarah! But then just mud again. I felt sad. <br /> <br /> I realised that I was swimming. Swimming in the mud – towards the far bank. Towards the forest. My forest. My real home. Increasingly, the feelings I had for this muddy haven ebbed away. It was the forest I must get to – not this accursed brown slime. I continued to squirm and wriggle my way to the far side. <br /> <br /> I felt my body burn hot and cold. I felt strange tingling sensations up and down my arms and legs. I felt constrained by the things around me – pulling him back, squeezing me tight, reminding me of what I once was. Then in a flash – they were gone, and I was there! I had reached the far bank! <br /> <br /> I raised my muddy hand up to grabbed onto a branch that jutted out from the river bank. Hauling myself up and out of the mud, onto the grassy bank, I was sure that something felt different. In fact I felt quite strange. My perspective had altered. I smelt things, saw things, heard things that I had never experienced before. Also, my body felt funny – things bent in a strange way and my clothes pulled tightly around my arms and legs. I looked down, to see the mud covering my body begin to dissolve. Underneath, to my shock and sheer wonder – was a layer of shimmering, dark fur poking out of the collar and cuffs of my sweatshirt! Instinctively I pulled at my tight clothes. I was finally renouncing humanity with all its evils; and letting the Wilderness take me! Suddenly a terrible pain hit me and I fell to the ground. My shoulders broadened still further, huge muscles bulking up on my back and chest. My shoes became incredibly tight, then they exploded off my feet as they became clawed paws! I scratched the ground with them, enjoying the power they now possessed. The pressure was building in my jeans, the strong blue denim creaking as my body expanded inside. My massive growing thighs and buttocks were cramming my jeans like a second skin! <br /> <br /> I licked my lips in anticipation of what happening. The animal urge was growing in me, pulsing through my veins. Every heartbeat and every breath brought more growth, more fur, more muscle, more pressure, more pleasure! My expanding body was pulling my hooded blue sweatshirt snugly under my arms and around my chest. The collar started to choke me a bit. I tried to put my hands up to my collar to pull it wider to allow my neck room to grow, but my hands were already growing into stubby claws and I couldn’t get a good grip of the fabric. I settled back to all fours to await events as my body continued to swell like a balloon, the pressure and pain increasing with every breath. <br /> <br /> I could feel my clothes pull even tighter about me. How much longer would they hold out? My astonishing muscle growth then began to accelerate, causing the fabric of my clothes to groan in agony. The sweatshirt stitching under my arms began to give way very slowly stitch by stitch. Pop, pop, pop, pop. The ripping sound was like sweet music to my ears. My metamorphosis was beautiful and slow. New muscles bulged all over my expanding frame. The mighty growth was going too fast for the exhausted stitching to keep up and the cotton fabric itself splintered and exploded off my upper body. This latest surge of growth carried on down my body to my thighs and buttocks. With a slow, delicious cracking sound – my huge legs began to prise apart the blue denim of my jeans, inch by inch running down each leg. With a sudden boom, the back of the jeans burst open and they fell to the ground in a crumpled heap of rags.<br /> I roared in delight. Checking out the rest of my new body was equally wonderful. It was all there. Fangs, claws, fur – the works! I was at last the werewolf I had dreamed of. Exactly as I had dreamed it. Exactly! Well, not exactly - I think I may have been more were-gorilla than werewolf but who cared now. <br /> <br /> I fell forwards onto all fours, which now felt much more comfortable. My immense bulk cast a huge shadow in the moonlight over the oddly green grass around me. Raising my head towards the sky, I let out another roar – and loped off into the dark forest.<br /> <br /> After a while, I sniffed the air. There were strange sounds in the distance. I was unsure what they signified. They were not like the calls of any bird I knew. Loud cracks, like wood clattering against branches. Then distant cries. I dug my claws into the damp soil, and snarled. I didn’t like what I couldn’t understand – and I couldn’t understand strange noises. I padded deeper into the forest, fearful of what these things meant.<br /> <br /> I found himself in a clearing, bathed in moonlight. The strange sounds continued, getting closer, and closer. Out of the undergrowth loped a strange figure. It was larger than me, but similarly formed – arched back, fur and sharp claws. It bared its teeth, and snarled. Instinctively, I snarled back – and turned to face my assailant. Just then, another figure appeared, and another, and another, and another. Soon, I was totally surrounded by the pack. I spun around, trying to find an escape route – but all were blocked! They moved closer and closer, eyes fixed on me. I returned my gaze towards the original opponent, and prepared to strike.<br /> <br /> “Do not fear my child.” said the lead beast, “We are not your enemy.”<br /> <br /> I shook his head. The voice sounded eerily human for such a creature. <br /> <br /> “Grrrrrr..... What do you want?” I growled, not yet use to my changed voice. <br /> <br /> “Your fellowship.” replied the lead beast. “You are one of us. One of the free. One of the chosen. Now you’ve come to join us.”<br /> <br /> “Whaaat? I don’t know you.” I grumbled, still aching to pounce. <br /> <br /> “No Curtis, you don’t know us – but we know you.” replied the leader, “My name is Charger, and we are the Pax Lycana.”<br /> <br /> “Huh?” I muttered.<br /> <br /> “The Pax Lycana!” repeated Charger, “This is now the Wyrm Age! The Earth is falling to the dark laws of the Magi, we were amongst the first to be torn from our families, our homes and warped into these forms – but our minds remained pure. We are the Brotherhood of Fenrir, the last hope of humanity.”<br /> <br /> “Grrrrr... humans suck!” I growled.<br /> <br /> “I understand my child.” said Charger, “It is part of their mutation process, to undo your thoughts as well as your body. You are forced to believe the magi and their lies – but we know the truth. Is that not right, Club?” Another creature moved into the clearing, about the same size as me. It looked up towards Charger, and then turned to face me.<br /> <br /> “He tells the truth.” spoke Club softly, “I too was changed early in the war, but I never surrendered my soul. My name was Jack, and I was at a school run by a mage. He was trying to form a tribe of slaves out of his children before the invasion, but I killed him first.” Club howled with pride.<br /> <br /> “Wazza gotta do with me?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “You are not Wyrm at heart.” replied Charger, <br /> “You can still help your family, and end this curse of the Wyrm. We are the only hope. Will you join us?”<br /> <br /> “Who’s the Verm? I gotta fink!” I hissed. I still couldn’t figure what was going on. War? Wyrm? Magi? The Earth falling? I remembered a river, a forest, feeling wonderful – and now this meeting. I vaguely remembered things called families, things I had done as a boy – but it was all so vague now.<br /> <br /> “Time is of the essence. Even now the forces of the magi continue their march on our homes. They are even close to us now.” said Charger. “You, my son, are our latest comrade. Join us – and you will be saved. Alone, and you will die. I share your fears. I myself tried to end my life when I realised my fate – but I was saved. I regret nothing. Join us!”<br /> <br /> I pondered for a moment. “Awww, I gonna come with you.” I growled, knowing I had little choice.<br /> <br /> “Well done my son.” said Charger, “Join with us – Blade!”<br /> <br /> “Hmmmm, Blade – I like that name.” I thought and roared into the air. The pack roared too. They had gained a brother, and I had gained a sense of belonging and a hope of survival. The War had begun!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=School_Daze&diff=5337 2008-01-15T17:14:54Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: RAVEN’S TOWER By Jed Curtis 2007 ‘On this long and lonely lane You will find the Evil Gnome And when you finally see him You will wish you staid at home. On this long and lonely lan...</p> <hr /> <div>RAVEN’S TOWER<br /> By Jed Curtis 2007<br /> <br /> ‘On this long and lonely lane<br /> You will find the Evil Gnome<br /> And when you finally see him<br /> You will wish you staid at home.<br /> <br /> On this long and lonely lane<br /> You will find the Evil Gnome<br /> And when you finally meet him<br /> You will wish you died alone.’<br /> <br /> They say that your school days are the best days of your life. Mine weren’t. Most of my childhood was spent in fear and above all loneliness. My life was happy until my baby brother Jason was born – when I was six. I had been an only child up until then, but now I had to share my World with a demanding, crying, pink demon. Well, that was my selfish and childish feeling during the first year – but I soon changed my opinion when I realised what fun it was going to be to have a kid brother. Being an only child has benefits – such as getting spoilt by your parents (but my family never had much money); but it also can be very lonely. Now I had a friend. <br /> My newfound hope began to fade. The extra cost of my baby brother was putting a strain on my parents. To the best of my knowledge, Jason had been an accident – for which my father blamed my mother. To compound matters – the firm my father worked for was relocating overseas. My father had agreed to go, but my mother refused to move. The pain and the anger began to increase day by day. Arguments were virtually a daily occurrence. Thankfully, violence never happened – at least not to my knowledge. Sure, I was spanked for misbehaving – but that’s all. Poor Jason was still a baby, unaware of the worsening situation. Some nights, my parents would be rowing for hours – and would not hear Jason’s crying in his cot. I tried to sleep, and ignore the sounds outside my bedroom door; but I just couldn’t. I would see what was wrong with Jason. Often he was just hungry, or tired, or needed his nappy changed. I had become a dab hand with nappies by my seventh birthday.<br /> Other nights, I would sneak out of my room secretly, and pad across the landing to Jason. He used to get terribly upset when my parents shouted at each other. I used to lie by his bed at night and sing to him to drown out the sound downstairs. His favourite songs were Bright Eyes and Puff the Magic Dragon. Sometimes I’d fall asleep by his bedside – at which point he’d decide to wake up again and pull my hair through the bars of the cot. <br /> ‘Zing more! Zing more!’ he would say, and I’d have to sing my whole repertoire all over again. Mum or Dad would often find me fast asleep on the floor, and send me back to my own bedroom because I had school in the morning. <br /> This situation carried on for almost two years. At last my father’s company had moved abroad – and this was the final nail in my parents marriage. They divorced when I was nine. My father moved away – and my mother, Jason and I had to move into a small house. Maintenance cheques came from my father – but these were not much. My mother had to work nights at a call centre to make ends meet, leaving me to fend for myself and Jason in the evenings.<br /> For most of my childhood, Jason was my only friend. I did know others, but they didn’t want to get too close to me. This was in fear of being bullied like me. I and my brother were the only protestant children, and of divorced parents at a catholic boys’ school. We were on an assisted place scheme, having our fees paid for by the local council. I believe that it was part of a token gesture by the school to open its doors to the less fortunate members of the local community – and we were the guinea pigs.<br /> In the beginning, the bullying was just taunts from the other boys, as well as the occasional fight – but nothing out of the ordinary for one’s schooldays. Thankfully, I took the brunt of their cruel boredom. They seemed to leave Jason alone. That was until a boy called Philip Miles joined. I’m not really sure how best to describe Philip. He was the sort of person who would tie a firework to a cat’s tail and laugh as it burnt the poor creature. Why he was like that, I still cannot say. He wasn’t even from a broken home. He had two parents, was well off and had no reason to be the way he was. Perhaps he was ill, but I don’t know. He was certainly sick in his attitude!<br /> I knew this, and so I tried to avoid him. This he noticed, and so tried to taunt me into a reaction. A couple of times he would do things such as push my school books onto the floor, and shout “Pick those up Dog Boy” or something similar. Other times he would stamp on my feet with his football studs during games lessons. Gritting my teeth on most occasions – I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Once I finally lost my temper and tried to punch him, but he was bigger than I was, and quite easily overpowered my pathetic assault. <br /> Then he noticed that the only thing that would make me react was a threat to Jason. He would do things like trip Jason over down the corridors, and steal his satchel from him – throwing it over the school wall. Usually this occurred when I was not around – and I would only hear about it at home. Most evenings I would return home with Jason on our own, make some dinner, wake my mother with a cup of tea, and then do my homework. Nowadays, my mother would be unfairly accused of neglecting us – but in truth she was working horrible hours in poor conditions to keep us in clothes and food. I remember saving all my pocket money for months, and managed to buy my mother a necklace for her birthday. Thinking back, it was not of any real quality – but she still wore it proudly to work every day.<br /> Once Jason had told me of Philip’s actions, I would confront him the next day in class. He had, though, managed to assemble as well drilled gang of about half a dozen or more boys. I was powerless to do anything other than a token bout of fighting. I usually end the day with a bruise or sometimes even a black eye. I tried to tell my teacher, which only succeeded in getting Philip a detention, and making him even madder. It was not long before things started to get out of hand.<br /> The first serious occasion I care to recall was one lunchtime. I was walking past a classroom window when I happened to chance upon one of Philip’s gang holding Jason by the throat. His hands were around Jason’s throat, crushing in on his windpipe. They couldn’t see me. Then I did something I have always deeply regretted – I hesitated!<br /> I pondered, briefly, that perhaps it would be better for Jason to learn to protect himself. What if I wasn’t walking passed the window? What if something happened to me in the future? He would need to look after himself. However, that thought was only a few seconds. A few long, painful, guilty seconds. Finally, I came to my senses and raced into the classroom. Leaping onto the other boy I managed to pull Jason free. Putting myself between Jason and the thug I edged towards the door. Jason was crying and hurt; large bruises evident around his neck. I got him to relative safety, and stayed with him until the bell went for lessons. I have always hated myself for pausing – trying to be too clever for my own good. Thankfully he never knew I had waited – but what if that wait had caused Jason a serious injury?<br /> The next incident was more serious. Somehow Philip had lured Jason into an empty classroom at break time, probably by snatching his bag or something. Anyway, whilst another kept the duty teacher busy talking, Philip sent one of his cronies to find me. <br /> “We’ve got your brother Brookes, and if you don’t come now – he’s finished!” I rushed to the ambush site to be confronted by Philip having poor little Jason in a head-lock, with several henchmen around.<br /> <br /> “Let him go!” I shouted but it was no use. I lunged at Philip, but was wrestled to the ground by his cronies. <br /> <br /> “Brookes – you have a choice. Punch your brother in the face, and we’ll let you go. Or you both get smashed!”<br /> <br /> I looked at Jason. He was grimacing with pain, but tried valiantly not to let Philip know he was hurt. They all taunted us, shouting “Punch him, punch him, punch him!” I turned and glared at Philip. <br /> <br /> “Let him GO!” I bellowed again. Jason was now sobbing.<br /> <br /> “Punch him hard – and we’ll never pick on you again!” smirked Philip, followed by chuckles from his pack of hyenas. It was no good. I had no choice. I got up and walked towards them. I raised my fist, and punched Philip! <br /> In a flash, they released Jason and had set upon me. Philip – initially stunned by my action, then drew a pair of compasses from his pockets – and drove the point into my shoulder – then dragged it along to my arm. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. Without another word, they all fled. Shakily getting to my feet, I went over to Jason, who was crying. Putting my arm around him, we left the room. I told no one of this.<br /> I hoped that was going to be the end of it, and also that Jason would have learnt to stay away from the senior classrooms and stay in the playground, but I was to be disappointed on both.<br /> It was now just before Easter. Jason had got a plastic model aeroplane for his birthday, and despite my strong reservations, he took it to school to show his friends. This was too good an opportunity for Philip to miss. A chance to lure me to his final ambush. Once in the playground, Philip managed to snatch the plane from Jason’s grasp and ran off with it towards the cloakrooms.<br /> <br /> “Come and get it!” cackled back Philip.<br /> <br /> “Give it back!” cried Jason. He was only just eight, and no match for Philip and his crowd. He was also a junior, and was fearful of entering the senior boys’ cloakroom. Jason came running over to me in the playground, tears pouring from his eyes.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve t...t...taken my p..plane” he bawled.<br /> <br /> “Who have?” I replied, putting my arm around him.<br /> <br /> “Those b...b..boys in your c....class. That n....nasty one.”<br /> <br /> My heart sank. Any initial thought of an easy retrieval from a bunch of jealous eight year olds was gone. It was Philip, and I knew that this was another trap. But I had no choice. I couldn’t let Jason down again.<br /> <br /> “Where have they gone?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “T-they’ve g-gone into t-the cloakroom” sobbed Jason.<br /> <br /> “Right, stay here!” I said. “I’ll get it back. I promise.”<br /> <br /> I walked slowly over to the cloakroom. Jason skulked behind me, disobeying my plea to remain outside. As I entered the cloakroom, I found Philip sitting on his haunches against the far wall. Around the room were his minions. As I entered the room, they cut off my retreat. I was terribly afraid, but I had to do it.<br /> <br /> “Ah, Brookes. Come to sort out your no good brother!” he laughed.<br /> <br /> “Give his plane back! It’s me your after. Leave him out of it.” I said as calmly as I could muster. Even as I said it, I felt it sounded rather corny. A bit too Hollywood. <br /> <br /> “Beg!” snarled Philip.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you!” I snapped.<br /> <br /> “Beg you cock, or I’ll break it”. Philip put his hands on the wings of the plane, and began to twist the plastic. I turned to see Jason, who had wandered to the door. He sobbed quietly. <br /> <br /> Spinning back to Philip, I quickly replied “Okay, okay. Just don’t break it.”<br /> <br /> “On your knees!”<br /> <br /> “What?” I said.<br /> <br /> “Beg to me on your knees, you whore’s son!”<br /> <br /> Those words burned. Ever since they had found out that my mother worked nights, they kept calling her a whore and a tart. Had I been me on my own, I would have struck at Philip and to hell with what they did to me – but I was not just responsible for me now. I had promised Jason. Burying what little self-esteem I had left deep inside, I got down on one knee.<br /> <br /> “Lower!” shouted Philip, and with well-rehearsed precision, a boot from one of his henchmen in the middle of my back threw me to the floor; smacking my face into the concrete floor. My lip was bleeding, and I was stunned.<br /> <br /> “G...give him back the plane. Please.........” I cried.<br /> <br /> “Lick my boots, you son of a bitch!” he replied.<br /> <br /> “Fuck you.....” I whispered. But then I heard the creak of plastic, and as if on cue – another whimper from Jason. I turned my head to look towards the door. I think Jason was more worried by my condition than by his plane, but I had promised him. I smiled softly at him. I did not want him to see me like this, but he wouldn’t leave me either. I moved my head towards Philip’s mud covered shoes. Shutting my eyes, I began to lick the putrid mud from them. <br /> <br /> “Swallow!” ordered Philip. How I so wanted to strike back, but I couldn’t. I swallowed!<br /> <br /> “Now bark like a dog!”<br /> <br /> “W...w....what?” I coughed<br /> <br /> “Bark!”<br /> <br /> Tears began to fill my eyes. I could not let that pass. I wanted to have my revenge on Philip, once my promise had been kept. Trying fairly unsuccessfully to hold back my tears and the nausea of the mud in my stomach, I began to growl in my throat.<br /> <br /> “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”<br /> <br /> “That’s better,” smirked Philip, “Get him!”<br /> <br /> With what I assume had been their plan all along, all of them swarmed around me. Kicking me in the stomach and the ribs. Philip just watched, smirking. Then they pinned down my arms and legs. I just managed to twist my head painfully towards Jason, and shout, “Run!”<br /> That was the last thing I remember. I awoke in hospital with three broken ribs, concussion and too many cuts and bruises to recall. Thankfully, in his eagerness to attack me, Philip had actually dropped Jason’s plane undamaged. Before running away to get help, Jason, with the impeccable priorities of an eight year old, had picked up that bloody plane first. My promise had been kept. I had got broken instead.<br /> Was this the end of things? No. Philip and two of his accomplices, Leo and Paul, had been suspended by the teacher who had eventually found me, lying unconscious on the cloakroom floor. Their suspension was to prove nearly fatal for me.<br /> I went back to school after a week or so. I probably should have waited longer, but I didn’t want to leave Jason there alone. Before, they just used to pick on him to get to me, but now he was becoming a target in his own right. It was with some amazing irony that in our school’s passion play, I was cast as Jesus, because of my blond hair. (Why Jesus’ tend to be blond at school when he was Jewish I still haven’t quite understood). Philip and his gang were Romans. When I was hoisted onto the cross, with only a tatty loincloth and crown of thorns to protect my modesty – I had to mutter the words “Forgive them for they do not know what they do!” I even smiled to myself, thinking that they knew exactly what they were doing. They couldn’t even resist jabbing the wooden spear into my side with more force than was necessary at the climax of the play.<br /> It was about a week after I returned that I was attacked again. I was walking home alone from school. Jason was staying at one of his friend’s houses. I had to pass a wooded coppice. It was still quite wintry, and it was dark. I had almost passed the wood when a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the bushes. This was probably the most terrifying experience of my life. I thought I was about to be raped. My arms were pulled tightly behind me, so much so that I could feel my shoulder blades pressing on my spine.<br /> <br /> “Stop it, you’re hurting me!” I cried, which with hindsight was probably the worst thing to say as that was exactly what they wanted to do. They pushed down on my neck, forcing my head into the ground. I was then spun around onto my back, and a hand clasped around my throat. In the twilight I could just about distinguish three figures.<br /> <br /> “Do you know what we do to little snitches? We cut them up!” hissed the man holding me down. I recognised the voice. It was Philip’s older brother, and I assumed his brother’s army buddies. The brother must have been at least nineteen, and against the three of them I had no means of fighting back.<br /> <br /> “Please don’t hurt me” I cried.<br /> <br /> “It’s too late for that. You’re going to die!” replied the silhouetted figure. From his pocket, I saw him pull out a large kitchen knife. The blade flashed in the moonlight. Agonising slowly, he brought it to rest on my face.<br /> <br /> “Hey, shall we cut him a new mouth first?” taunted the brother. He stroked my cheeks and chin with the point of the knife. It almost tickled, but I wasn’t laughing.<br /> <br /> “Nah,” replied one of his friends. “Just kill the bastard and we can go home”. I froze at those words. It is true that your whole life does flash before you. Mainly in a way of bitter-sweet memories. You think of the decisions you could have made differently, and that you will never make anymore. Philip’s brother raised the knife above my chest. I knew I was about to die. In a strange way, I almost felt like shouting for them to get on with it, rather than taunt me first. Then I thought of my Mother, and Jason. I couldn’t leave them. Then in an instant I saw the blade flash downwards. I shut my eyes, and probably squealed like a baby. <br /> <br /> “Just kill me quick” I thought. Thud! The knife plunged into the mud next to me. Laughing cruelly, the three men just walked off into the night. Rather than killing me, it was far more sporting to leave me living with this memory. I lay there for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Shaking and crying – I got to my feet, and stumbled the rest of my way home. The house was empty and dark. I opened the door, walked in, pushing the door behind me as I went. I stood momentarily in the dark hall, then after throwing my bag across the room I collapsed onto the carpet – screaming, crying and kicking the floor. Once I had got all the fear, pain and relief out of my system, I just laid there all night, gazing at the door in silence. My Mum found me in the morning. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I just said that I was picked on at school again, saving her the true details. <br /> By now I was an emotional wreck. The only highlight was I had met a girl. Sarah hung around our local shop where her Mum worked, and we had been talking on and off for a few weeks. She finally agreed to go to the cinema with me. Alas, nemesis was not far away. Because of my mood swings and bruises, my school had informed the social services in the belief that my mother had been neglectful. I protested and said it was bullying at the school – but the headmaster was a close friend with the social services director – both being members of the local Masonic Lodge. They decided that I should be taken into care!<br /> With this threat hanging over me, Sarah and I went to the seaside for a picnic to take my mind off it. We climbed up a hill to see the view. We eventually got to the top, and the view was great – in front of us was the sea and behind were miles and miles of beautiful hills, bathed in late afternoon sunlight. It is quite probably the most beautiful site I have ever scene. I was, at this period, in terrible mess. I barely remember much from this time. I was mixed up, depressed, drinking alcohol under-age, and was even suicidal. Sitting on this hill, gazing over the lovely scenery – it was all too much for me. Silent tears poured down my face.<br /> <br /> <br /> ACT THREE: THE HORROR AT RAVEN’S TOWER<br /> <br /> Soon after this time, I was taken into care, sent to Ravenstower Young Persons’ Institute in Clayton. Jason was now left to fend for himself. My first day at the Institute arrived and I hurriedly tried to packed what few possessions I could into a suitcase to take with me. I said a sad farewell to my Mother and Jason, then walked to the bus stop. Little did we know that they would never see me again. Sarah had promised to visit me as often as possible. Clayton was only 15 miles from where she lived and bus was direct.<br /> I looked out of the bus window at the world flashing by, wondering what sort of life the rest of the world was living. I supposed that some were happy, while some were sad. There were probably many sad people out there, more miserable than me, perhaps? <br /> I eventually reached our destination. There behind impressive iron gates was the main building – even though it was only a few years old, and built in an impressive location near the beach – it still had a bleak deadness to it. Impossible to describe exactly, just a feeling. It was also likely to be my home until I became an adult. Apparently it had been built on waste land by the council on the site of an old manor house, derelict and burnt to the ground a decade before. Not a good omen.<br /> I entered the lobby and rang the bell. A tall and very thin woman slid out of an office at the far end of the corridor and glided towards me with a pair of old-fashioned pinching spectacles perched precariously on the end of her hawk-like nose.<br /> &quot;What is your name boy?&quot; squawked the Hawk Lady.<br /> &quot;Curtis... Curtis Brookes.&quot; I replied nervously. <br /> &quot;Ah yes, young Brookes. We've been expecting you. Come with me and I will introduce you to the department head. Hurry up! Can't stand here all day!&quot; and with that she grabbed my arm and pulled me along the passage towards a door at the far end. She rapped on the door, and I heard a muffled voice call out. <br /> &quot;Who's there?&quot;. <br /> &quot;It's Miss Gutteridge. I have the new boy here - Curtis Brookes. Can we come in?&quot;.<br /> There was a grunt from behind the door, and slowly the Hawk Lady pushed it open to reveal a dark office that stank of musty old cigars. From behind a desk, piled high in papers peered a wizened old man, who spoke in the wheezing voice of a heavy smoker. <br /> &quot;What have we here? He's a fine young specimen. He'll be useful. Come closer boy.&quot; <br /> As I approached his desk, I could see the hunched figure more clearly. I thought he looked more like an ape than a man. <br /> “Hmmm.. this boy has potential. I’m glad he has come to our august institution. We will make a man of him!” exclaimed the man as he reached across his desk and patted me on the shoulder. <br /> &quot;Shall I show Brookes to his dorm now?&quot; asked the Hawk Lady.<br /> &quot;Yes, yes all right then!&quot; snapped the headmaster, who then turned to me, staring straight into my eyes, and spoke quietly. <br /> &quot;I welcome you to the Ravenstower Institution and I hope you will fit in here young Brookes. This is a proud establishment and I don't appreciate those boys who don't join in and who don't do as they are told. We have had pupils here who thought that life was one long game, but they have lived to regret that now, poor souls.&quot; <br /> As he finished he looked mournfully out of the window towards the large woods that backed onto the school's grounds. I felt my heart thump in my throat and I longed to leave that creepy office. Thankfully, the Hawk Lady then led me out and back down the corridor. <br /> I was dragged along winding stair cases and dark passages until finally we arrived at my dormitory. Inside were rows of beds; more reminiscent of a barrack block than a school. <br /> &quot;Here is your dorm. You can have that bed by the window. I'm afraid you've missed dinner and it's lights out at nine!&quot; and with that the Hawk Lady promptly left, slamming the door behind her. The room was full of eyes, all of which were staring directly at me. For nearly a minute no one said anything until the silence was finally broken when one of the boys spoke.<br /> &quot;Whoever you are, you need to know the rules of this dorm. My name's Wesley, and this is my dorm. Everyone here does what I say, and that includes you!&quot; <br /> I didn't know what to say in reply, so I just shrugged my shoulders and walked briskly towards my bed. This was a huge mistake, as my lack of subservience to that adolescent despot was too much for his inflated ego to handle and I suddenly found myself under a scrum of his loyal cronies. My bag was pulled from me, and its contents poured all over the floor, whereupon everyone stole what they thought might be of some value. I was stopped from getting it back when the two tallest gang members grabbed my arms and forced me against the wall. The ring leader, Wesley, then began to repeatedly punch me in the stomach and face. I guess it was my lot in life to be bullied. After a few minutes Wesley grunted. <br /> &quot;I hope you've learnt your lesson!&quot;, and with that I was dropped on the ground.<br /> I managed to crawl over and gather up what were left of my scattered belongings. I felt like crying, but I knew I dared not. That would only bring about another drubbing; but I cried inside. I had cried all my life - inside! <br /> That was it for that day, and soon it was time to go to sleep. I climbed into my bed, from where I could see the large woods through the window, with the evening sun glistening on the sea beyond. I thought that it must be very spooky out there at night - the sort of place that Wesley and the Headmaster would be well suited. A place for demons, goblins and monsters.<br /> I thought to myself that Wesley must be deranged in some way to have such a sadistic personality problem, much like Philip Miles had been – but I was to discover a whole new depth of pain at Wesley’s hand. It wasn't so much that he was a bully or a gang leader, but it was the way his eyes lit up when he was inflicting pain. When my lip was bleeding following his last punch, he seemed to overflow with ecstasy. It was only his thugs who persuaded him that I had been hurt enough, as further injuries would arouse the suspicions of the staff. It was something about Wesley's eyes that stuck in my mind. They seemed hollow and cold. The Headmaster had the same sort of sunken eyes. I decided to keep my distance from Wesley and the Headmaster from now on. <br /> Things eased off slightly for the next few days, but Wesley still held sway in my dorm, and apparently in some of the other dorms as well. He somehow had the ability to frighten the other boys into doing what he wanted. He was the leader of the pack, the alpha male. He wasn't especially tall or stocky. He was only my age, and had thick brown hair. His only distinguishing features were his eyes. They were horrible, and they had a manner of cold hardness that infected the other boys as if he could hypnotise them. I hated Wesley. He was evil. He was a beast!<br /> It was a bright, autumn day. The morning lessons had just finished and we had an hour-long lunch break before the afternoon session. Whilst the other boys were playing football over on the playground, I was walking alone on the field near the dark woods. We had been told not to go anywhere near there under any circumstances, even during Games lessons when a teacher was present! <br /> This edict was too much for any self-respecting teenage boy to endure. When the teacher on duty wasn't looking, I managed to sneak up to the edge of the woods and peer through the trees. I could just make out a six foot high wooden fence about hundred yards away. Behind it were even more trees, eventually leading into open moorlands up Clayton Hill to the left – and the sea to the right. There was nothing else to do that lunch time, so when no one was looking I managed to sneak out to have a look around. <br /> I had always lived in towns before, so the experience of the woods was new for me. All the new smells and noises were fascinating. Even the beams of sunlight dancing through the yellow leaves were magic. I know that may sound rather over the top somewhat, but it really was a terrific new experience for me. I didn't want to leave, I felt at home there - far more than in my old home. It didn't feel at all scary during the day, unlike at night. <br /> After about ten minutes of wandering aimlessly around daydreaming, I heard the sound of crunching twigs. I turned around, and saw a crouched figure loping along about twenty feet in front of me. It looked like the accursed Wesley, and he appeared to be in a hurry, so I bounded after him, sure that he was up to no good as usual. <br /> I tried to keep up with him but he disappeared behind a small clump of trees. When I reached the bushes there was no sign of him. I was sure that he had spotted me and had doubled back. I pondered what I should do, and decided to have it just one last look. Was that him rustling that nearby bush? As I bounded over to investigate I tripped over a stump and cut my hand on a sharp stone. Blood poured from the surprisingly deep wound. I thought that it might get infected so I reluctantly left my new found paradise and wandered back to the cloakroom to wash my hands. <br /> What had Wesley been doing in the woods? Perhaps he had a hide-out there where he stashed fags or alcohol he had stolen from the mentor and teacher's common room. Nothing would have surprised me. He was capable of anything! <br /> I washed the clotted blood and mud from my hands. My hand still hurt, and wouldn't stop bleeding. I bound it in a handkerchief, and shoved it in my pocket. The lunch break had just finished, and my next lesson was about to start. Being right handed I could keep my cut left hand concealed under the desk, away from the teacher's gaze. By doing this I managed to get through the last two lessons of the day without it being noticed, and it was time to go back to the dorms for the evening.<br /> Wesley was there with his gang of thugs, but they seemed not to notice me. They were discussing something between themselves, something that seemed to make them quite excited. Wesley didn't even mention his encounter with me in the woods. Perhaps he hadn't seen me? Perhaps it hadn't been him out there at all? <br /> I scribbled down my homework, and then read a book for about an hour or two before going to bed. My hand had slightly healed, but a thin trickle of blood still seeped from the wound. My once white handkerchief was now sodden with blood, so I hid it under the bed. From biology I knew that saliva could make blood clot, so I sucked my hand hoping that it would dry up before I fell asleep. If I got blood on my bedclothes then the teasing about it being my &quot;time of the month&quot; and &quot;why didn't I wear women's panties?&quot; would be insufferable. <br /> I had never tasted blood in this quantity before. Sure I have had cut lips and the like, but this was a constant flow. I kept on sucking and licking it. It was warm and sweet. I enjoyed it. To my surprise and even shock, I found myself biting my hand to keep the wound open. I almost felt a feeling of disappointment when it finally healed up around midnight. By now my mouth was ruby red, and I rather fancied myself as Dracula or Nosferatu. If I was a true vampire then I could really scare Wesley. He would probably wet himself or better, and then everyone would laugh at him. His authority would be left in tatters. I could have my revenge.<br /> My normal school day consisted off standard lessons of the main curriculum, games lessons and also what were termed corrective measures. This was primarily being sat on the floor in a large empty room and being shown videos on a projection screen about the evils of anit-social behaviour, drugs, alcohol, sex - you name it, it was there. Why we were subjected to chastisement when many of us were not delinquents but simply victims of others aggression seemed to escape the minds of the power that be, but I soon discovered a darker methodology at work there.<br /> I was convinced that the educational videos held subliminal messages, too fast to read, but occasionally were glimpsed. These sessions were always immediately preceded by lunch and proceeded by physical education. Lunch was always a revolting, Dickensian slop. Apparently it was packed full of vitamins and other healthy additives. I suspected this was just the tip of iceberg.<br /> Games lessons normally revolved around punishing circuit training and body building. No team sports. I preferred the indoor lessons, at least we were out of the damp air and all the mosquitoes. Some boys had been bitten raw by them, living in the marshy land between Ravenstower and the sea.<br /> The next few days passed without serious incident, except that Wesley continued to taunt me. He also seemed hyped up about something else. He would sit up in bed at night just looking out of the window. I think I was the only one who noticed this. Everyone else was usually asleep. Only Wesley and I couldn't sleep properly. Our beds both faced the window and the bright moonlight streamed in, casting long shadows and highlighting every crack in the wall. There were no curtains, not since previous pupils had set fire to them. Wesley never looked at me, but only out of the window, so I don't think he knew that I was watching him. But I was, every night, planning my revenge. <br /> How I hated him! He was a tyrant. Kicking chairs over and smashing cups. He even urinated over me once when we were both in the lavatory. It was also him who had ended up with most of my stolen most of my possessions on the first day, and there was no way I could get them back. But I would get him and he was going to be very sorry. <br /> The following night, Wesley seemed especially restless. He sat for a couple of hours, even after lights out, not paying attention to anyone. But when everyone else was asleep, he quietly climbed out of bed, still fully dressed, and opened the window. Using the old drainpipe that ran next to our dorm's wall, he managed to climb to the ground and ran of into the night. <br /> Once I had heard him drop to the ground, I crept out of bed and looked out of the window to see where he was going. The moon was bright, almost full, so it was not too difficult to make out his lumbering shape heading towards the woods. <br /> I thought to myself that he must be heading for his shack, to get a quick fix of alcohol, wacky baccy or porn. Whatever it was, it wasn't my problem. I climbed back into bed, and wondered why anyone would willingly go into the woods at night. During the daylight was fine, but at night - who knows what was out there? I settled back into bed, and soon was asleep.<br /> The next day, a strange procession creaked its way into town. At least ten assorted caravans and trucks, some mechanised, some horse-drawn rambled their way along. I peered out of the dorm window through the rain and gloom at the faded signs on the sides of the vehicles and his heart thumped in excitement. The circus had come to town! It was Saturday, and we were allowed a limited freedom to venture into town. I was not going to miss this opportunity. <br /> The caravans arrived at the empty field at the top end of town, on a slight rise overlooking the bay and the town itself. Clayton was the epitome of a small town at the end of a railway line, except that even trains stopped going there now. The town was drab and tired, nestled between the sea and the towering Claw Hill behind. Most of the buildings were in poor repair and half the shops had closed since the last factory went bust in the recent economic recession and unemployment was high. The circus would be a welcome distraction. I signed out from the dorm register and went to the public phone box at the end of the lane.<br /> <br /> “Hi Curtis” said Sarah, picking up the phone.<br /> <br /> “Hi Honey” I replied “The circus is in Clayton, just down the road from me. Want to go?”<br /> <br /> “No thanks. I’m against them, they are cruel to their animals. They should be banned!”<br /> <br /> “Oh no, it’s a people only circus. I asked one of the people as they were setting up camp. He reassured me that they no animals at all, and their show was just human performers and volunteers from the audience.” I stated.<br /> <br /> “Still sounds a bit corny. Can we go to the cinema afterwards then?” asked Sarah.<br /> <br /> “If you want…” I replied in resignation. “Can I ring Jason and ask him to come…?”<br /> <br /> “NO! Why do you always have to try and take your kid brother with us? You know what they say, two’s company, three is….” She said sternly.<br /> <br /> “Ok, ok, I just feel responsible for him since Dad left. Meet you at 6.30. Luv ya.” And I replaced the receiver.<br /> That afternoon, Sarah arrived on the bus and we wandered down to the circus field. The area was packed. Most of Clayton seemed to be there, jostling about to look at the attractions. It wasn’t just the main tent to see, but a number of caravan and stalls. It really looked like some Victorian freak show; but in the 21st century such things were the preserve of Hollywood Horror. The circus fair reflected Clayton very well. It was shabby and crumbling. Paint peeled off the caravans and most of the staff looked as if they needed a shave and a bath, and that was just the women!<br /> <br /> “What happened to your hand?” said Sarah, concerned, pointing to my bandage.<br /> <br /> “Oh, I just cut it during games.” I said nonchalantly. <br /> <br /> We walked over to one of the stalls, where a small crowd was gathering. It was a new take on the coconut throwing game, but instead of coconuts there were rubber skulls on the spikes. <br /> <br /> “A bit weird.” I thought.<br /> <br /> Then my heart skipped a beat. Three of Wesley’s cronies, dressed in hooded tops and acting the fools, turned up at the same stall. They started chucking the wooden balls at the skulls. After repeated strikes, the skulls still refused to shift. Angrily, they complained to the stall holder.<br /> <br /> “This is fixed. Those bloody things are glued.”<br /> <br /> “No sir, this is a fair game” replied the stall holder as he effortlessly lifted each skull to show there was no glue. “perhaps you would care to discuss this with the manager”.<br /> <br /> “Nah, crummy fair anyway.” Replied the youth and walked off. However, the stall holder called after him. <br /> <br /> “Sir, we don’t want any bad feelings here. If you see the manager I’m sure he will give you some free tickets for the circus.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, why not!” replied the youth, and he and his companions followed the stall holder behind the tent into one of the caravans. After only a few seconds, the stall holder re-emerged smiling. The youths obviously were still inside, discussing things with the manager.<br /> <br /> “Curtis, I bet you could win a prize.” flattered Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Three balls please.” I said to the stall holder, handing him the requisite fee.<br /> <br /> “Thank you sir!”<br /> <br /> I took aim, and threw the balls in rapid succession. The first missed, the second struck the base but the third connected sweetly and the skull wobbled, teetered for a moment and then fell to the ground.<br /> <br /> “Well done sir. Here’s your prize.”<br /> <br /> He handed me a large cuddly toy gorilla, which I promptly thrust to Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Happy now?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Oh yes,” she replied “and he looks just like you.”<br /> <br /> We continued to look around the fair and circus. The acrobatic display was impressive, but the clowns were more sinister than funny. The Sun was setting over the brow of Clayton Hill (or Claw Hill as the locals called it) casting a shadow, both physical and spiritual, over the village of Clayton. For centuries the curse of Claw Hill had blighted the lives of the villagers, but it was always assumed that in the modern technological world, the wand of science would have banished the terrors of myth and legend; but this was far from the truth.<br /> It was evening, and I was walking back to Ravenstower from the bus stop, having seen Sarah safely on to the bus. Curfew was 9pm, so I had to walk briskly. The walk back took me across the edge of the fields at the foot of Claw Hill. Creepy though this route was, I was far less bothered by ancient legends than by the groups of drunks that hung around the Old Hermit pub in Clayton, which my alternative route would have taken me past. The moon was bright and the sky cloudless, so the path was easy to follow, and I walked confidently albeit briskly. The legend of the Evil Gnome of Claw Hill was common knowledge in local folklore. The rhyme went:<br /> <br /> “On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally see him, you will wish you staid at home… On this long and lonely lane, you will find the Evil Gnome, and when you finally meet him, <br /> you will wish you died alone!”<br /> <br /> This was the creepy story was about the infamous ‘Evil Gnome’ – the ghost of Orak, a deformed hermit who’s ghost had terrorised Clayton after he had been burnt alive by the villagers for suspected witchcraft in the 17th century. Since his ‘execution’, the ghost on Claw Hill started abducting children who strayed too far from home at night, draining their souls and leaving their bodies lifeless husks. Any adults caught on Claw Hill after dark were simply driven insane by his appearance, fleeing in terror over the hill. They were usually found the next day, lying dead in a ditch, their necks broken. I didn’t believe the stories, but thought it would make a good movie one day.<br /> The twigs cracked under my trainers as I continued on. I was now at the highest point of the path on Claw Hill slopes, and it was thickly wooded, obscuring the moonlight and making the way ahead difficult to discern. There was rustling in the undergrowth to my left. It sounded like the type of noise made by a poorly paid horror movie sound technician to imitate some sort of demon waiting to pounce. I was unmoved, assuming it was a badger or something equally innocent. I did quicken my pace however. I was nearing the light again, and soon the lights of the village would guide me back.<br /> <br /> “Ouch!” I cried.<br /> <br /> Something small and sharp struck me in the neck. It felt like a wasp sting, but at night? I reached up, and pulled a small thorn from my skin. It was impossible to make out clearly what it was in the dark, so I flicked it away and rubbed my neck. There was small lump where the thorn had pierced the flesh, but no significant pain. <br /> <br /> “Bloody mosquitoes” I moaned, and trotted on.<br /> <br /> The next morning, I overslept until mid-morning – feeling quite lethargic. Fortunately it was Sunday, but for me it was unusual. The dorm was empty. I crawled out of bed and wandered into the washroom. My jaw dropped when I looked into the mirror. The lump on my neck had turned black and was now about two inches in diameter. It was also numb to the touch. After splashing my face, I raced back to his room and dressed. My hand had also started bleeding again, which didn't help. I was starting to think that I was more of a stigmatic than a vampire. <br /> When I got downstairs, I could hear the buzz of excited discussion. Apparently the three hooded boys who I had seen at the circus had not come back last night – and gone on the run. The police had been informed but so far they had eluded capture. Wesley was already in the dining room, grinning from ear to ear, and looking straight at me. I tried to ignore him, and sat down in a corner. I hadn't any friends to talk to, but I didn't care. They were all scum like Wesley! For a change, Wesley said and did nothing to me for the whole day - until early that evening. <br /> At dinner time, I was sitting in the corner on my own again, gulping down my soup, when Wesley stood up and walked straight up to my table without any provocation. I tried to ignore him, but he picked up my glass and poured the contents into my soup. I sprang out of my chair to punch him, but he just pushed me back down. There were no teachers in the hall, and everyone else were too scared of Wesley and his cronies to call out. Wesley then leaned down towards me and whispered in my ear. <br /> &quot;I will make you wish that you had never been born!&quot; and he raised his hand and brought it down on my face, slashing my cheek with his fingernails. He drew blood and I yelped in pain. He then stood up, smiled, turned on his heels and walked calmly back to his table. The room was silent! I was shaken, but said nothing. I ran to the toilet, so that they wouldn't see me cry... <br /> How could my life get any worse? But my most shameful experience still lay in store. Confined with Wesley and all in a dormitory, with no means of escape – was beyond terror. Previously I had only been beaten, now I was to be tortured. <br /> It was after dinner, and all the teachers were on the terrace smoking and drinking. So much for being role models? I was left alone in my dorm with my tormentors. On the stroke of eight, when they knew the teachers’ movement patterns, virtually the whole dorm of hormone pumped teenage boys encircled my bed. I was sitting there, trying to ignore them. <br /> Without a word, Wesley’s usual cronies rushed forward and pulled me onto the floor. Someone yanked off my shoes, whilst numerous hands grabbed my t-shirt and forcibly ripped it off me in pieces. I was dragged to one of the empty bunks, and my wrists and ankles were tied with parcel tape to the bedposts, impossible to break. Wesley strode forward, and grabbing my hair – yanked my head back, straining me to look up at him. Without saying a word, he spat in my face, and then let go. He then produced a broom handle that had been hidden behind one of the bunks. Putting it behind my back, he said coldly, “Whore boy is going to get buggered.” and he forced the end of the broom handle into the seat of my jeans. The pain grew as my jeans began to push in and split. I could not believe what was happening. I begged the other boys to help – but they all stood there; apparently enjoying the show. Just as the unthinkable was about to happen, Wesley pulled the broom back out. Walking around to look me in the face, he muttered:<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I did not reply. How did he know about my mother working nights? It was so unfair, all over again.<br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> Still I didn’t reply. Then, out of his jacket pocket, he produced a petrol cigarette lighter. Igniting it, he moved it towards my face. For the third time, he said <br /> <br /> “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> I spat back in his face and shouted “Your mother is a fucking whore!” <br /> <br /> Suddenly, he thrust the flame under my left arm. I screamed and squirmed as my skin blistered. The rest of boys I think were becoming unnerved by now. He had gone beyond the pale. Wesley was mad. Whilst still holding the flame under my arm, he said coldly and calmly “Repeat after me: My mother is a fucking whore!”<br /> <br /> The pain was intense, even nauseous. I could not take it any more. Sobbing, I whimpered “My mother is a fucking whore....” <br /> I still feel ashamed for giving in, but what else could I do? I was eventually cut free by the guilty faced crowd. Of course I went to the teachers. The huge blistered burn on my arm and my torn clothing was proof enough but they still did nothing. It was useless, I had to take matters into my own hands!<br /> <br /> I had planned what my revenge would be. I decided that I would follow Wesley into the woods one night, and discover what he was up to. I would then tell the Headmaster and the Hawk Lady, and hopefully he would be expelled, and be out of my life forever! <br /> It was late, and the warden called for lights out. I pretended to be already asleep, but I was still dressed, in preparation for my confrontation with Wesley in the woods. <br /> At about quarter to midnight, Wesley slowly clambered out of his bed, walked to the window, and was soon away down the drain pipe. Once he was gone, I got up and followed him. It was a full moon tonight, so I could easily find my way down to ground. I was worried about leaving blood stains on the whitewashed walls from my bandaged hand. It still hadn't healed dammit! <br /> Gingerly, I picked my way across the sports field, following Wesley towards the woods. It wasn't long before I was close to him. He had stopped in a clearing a few yards into the woods, and was bathed in moonlight. I crouched down and watched to see what he would do. Clumsily, I trod on a twig and made the loudest 'quiet' sound I had ever heard. Wesley spun round. <br /> “Who’s there?” he cried, in a hoarse voice that I almost didn’t recognise. I didn’t reply, so he walked deeper into the woods. I followed! <br /> My eagerness out did me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was crashing through the undergrowth, and straight into Wesley, who had stopped walking. He jumped in fright, and then looked to see what had hit him. When he saw it was me, his eyes burned with rage and fear. <br /> “Curtis! Why are you...[Cough]...out here?” <br /> “Following you. Seeing what you’re up to.” I replied. I could see that Wesley looked in pain, and his voice was definitely different - as if he had a sore throat. <br /> “So...you’re not here because of the Urge?” wheezed Wesley. <br /> “What urge? What are you talking about?” <br /> “Haven’t you noticed? Haven’t you felt strange sensations you’ve never felt before? [Cough] I was like you when I first arrived here, but now look at me. I’m an animal - disliked by everyone!” <br /> This wasn’t the Wesley I knew and hated. He was different; frightened! <br /> “It.. it must be the headmaster. I’m sure he’s put something in the [Cough] water, or our food, or even the air - to change us! First it’s just a feeling of restlessness... but then the urge builds and builds. [Cough] I often come out here to try and ease the pain. It sometimes works but not tonight! I tried to tell my parents, but they just laughed. No one’s parents believe them either. Their too busy to care anyway. Other boys have disappeared before now, and no one’s said anything! Didn’t you hear about them at the circus? They are all in on it. Perhaps the govern..[Cough]..ment is involved.” <br /> “What planet are you on?” I replied coolly, “You’re making this up.” <br /> “I’m not!” roared Wesley, but as the words slipped out of his mouth, he fell to the ground and started to shake violently. <br /> “Stop play acting” I said, “You’re not impressing anyone!” <br /> My manner altered upon looking at the crouching figure. I could see that something was wrong, different. Wesley was changing, growing! I stared in horror. All sense of reality was draining from my mind. After a minute or so, what had once been a boy was now something quite different. Something terrible!<br /> I began to run, as the creature that had once been Wesley sniffed the air. Was it the blood from my hand that was attracting it. The scratches on my face, the lump on my neck and blister on my arm all burned and itched terribly. <br /> A few seconds later the beast gave chase, running faster than I could ever hope to match. At that time I had no idea of what I had just seen, but I knew that it was after my blood. <br /> Just as I thought I couldn’t run any further, I noticed a sharp branch lying on the ground. Thinking it could be a possible weapon, I picked it up and prepared to face my pursuer. Moments later the creature burst out of the undergrowth, and leapt straight at me. I raised the stick – by sheer luck striking the beast in the side of the neck. Its own momentum jerked the stick out of my hands, ripping the wound wide open.<br /> The creature momentarily roared in pain and then fell down dead. I also dropped to my knees, trying to catch my breath. As I looked across at the creature, I could see that it was much larger than a man, and covered in hair? No, fur! Its ghastly features twisted further by its violent death. There is only one description I can use for it - a werewolf! <br /> As I looked on, I could see it mutating slowly, back into the familiar form of Wesley, only naked, bloody and dead. I have to admit now that I was terrified.<br /> The whole scene was bathed in moonlight, and I suddenly felt wonderful. Even better than during my first saunter into the woods. I raised my head, tears pouring from my eyes, arched my back and gave out a loud cry of joy, totally oblivious to anyone who might hear me. <br /> I looked down again, and saw the crumpled shape of Wesley, my fallen opponent; my prey, helpless infront of me. I sensed the blood and longed for its sweet taste on my lips. However, I suddenly became aware of approaching footsteps. Someone must have heard us fighting, and had come to investigate. Then from behind a tree, a figure appeared. It was the headmaster; he must have followed us out. <br /> “Brookes - is that you? I never expected one of our newest students to show such early promise!” he said in a jovial tone, but when he saw the fallen figure at my feet his voice became icy. <br /> “You killed it! You killed it!” he screamed, “My boy - you killed my boy. All my hard work has gone to waste.” <br /> I was horrified by his words. Could Wesley have been right all the time? Was the headmaster really behind the strange sensations that we had been experiencing - turning the boys into bullies and then beasts? Was he using the cover of a care home to perfect his vile experiments on boys who would not be missed? <br /> “Stay where you are Brookes! By the process of natural selection, you have proved yourself to be a worthy successor.” <br /> I didn't really hear his words, they didn't interest me anymore. I turned back to look at Wesley lying on the ground. Out of the side of his torn neck protruded the stick that had saved my life. The warm, sticky blood seeped from the wound, and trickled into the mud. How I so wanted to taste it, to be one with it - the ecstasy that it would give me! <br /> I could now feel the urge growing inside me. I had never felt like this before. It was a strange feeling, but I wasn’t sure for what. Blood? Hatred? Sex? Freedom? Revenge? I just couldn't be certain. <br /> The headmaster had now been joined by some teachers. He had started laughing, and beckoning me to come to him. How dare he! He was evil, and had to be stopped. Who knows what he had planned for me? <br /> I ran towards him, arms out stretched. He must have thought I was submitting - but at the last moment I sprang in the air, landing upon him and knocking him over. Before I knew what I was doing, I had thumped my fist into his throat. I kept doing it until I heard his neck crack. He groaned for a moment, and then lay still. He had deserved it - he was a monster! I was simply the avenging angel. <br /> I knew that I must get away from there; from the scene of my revenge, or otherwise I would be punished! I had been punished enough! I had been punished everyday since my parents divorced! I was never going through that again. <br /> With animal instinct I turned on my heels and fled towards the nearby moors. I ran and ran, never looking back. Soon I was deep in the woods, and the teachers had lost sight of me. I crouched behind a small bush and growled quietly to myself. <br /> I wasn't Curtis Brookes any more. I never wanted to be that puny boy ever again. His existence had crushed my true being and I wanted out! I longed to rid myself of his legacy forever! I could see that the humans had detected my position and were running towards where I was hiding. I had to flee, and in one bound I had cleared the wooden fence that marked the border with the moors and the wilderness beyond. Now I was free of humanity and its many cruelties. I was free!<br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> It was very, very dark. Only the strange orange moon cast any light upon my surroundings. In front of me I could see what looked like a dense, gloomy forest – stretching away into the infinite distance, totally obliterating the horizon beyond. On all sides, its mass of twisted branches and knotted trunks wreaked of foreboding and unhappiness. Yet, for some deep unknown reason, I felt drawn towards it; compelled by my own subconscious! The forest looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it exactly. It was as if I saw that forest every day, but I was sure I had never been there before.<br /> <br /> “You are confused my child.” came a calm voice from behind me.<br /> <br /> I spun around to see a small, ugly dwarf – dressed in black, with a strange, pale face. His eyes were red and slanted, and his teeth pointed.<br /> <br /> “W.....who are you?” I stammered, feeling a little scared. <br /> <br /> “Oh, I’m nobody Curtis. A bit like you really. Just a figment of a fantastic imagination.” replied the strange dwarf menacingly.<br /> <br /> “What?” I asked. <br /> <br /> “You’ll understand in time – my boy. You have been selected and you have a task to perform.”<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone.” I cried, beginning to tentatively step backwards. <br /> <br /> “Don’t worry Curtis. You’ll understand in time.” repeated the demonic dwarf. “Just walk deeper into the forest. That’s all.”<br /> <br /> My clothes suddenly began to feel too tight. My jeans choked my legs as if they were swelling, but I tried to ignore the discomfort.<br /> <br /> “Go on, tell me more.” I said to the old dwarf. <br /> <br /> “First you must eat.” Replied the old man, and threw a chunk of raw meat to me. Without hesitation, I began to bite into the dripping flesh. It made my stomach gurgle and bloat. I pulled up my sweatshirt and gasped. The pale skin on my stomach was stretched and translucent. Underneath, my muscles rippled and writhed. Huge dark veins pulsed and slithered visibly below the surface. I felt sick. It was as if my torso resembled a giant maggot. My stomach bulged against my belt and jeans, dilating with every heartbeat. I tucked my t-shirt back into my jeans and continued to eat.<br /> My feet really ached. I sat down on a tree stump and pulled off my shoes and socks. Rubbing my feet, they felt swollen and numb. With great difficulty I pulled my socks and shoes back on and shook my head. I could not bring any words to my lips. I turned away from the dwarf’s blazing red eyes, to look once again at the dark forest. It was so terrifying, yet spellbindingly beautiful at the same time.<br /> <br /> “Go on Curtis. Go on.” spoke the red-eyed man softly.<br /> <br /> Hearing the words resonate through my skull - I began to tentatively step towards the forest, not noticing the brown sticky mud and knotted grass all around. It was only another few steps when I came to a stop. I had finally noticed the sticky mud on my shoes, but now my way was blocked by a wide pool, or was it a river, of oozing black mud. Although I felt no heat, the mud bubbled and spat like a volcanic vent. I looked around for the strange dwarf, but he was gone. Turning back, I looked across the mud towards the forest....... My forest, my home! This accursed river of mud, this restraint on my true being was blocking me, choking me, crushing me!<br /> I raised my foot from the bank, lifting it towards the oozing river. It was then that the grass around me grew quickly, spurting from the ground like tentacles, grabbing around my calf, pulling my leg back.<br /> <br /> “Nooo! I want to go!” I cried, snatching at the grassy vines. I continued to struggle until the vines snapped. Once broken, they faded away, and as they did – so did the sky behind me, leaving nothing but blackness. I had to go on! Letting out a deep, guttural roar – I dived into the mud. <br /> The mud was slightly warm after all. It soothed me, caressed me, held me. It flowed slowly inside my sodden clothes, and caressed my skin. I felt wonderful. Never before had I experienced love and tenderness on this level before. I didn’t want to leave. It was safe here. It was home now. I didn’t care that the mud was filling my mouth, my ears and my nostrils. I could still breath quite happily. The mud wouldn’t let me come to harm.<br /> Slowly, my senses faded in and out. I saw mud, then a forest, then a strange yet familiar room, and furniture, then I saw my mother, and Jason, then Sarah! But then just mud again. I felt sad. <br /> I realised that I was swimming. Swimming in the mud – towards the far bank. Towards the forest. My forest. My real home. Increasingly, the feelings I had for this muddy haven ebbed away. It was the forest I must get to – not this accursed brown slime. I continued to squirm and wriggle my way to the far side. <br /> I felt my body burn hot and cold. I felt strange tingling sensations up and down my arms and legs. I felt constrained by the things around me – pulling him back, squeezing me tight, reminding me of what I once was. Then in a flash – they were gone, and I was there! I had reached the far bank! <br /> I raised my muddy hand up to grabbed onto a branch that jutted out from the river bank. Hauling myself up and out of the mud, onto the grassy bank, I was sure that something felt different. In fact I felt quite strange. My perspective had altered. I smelt things, saw things, heard things that I had never experienced before. Also, my body felt funny – things bent in a strange way and my clothes pulled tightly around my arms and legs. I looked down, to see the mud covering my body begin to dissolve. Underneath, to my shock and sheer wonder – was a layer of shimmering, dark fur poking out of the collar and cuffs of my sweatshirt! Instinctively I pulled at my tight clothes. I was finally renouncing humanity with all its evils; and letting the Wilderness take me! Suddenly a terrible pain hit me and I fell to the ground. My shoulders broadened still further, huge muscles bulking up on my back and chest. My shoes became incredibly tight, then they exploded off my feet as they became clawed paws! I scratched the ground with them, enjoying the power they now possessed. The pressure was building in my jeans, the strong blue denim creaking as my body expanded inside. My massive growing thighs and buttocks were cramming my jeans like a second skin! <br /> I licked my lips in anticipation of what happening. The animal urge was growing in me, pulsing through my veins. Every heartbeat and every breath brought more growth, more fur, more muscle, more pressure, more pleasure! My expanding body was pulling my hooded blue sweatshirt snugly under my arms and around my chest. The collar started to choke me a bit. I tried to put my hands up to my collar to pull it wider to allow my neck room to grow, but my hands were already growing into stubby claws and I couldn’t get a good grip of the fabric. I settled back to all fours to await events as my body continued to swell like a balloon, the pressure and pain increasing with every breath. <br /> I could feel my clothes pull even tighter about me. How much longer would they hold out? My astonishing muscle growth then began to accelerate, causing the fabric of my clothes to groan in agony. The sweatshirt stitching under my arms began to give way very slowly stitch by stitch. Pop, pop, pop, pop. The ripping sound was like sweet music to my ears. My metamorphosis was beautiful and slow. New muscles bulged all over my expanding frame. The mighty growth was going too fast for the exhausted stitching to keep up and the cotton fabric itself splintered and exploded off my upper body. This latest surge of growth carried on down my body to my thighs and buttocks. With a slow, delicious cracking sound – my huge legs began to prise apart the blue denim of my jeans, inch by inch running down each leg. With a sudden boom, the back of the jeans burst open and they fell to the ground in a crumpled heap of rags.<br /> I roared in delight. Checking out the rest of my new body was equally wonderful. It was all there. Fangs, claws, fur – the works! I was at last the werewolf I had dreamed of. Exactly as I had dreamed it. Exactly! Well, not exactly - I think I may have been more were-gorilla than werewolf but who cared now. <br /> I fell forwards onto all fours, which now felt much more comfortable. My immense bulk cast a huge shadow in the moonlight over the oddly green grass around me. Raising my head towards the sky, I let out another roar – and loped off into the dark forest.<br /> After a while, I sniffed the air. There were strange sounds in the distance. I was unsure what they signified. They were not like the calls of any bird I knew. Loud cracks, like wood clattering against branches. Then distant cries. I dug my claws into the damp soil, and snarled. I didn’t like what I couldn’t understand – and I couldn’t understand strange noises. I padded deeper into the forest, fearful of what these things meant.<br /> I found himself in a clearing, bathed in moonlight. The strange sounds continued, getting closer, and closer. Out of the undergrowth loped a strange figure. It was larger than me, but similarly formed – arched back, fur and sharp claws. It bared its teeth, and snarled. Instinctively, I snarled back – and turned to face my assailant. Just then, another figure appeared, and another, and another, and another. Soon, I was totally surrounded by the pack. I spun around, trying to find an escape route – but all were blocked! They moved closer and closer, eyes fixed on me. I returned my gaze towards the original opponent, and prepared to strike.<br /> <br /> “Do not fear my child.” said the lead beast, “We are not your enemy.”<br /> <br /> I shook his head. The voice sounded eerily human for such a creature. <br /> <br /> “Grrrrrr..... What do you want?” I growled, not yet use to my changed voice. <br /> <br /> “Your fellowship.” replied the lead beast. “You are one of us. One of the free. One of the chosen. Now you’ve come to join us.”<br /> <br /> “Whaaat? I don’t know you.” I grumbled, still aching to pounce. <br /> <br /> “No Curtis, you don’t know us – but we know you.” replied the leader, “My name is Charger, and we are the Pax Lycana.”<br /> <br /> “Huh?” I muttered.<br /> <br /> “The Pax Lycana!” repeated Charger, “This is now the Wyrm Age! The Earth is falling to the dark laws of the Magi, we were amongst the first to be torn from our families, our homes and warped into these forms – but our minds remained pure. We are the Brotherhood of Fenrir, the last hope of humanity.”<br /> <br /> “Grrrrr... humans suck!” I growled.<br /> <br /> “I understand my child.” said Charger, “It is part of their mutation process, to undo your thoughts as well as your body. You are forced to believe the magi and their lies – but we know the truth. Is that not right, Club?” Another creature moved into the clearing, about the same size as me. It looked up towards Charger, and then turned to face me.<br /> <br /> “He tells the truth.” spoke Club softly, “I too was changed early in the war, but I never surrendered my soul. My name was Jack, and I was at a school run by a mage. He was trying to form a tribe of slaves out of his children before the invasion, but I killed him first.” Club howled with pride.<br /> <br /> “Wazza gotta do with me?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “You are not Wyrm at heart.” replied Charger, <br /> “You can still help your family, and end this curse of the Wyrm. We are the only hope. Will you join us?”<br /> <br /> “Who’s the Verm? I gotta fink!” I hissed. I still couldn’t figure what was going on. War? Wyrm? Magi? The Earth falling? I remembered a river, a forest, feeling wonderful – and now this meeting. I vaguely remembered things called families, things I had done as a boy – but it was all so vague now.<br /> <br /> “Time is of the essence. Even now the forces of the magi continue their march on our homes. They are even close to us now.” said Charger. “You, my son, are our latest comrade. Join us – and you will be saved. Alone, and you will die. I share your fears. I myself tried to end my life when I realised my fate – but I was saved. I regret nothing. Join us!”<br /> <br /> I pondered for a moment. “Awww, I gonna come with you.” I growled, knowing I had little choice.<br /> <br /> “Well done my son.” said Charger, “Join with us – Blade!”<br /> <br /> “Hmmmm, Blade – I like that name.” I thought and roared into the air. The pack roared too. They had gained a brother, and I had gained a sense of belonging and a hope of survival. The War had begun!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5336 2008-01-15T17:14:24Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE *]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5335 2008-01-15T17:14:07Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SCHOOL DAZE*]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5331 2008-01-15T16:50:35Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[RAVEN'S TOWER*]]<br /> Opening Part of a New Story Universe, a boy's World turned upside down!<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=5087 2008-01-09T18:05:58Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>[[Category:Author]]{{DEFAULTSORT:Jed Curtis}}<br /> THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Whale_Jelly&diff=3210 2007-10-06T12:35:36Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis Curtis examined himself in the mirror. The spot was definitely getting bigger. Why today of all days? The day of the High School Summer ball! “Crap! I need to get some lo...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> Curtis examined himself in the mirror. The spot was definitely getting bigger. Why today of all days? The day of the High School Summer ball!<br /> <br /> “Crap! I need to get some lotion for that.” moaned the teenager, reaching for his jacket.<br /> <br /> He plodded down the busy street in search of a pharmacists. He spied the familiar green cross on the sign at the end of the street, and hoped it was open. It wasn’t!<br /> <br /> Curtis spun around, hoping to find somewhere else. A grocers perhaps? Or a supermarket. He hadn’t lived in Swansdown for very long, and wasn’t familiar with the town yet. It had been difficult making new friends at school, and now with a chance of going to his first School prom with Susan – the girl of his dreams – he wasn’t going to let a poxy blackhead ruin it for him. <br /> <br /> Curtis was about to give up when he spied a small shop front, with a tatty sign hanging above the door. It was mainly painted in strange oriental writing, but underneath was written:<br /> <br /> &quot;Chinese Herbal Medicines: For All Your Needs!”<br /> <br /> “Excellent!” cried Curtis, and he swiftly crossed the street and entered the small shop.<br /> <br /> Behind the counter sat a wizened oriental gentleman, the classic Chinese stereotype from a Hollywood movie of the Fifties.<br /> <br /> “Vot can I do vor you yong sir?” said the man with a voice to match his comic book appearance.<br /> <br /> “Um – I need some cream to clear my skin up.” said Curtis, pointing to his face.<br /> <br /> “I see...” whispered the man, “and vot is the problem viv vor skin?”<br /> <br /> “Ain’t it obvious?” moaned Curtis, “I’ve got spots the size of the Millennium Dome on my face, and it’s my school prom tonight. I’m gonna be in my best black and whites, but it’s gonna be a real killer with this though” <br /> <br /> “I have just the ving for you my child.” said the man, and he reached under the counter and pulled out a small pot. It was covered in strange Chinese writing.<br /> <br /> “What’s that?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “A simple lotion yong sir. It will smooth vor skin, and make you a real killer in yor in black and whites.” he replied.<br /> <br /> “Excellent! I’ll take it.” said Curtis, “How much is it?”<br /> <br /> “To you sir, nothing.” said the kindly man, “I feel you need a free sample first.” Curtis thanked the man and left. Not only had he saved his hot date, but it had cost him nothing either. <br /> <br /> Racing home, Curtis hurried to the bathroom to rub the cream onto his face. The pot contained a strange pink substance that looked like strawberry custard. Curtis dipped his fingers in and smeared a drop of cream onto his spot. It tingled slightly, and then was absorbed. Curtis stared in wonder as the acne shrank back into the skin, and vanished. Looking down at his hands, Curtis also noticed that they too were tingling. His jaw dropped. A small cut on his finger faded and healed; and all his skin on his hand turned a smooth, attractive shade of pale pink.<br /> <br /> Curtis scooped out a whole handful of cream, and smeared it all over his face. He waited for the tingling to ease, and then squealed with joy as all his acne, freckles and moles disappeared under a uniform hue. It was a little pale for Curtis’s true liking, but it was better than being a pizza face.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to stare as not only did the colour of his skin fade, but also the flesh began to fill out slightly – not enough to look strange, but sufficient to give his once scrawny face the look of a well-trained athlete.<br /> <br /> “Bloody wow!” shouted Curtis, “That crazy old man was right! I’m gonna be a stud!”<br /> <br /> Curtis poured about half of the contents of pot into the bath, and then turned on the taps. The mixture fizzed and bubbled in the warm water. Curtis was getting excited. There would be no way that Susan was going to be able to resist him tonight. Stripping off, Curtis jumped in the bath and began to soak in the strange lotion. He felt like his whole body was covered in pins and needles, but not enough to cause discomfort. After about half an hour, he got out and dried himself. Curtis looked at his body. Nothing was happening. Why? <br /> <br /> “Blast! Perhaps the water diluted it too much?” he sighed.<br /> <br /> Curtis got dressed, and feeling somewhat dejected, plodded downstairs. Flicking on the TV, Curtis nestled in his favourite comfy armchair. It was late afternoon, and there was very little worth watching. Slowly but surely, Curtis drifted off to sleep.<br /> <br /> CLUNK!<br /> <br /> The remote control fell onto the floor, waking Curtis. How long had he been asleep? Curtis fumbled for the remote control in the evening gloom, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He tried to stand up, but found himself wedged in between the arms of the chair. <br /> <br /> “What the hell?” said Curtis aloud. Flicking on the table lamp next to him, Curtis was shocked to see that he had gained a lot of weight since falling asleep.<br /> <br /> “Cooool!” squealed Curtis, “The potions’ working! A little fat, but that will tone up – I hope.”<br /> <br /> Curtis sat up, looking at his hands. He wasn’t sure, but they were definitely smooth, and larger than before. Funny, they even seemed a bit shiny. Starting to feel a little uneasy, Curtis tried to get to his feet again. He looked down at his legs. His thighs were continuing to swell inside his jeans, giving him the appearance of a blue balloon in a vice. The arms of the chair were beginning to groan, and Curtis pushed hard on them. Finally, like a cork coming out of bottle, he sprung out and landed in a heap on the floor. <br /> <br /> “Ouch!” <br /> <br /> Waddling upstairs, made more difficult with his legs rubbing together, Curtis looked at his watch. Becoming breathless, he halted at the top. <br /> <br /> “God, what’s happening to me? I’m a blimp.” squealed Curtis. <br /> <br /> He squeezed into his bedroom – only just managing to get through the door. Curtis fumbled with his belt, suddenly finding his fingers fusing together. It was like wearing thick plastic mittens. The discomfort started getting worse, and Curtis started to get anxious. He collapsed onto his bed, scattering his school books as he fell. Buttons started to pop off as he pawed at the fastenings.<br /> <br /> With a loud crack, the seams of his jeans split lengthways. Curtis was stunned to see his legs had turned mottled white, and were silky smooth. With one last Herculean effort, Curtis peeled off his ruined clothes, and stared at his body. The sight that greeted him was not quite what he was hoping for. Instead of a chiselled hunk with smooth skin, Curtis’s body was bloated, and was a strange greyish colour. Dark blotches were forming on his back and legs, and there was a reddish lump on his spine.<br /> <br /> “Oh hell!” cried Curtis, starting to panic. The dark blotches were now reaching his face as he watched. This was not what he had been planning. What was happening to him? Curtis glanced at the clock. <br /> <br /> “Nearly eight! The prom starts at eight thirty!” Curtis opened his wardrobe, and pulled out his eveningwear. No time to worry now – whatever he looked like. He must get to the school or Susan would surely dump him. <br /> <br /> Curtis waddled over to his bed, and sat down. Picking up the smart black trousers, he squeezed his swelling legs in. The same with the shirt, jacket, socks, shoes and lastly bow tie. It was tight around his neck, and Curtis did his best to leave it with a loose a knot as possible.<br /> <br /> When Curtis reached the school, he feet were already aching. His shiny black shoes were crushing his feet, and worse still...... his abdomen was filling the crotch of his trousers – pushing them down, fighting with the belt keeping them up.<br /> <br /> Curtis walked up to the hall door, and handed the doorman his ticket.<br /> <br /> “Wearing gloves on a warm evening like this?” asked the doorman.<br /> <br /> “What?” asked Curtis, but upon looking at his hands, saw what the man was talking about. Curtis’s hands had turned black, the fingers disappearing into what looked like a flipper.<br /> <br /> “Urrrrr..... y-yes.... I’ve got a rash....” stuttered Curtis, and he hurried into the hall. He looked around for Susan in the crowded room. He saw her talking to Mickey Pearce, the class hunk and Curtis arch rival for Susan’s affections.<br /> <br /> “Geez, what happened to you?” asked Susan haughtily, pointing to Curtis’s bloated body.<br /> <br /> “Sorry – I’ve not been well.” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Looks like he’s been stuffing his fat gob too much.” smirked Mickey.<br /> <br /> “No, it’s not like that...... I’ve just got a bit of puppy fat.” replied Curtis hesitantly, all the time feeling the pressure on his body increase. Suddenly, Curtis arched his neck back as a surge of pain ran up his spine. There was a loud tearing sound as a black dorsal fin shot out of Curtis’s back.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” cried Susan.<br /> <br /> Curtis ran out of the doors, feeling his shoes explode of his feet. He shuddered in the men’s toilets, hoping the ground would swallow him up, or that he would awake from this nightmare. No such luck. Suddenly swelling rounder as if pumped full of gas, Curtis boomed out of his smart suit, and became squeezed between the walls of the cubicle he was hiding in.<br /> <br /> CRACK!<br /> <br /> The wooden partition walls gave way, and Curtis flopped out on to the ceramic floor. His legs merged with his arse, forming a huge tail. His arms shrank back into body, swelling as they went. Before long, the boy that had been Curtis was now a stranded killer whale. Turning his beady eye to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror, Curtis had to admit that he did look good in black and white.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> PART 2<br /> <br /> Craig looked across the room. Being 21, he was the oldest reveller by nearly six years. All these kids were at their first proper school prom, most with dates. Why had this part of his life passed him by? He had never had a date for any of his school proms, and now – in his last year at University, he was still spending his Saturday night chaperoning a bunch of teenagers. Perhaps he spent too much time reading his books on wonders of the sea to notice those around him.<br /> <br /> There was a small commotion across the other side of the room, and Craig saw someone running through the double-doors that lead to the rest rooms. Worried that there might have been a fight, he trotted over to the entrance. He saw Susan, a girl who was allegedly dating Craig’s new next-door neighbour’s son, Curtis. Susan was crying, and being consoled by a number of her friends.<br /> <br /> “What’s the matter?” asked Craig to one of them.<br /> <br /> “Someone played a sick practical joke on her.” said the school stud, Mickey Pearce.<br /> <br /> “What do you mean?” asked Craig.<br /> <br /> “It was that pesky new kid Curtis from Swansdown. He put some kind of fake Halloween knife under his jacket that sprung out as if he’d been stabbed. The coward ran off when poor Susan screamed.” replied Mickey.<br /> <br /> “Where is he now?” enquired Craig.<br /> <br /> “Dunno, perhaps the little creep ran home?”<br /> <br /> Suddenly there was a loud crash from the rest room.<br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> The giant killer whale squirmed on the cold concrete floor, desperately trying to shift its massive bulk towards the door, even though it had very little chance of ever squeezing through that narrow entrance. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Craig stared in disbelief at the orca that filled the rest room. <br /> <br /> “Oh, Curtis, what have you done?” he said. The killer whale, looking forlornly at the young man, tried to speak. <br /> <br /> “My God Craig, what happened here?” shouted a moustachioed man standing in the hallway.<br /> <br /> “Um, I think this is someone’s sick practical joke, but God knows how they managed it.” replied Craig quickly.<br /> <br /> “Right, this is Cartwright’s doing. That spoilt 9th Grader’s parents work in the zoo. We must get this poor creature out of here before it suffocates.”<br /> <br /> “It’s not a fish, Principal.” replied Craig. “It’s a mammal. But it will die here anyway if we don’t moved it.”<br /> <br /> “Yes, yes – I know that!” shouted the Principal, “Now is no time for a biology lecture.” He rushed back into the corridor to summon help, whilst Craig knelt by the struggling giant, and rubbed his hands along its smooth skin.<br /> <br /> “Oh Curtis, what have you gotten yourself into?” asked Craig, as he pulled off the remnants of a dinner jacket from the orca’s dorsal fin.<br /> <br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> It took nearly an hour for the Fire service to arrive with their heavy lifting equipment. The Principal had questioned Cartwright about the incident, but the boy seemed as dumbstruck as everyone else. Word had quickly spread through the prom that somehow there was a real killer whale in the toilets. Parents were called, and the night closed prematurely. Craig stayed with the helpless beast all the time. The roof of the rest room had to be dismantled quickly, and the crane plucked the whale out of the tight confines of the room.<br /> <br /> All the fireman, teachers and police were at a loss to even contemplate how it had happened, but the fact of the matter was that they DID have a killer whale to contend with. Craig volunteered to help with the transportation, having a good knowledge of marine life (from his studies) – and also he had no date to take home anyway. Also, Craig suspected the truth.<br /> <br /> Alone in the back of lorry, Craig poured handfuls of saltwater over the killer whale’s back to keep it moist. He was slightly worried that the salt solution was too concentrated – as it made his own hands tingle as he rubbed it onto the orca’s drying skin, which showed signs of fading to grey as it dehydrated.<br /> <br /> “Curtis, I don’t know how you managed to do this – but you are a lucky person.” said Craig. The killer whale let out a mournful, single squeak. <br /> <br /> “I guessed you had gotten yourself into something. If only you could tell me how you managed this?”<br /> <br /> The killer whale said nothing this time, not even a click.<br /> <br /> Craig continued to caress the unfortunate Curtis, as the lorry and its police escort made its way to the coast. The Press had already been alerted, and were waiting at the dock. The lorry shuddered to a halt, and raised voices could be heard from outside. Flashlights illuminated the sides of lorry. Suddenly, the back door flew open. The continued flashing of the lights startled the killer whale, who rocked from side to side.<br /> <br /> “Stop it Curtis. It’s only cameras.” whispered Craig, but it was too late. The lorry’s tyre, already perilously close to the edge of the dock, slipped on the wet concrete, and the lorry plunged over into the icy water. Craig and one of the fireman were taken with it. <br /> <br /> The water was pitch black, and Craig had hit his head in the fall. The huge orca began to pound the canvass sides of the lorry, desperate to get out.<br /> <br /> Craig, semi-conscious, fumbled with the straps holding him in – but his hands were already numb with cold. He could just made out Curtis the killer whale tearing his way through the woven cover of the lorry’s roof.<br /> <br /> “Wait for me.” thought Craig in desperation. He had removed the last strap blocking his way, but then he noticed that his foot was trapped by the stretcher used to lift Curtis. <br /> <br /> “I’m going to die....” thought Craig, and he shut his eyes.<br /> <br /> Just then, a strange warm feeling flooded through his tired and aching body. He opened his eyes to see Curtis had returned, but perhaps he was hallucinating? The once massive orca was now a fairly plump dolphin, and shrinking all the time. As Craig watched in the murky water, what had once been a large black and white orca was now a grinning dolphin. Whilst this had been happening, Craig had failed to notice that he was no longer drowning.<br /> <br /> Curtis the dolphin swam back into the lorry, and nuzzled the stretcher sledge, freeing Craig. Curtis turned around, and offered his tail to Craig as a tow. Craig tried to grab hold of the tail to help pull himself out, but found his arms were very numb. He also felt something digging into his sides, and he fumbled around to find out that it was his belt. In the gloom, Craig saw his belly bulging around the leather strap and buckle, straining the buttons on his shirt and trousers.<br /> <br /> “Yesssssss….” hissed Craig.<br /> <br /> Trying to free himself from his constraining clothes, Craig found his arms stiffening into hard fins. Curtis nuzzled Craig again, which accelerated the transformation in Craig. Bulking up quickly, Craig torso blasted open his shirt and the seams of his trousers. Only his belt stubbornly refused to split. Craig felt his head starting his shift on his neck, forcing it to point straight forward. <br /> <br /> “Oh my, oh my, oh my...” squealed Craig in his mind. “It can’t be?”<br /> <br /> It was!<br /> <br /> With his legs slimming and merging into a sleek tail, Craig was able to wriggle out of his chaffing belt. Soon he was free to join Curtis in the open sea.<br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> The official report stated that tragic news that young Craig Connery died whilst freeing a stranded orca. The trapped fireman reported that just before he was rescued, he noticed dolphins trying to help – but no one ever saw the young man again. Later in the week, the disappearance of schoolboy Curtis Suraci was assumed to have been another runaway. Only the two dancing dolphins on the horizon knew the truth………….</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Wacky_Baccy&diff=3209 2007-10-06T12:32:49Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis “Hey Curtis! We’ve got some real good stuff for tonight. You must try some.” said Tim, holding up a bag of green, shredded leaves. “Not again.” replied Curtis, ...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> <br /> “Hey Curtis! We’ve got some real good stuff for tonight. You must try some.” said Tim, holding up a bag of green, shredded leaves.<br /> <br /> “Not again.” replied Curtis, “You know I don’t touch that stuff.”<br /> <br /> “Ah, but this is different.” chortled Tim, “This stuff is direct from Tibet. It is herbal. Good for you. The Buddhist monks swear by it!” <br /> <br /> “I’m sure they do. How did you get hold of it.” sighed Curtis.<br /> <br /> “My usual place. What of it?” interjected Roland, somewhat abruptly.<br /> <br /> “Oh leave him.” said Jon. “He just can’t handle having fun.”<br /> <br /> “There’s more to fun than stuffing your brain full of harmful fumes!” sneered Curtis, his patience weakening. “Anyway, can’t you smoke that somewhere else? It stinks the place out, and I don’t particularly want to get arrested if you get caught.”<br /> <br /> “For heaven’s sake!” screamed Roland. “Are you deliberately trying to become my mother?”<br /> <br /> “Shut up Roland” retorted Curtis. “You are always harping on about human rights and people’s free choice – so why don’t you ever respect my free choice?”<br /> <br /> “I was talking about ‘human’ rights, not freaks like you.... Curty-wurty” smirked Roland, obviously pleased with his own wit. Curtis refused to lose his temper, and skulked off to his room, cursing under his breath.<br /> <br /> “Awww, Roland. We were suppose to get him to join us.” moaned Tim. “We’re never gonna get him high with that attitude.”<br /> <br /> “He’s the one with the attitude problem.” grumbled Roland. <br /> <br /> It was not long before the downstairs was again full of pungent smoke, and dazed students – spouting a whole raft of half-baked, extreme left-wing philosophies. Meanwhile, Curtis sat at his computer, flicking across his various files, listening the voices downstairs, secretly wishing that he too could join in with them and to hell with responsibilities. <br /> <br /> He could actually smell their new herbs, the faint wisps of which were filtering under his bedroom door. They didn’t smell too bad – being rather fruity in fact. The smoke, however, was tinged green – which made Curtis uneasy. He got up from his chair, and wedged a blanket along the threshold of his door – hoping that it would at least block out some of the fumes.<br /> <br /> Fighting the growing numbness in his limbs, he plonked his body back in front of his computer. He remembered that he had not yet read Bryan’s pending e-mail digest from the fantasy writers. It was the usual stuff. Comparison of group member’s werewolf stories, alerts about up-and-coming scenes in network shows in the USA, a few in-house jokes between the friendly subscribers – nothing out of the ordinary.<br /> <br /> “Oh well.” sighed Curtis, scratching his head. “I’ll submit something when I get a chance to write it.”<br /> <br /> It was at this point that the voices downstairs went very quiet. This grabbed Curtis’s attention. He knew from past experience that after a while, any sensible conversation between his doped friends petered out after an hour or so, but it was usually followed by sniggering and stupid animal noises. Not total silence. Switching off his PC, Curtis strained his ears to hear anything. Still nothing! <br /> <br /> “Good, peace at last.” thought Curtis, flopping onto his bed.<br /> <br /> Curtis rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The Sun was already half way up the skyline, and the outside noise of traffic and pedestrians reverberated around the room. The alarm clock had once again failed in its one and only duty of the morning.<br /> <br /> “Thank god it’s Saturday.” murmured Curtis, falling out of bed and crawling to the door on his knees. He reached up, pulling his dressing gown down off its hook – which only resulted in it falling on top of him. “Drats!”<br /> <br /> There was no sign of Roland in his room, which Curtis found odd. Curtis himself was not especially an early starter in the mornings – but Roland never usually surfaced before the afternoon. Curtis did, however, find Roland sprawled out on the living room floor – grinning, and fast asleep. Curtis turned back into the kitchen; and with the last of the milk, poured himself a large bowl of cereal. Returning to the living room, Curtis collapsed into a chair. His stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels, and the addition of milk and shredded wheat did little to placate it. <br /> <br /> “Wake up fatso!” called Curtis, prodding Roland in the ribs with his foot.<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone......” grumbled Roland, not opening his eyes.<br /> <br /> “Suit yourself....” came the reply, and Curtis looked around for the television remote control. He saw it a few feet away from his chair, poking out under a pile of shredded paper. Being too lazy to get up, Curtis tried to reach it with his feet – eventually getting a grip with two toes, and pulled it back towards his chair. In the process of doing this, he accidentally switched the television on. Much to Curtis’s delight, it was the time for the children’s cartoons.<br /> <br /> “Coooool!” said Curtis, snuggling back into the padded armchair. <br /> <br /> The day dragged on. Roland took himself to bed, to sleep off the after-effects of having slept all day. Curtis meanwhile, had got dressed and begun tidying up Roland’s mess.<br /> He was amazed at how three blokes could have created so much chaos in one evening. Furniture had been knocked over, newspaper torn to pieces and food tipped liberally all over the floor.<br /> <br /> “I should’ve kept an eye on them.” thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Leave that alone!” shouted Roland’s voice from the hall. Curtis spun around to Roland glaring at him through the doorway. He was clad, rather unceremoniously, only in his boxer shorts – but he had such a vicious stare on his face that any comedy value was soon lost.<br /> <br /> “W-what’s the problem?” asked Curtis, “I was only clearing up.”<br /> <br /> “Just stop treating me like a bloody kid!” snarled Roland, his face even more contorted in rage.<br /> <br /> “Okay then... but I do live here too.” snapped Curtis, pushing past Roland.<br /> <br /> “Pity!” said Roland unkindly. Curtis just sneered back, and went back to his room. Roland waited until Curtis was shut his door, before walking into the living room – and squatting atop the pile of cushions and newspaper, his eyes fixed in a steely glare at the door.<br /> <br /> Curtis fired up his computer, his only real outlet at times of stress. Roland’s attitude had not only annoyed Curtis, but had also slightly unsettled him as well. Roland could be a pain – but he was never really that aggressive before. Curtis decided that it would be wisest to steer well clear of his housemate for the rest of the day. Curtis hadn’t seen Roland all day. The mess in the living room, remained. In fact, it had grown. Shreds of cloth now adorned the pile, as well as the contents of some foam cushions.<br /> <br /> “Geez. This is getting ridiculous!” bemoaned Curtis, getting a plastic sack, and started filling it with the rubbish. Just at that point, Roland, Tim and Jon piled in through the front door, laughing and snorting. <br /> <br /> “Hmmmm. Shit – this is great yeah!” said Tim, taking another puff of his cigarette.<br /> Jon’s bloodshot eyes belied his growing state of intoxication. Roland wobbled about on his unsteady legs.<br /> <br /> “Evening.” said Curtis quietly. All three stopped in their tracks, glaring into the living room at Curtis, filling the bag with the rubbish.<br /> <br /> “Leave that alone!” shouted Roland, and he lunged at Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey, cut it out.” said Curtis as Roland grabbed him by the shoulder.<br /> <br /> “You are gonna pay for that.” shouted Roland, trying to snatch the bag away from Curtis. Tim and Jon just stood in the doorway, smirking and smoking. Finally Roland managed to wrestle the bag from Curtis, and empty its contents back onto the floor.<br /> <br /> “Hell Roland, what’s the matter with you?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “You are!” shouted Roland, “You are always bloody interfering with my life. Always spoiling everything. Always being the good boy scout.”<br /> <br /> “I was never a scout.” said Curtis, “And beside – I’m aloud to do what I like. I am paying half the rent here remember.”<br /> <br /> Roland said nothing, but stormed back into the hallway. Tim and Jon joined him in the kitchen, whilst the green smoke wafted around.<br /> <br /> “Hey... you are not smoking that crap again?” roared Curtis as the pungent odour reached his nose.<br /> <br /> “What of it?” replied Roland aggressively. <br /> <br /> “I’ll tell you what!” shouted Curtis as he stormed into the kitchen, snatching the spliff out of Roland’s mouth, “It is illegal, it is unhealthy – an it makes me feel sick.”<br /> <br /> “You make me sick!” retorted Roland, causing Tim and Jon to laugh girlishly.<br /> <br /> “You are going to be sorry.” said Curtis harshly, and he turned to go to his room. Roland blew a puff of green smoke behind Curtis. The strange fumes danced around Curtis’s head, and he stumbled.<br /> <br /> “Oh, stay down here Curty-wurty.” sneered Roland, “Smoke with us – and you’ll have a wild time.”<br /> Curtis staggered to his feet, waves of nausea flowing over him.<br /> <br /> “Leave me alone......” cried Curtis, and he ran to his room. <br /> <br /> The next morning, Curtis ventured back downstairs. He stared at Roland, fast asleep atop his nest of cloth, paper and cushions – and sporting a large plume of feathers from the top of his head.<br /> <br /> “A fine practical joke.” thought Curtis. He walked over to Roland, who was snoring painfully loudly. As Curtis watched, Roland rolled over onto his side – revealing a huge tear in the back of his t-shirt. On closer inspection, Curtis could see that Roland had two distinct lumps on his shoulder blades, all blistered and red.<br /> <br /> “That’s not right?” thought Curtis. <br /> <br /> “Time to get up Roland!” he shouted. Roland opened one eye, and grinned.<br /> <br /> “It was a good night last night. You should’ve stayed” he whispered, and sat up.<br /> <br /> “What were you doing? Look at you.” said Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Look at me what?” replied Roland, raising a downy eyebrow to his housemate.<br /> <br /> “Look at you - I said! You look like a bloody bird!” <br /> <br /> “That’s funny.” said Roland lazily. “I was dreaming about getting inside Julia when you woke me up.”<br /> <br /> “Not girls. A real bird.” interrupted Curtis. Roland slowly got to his feet and wandered into the kitchen – to take a look at himself in the mirror.<br /> <br /> “OOOHHHHHHH SHHHIIIIIIIITTTTT!” came the cry.<br /> <br /> “See what I mean” called Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god! This is a joke right?” gabbled Roland, clutching his face – feeling his teeth slowly push down onto his bottom lip – getting longer and wider. <br /> <br /> “You tell me – party animal?” retorted Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Hey man. Help me!” squawked Roland, the bulges in his back expanding with sickening cracks and crunches.<br /> <br /> “It’s not my fault.” replied Curtis, “Must have been something you smoked.” <br /> <br /> <br /> * * *<br /> <br /> Jon and Tim lay slumped on their hall floor, where they had managed to stumble to the night before. As if on cue, they both awoke together.<br /> <br /> “Wooooo.... I need a drink” stammered Tim, getting up and pushing past Jon for the front door.<br /> <br /> “You can’t go out!” called Jon after him. “looking like that!”<br /> <br /> “That’s good coming from you.... yeti boy!” laughed Tim.<br /> <br /> “What?” asked Jon, putting his hands up to his face. To his horror, he saw tufts of thick white and brown hair on his wrists. On touching his face, he found that he now had bushy sideburns that now reached his chin.<br /> <br /> “What’s happened to us? It’s that bloody muck we were smoking last night.” roared Jon.<br /> <br /> “Can’t be! What makes you think that? It was only some Tibetan grass. Ask Roland. He bought it.” said Tim, grabbing his jacket from the rack. His clothes, however, hung very loose over his hunched body. The cuffs of his trousers were already dragging on the floor. <br /> <br /> “Don’t leave me.” called Jon, but Tim stormed out – slamming the door behind him. <br /> <br /> Jon wandered into the bathroom, and lifted up his shirt. The strange fur was now covering his stomach and chest now. It pricked and tickled his skin, and made him uncomfortably hot. Replacing the shirt, Jon pulled down his jeans, and saw to his dismay that his legs too were covered in the same matted brown blanket. He was also getting bigger. His shirt was being pulled snugly over his back and chest. Quickly stripping naked, Jon turned around to see what the reflection of his back looked like. Not only was it covered in fur to the same extent as the rest of him – it also was developing a noticeable arch, pushing him forwards as he watched.<br /> <br /> “Oh shit!” he yelped. “I must get some help now. Blast you Tim!”<br /> <br /> Jon pulled up his jeans, and with great difficulty fastened them around his swelling butt. Limping back to his room, he put on some shoes and a loose shirt. His shoes were uncomfortably tight, and getting tighter even as he put them on. Taking one last look in the mirror, he saw his nose widen – and his ears grow tufts of hair at the tips. <br /> <br /> Jon staggered downstairs, grasping the banister for support. Walking was becoming difficult – but he made it to the front door. Where now? Roland’s? <br /> <br /> Jon walked along the street, feeling his clothes begin to constrain him. There was definitely something growing in the seat of his jeans, and it tickled like hell. There was no sign of Tim anywhere. In fact, the road was pretty deserted. Jon started off towards Roland’s place – which was only about a quarter of an hour away. <br /> <br /> Jon winced and limped his way along the pavement as the bones in his feet crunched and shifted. However, he could only walk about another ten yards before he was forced to sit on a low wall, and tug off his trainers. His feet seemed to be all knotted under his socks, with the outline of his toes becoming indistinct even as he tried to wiggle them. Anything past the ball of his foot was now numb. Slowly, Jon replaced his shoes and carried on, but left them laced loosely.<br /> <br /> It was a bright sunny day – and Jon was wondering how Tim had managed to be so quick in getting away. Sure, Tim had left about five minutes before him, but the long, straight road to Roland’s house stretched a good ten minute walk in front of him – and Tim was no where to be seen. Jon was convinced that this hairy problem had something to do with the ‘wacky baccy’ he and his friends had smoked the night before – but from his limited knowledge of biology he knew nothing could cause an effect like this. Perhaps he was hallucinating everything? No, the growing pain in his butt was proof against that.<br /> <br /> On reaching the park gate a few hundred yards up the street, Jon felt his heels shift up his leg – slipping out of the back of his shoes. He fell forwards, grabbing onto the lamppost for support. Then......... SCHLUEKKK!!! Jon’s shoes and socks suddenly burst open with a sickening rip – revealing a pair of impressive black hooves, which clattered on the concrete path. Jon was actually relieved for at least some of the pressure on his body to have eased.<br /> <br /> “Oh bloody hell!” moaned Jon, “Roland and Tim are gonna pay for this.”<br /> <br /> The fur over his body was getting thicker – causing terrible itching; made all the more worse by him trying to scratch it through his clothing. Jon winced as his lower spine extended into the seat of his already stuffed jeans. His tail, for that is what it was, was folding over on itself in layers of long bristly hair and cartilage. It felt like having a rather hairy cushion pushed down his pants. Jon’s attention, however, was more attracted by the swelling of his joy department in the front of his jeans. The feeling of arousal was like nothing he had experienced before – not even the first time he had had sex was as good as this. Looking down, Jon saw what looked like an erotic football gradually bulking up behind his zipper.<br /> <br /> Jon clopped along the pavement, hoping that passers by would assume he was wearing a pair of ski boots – albeit in spring. The tingling in his spine continued, as his silky tail gradually pushed its way down the left leg of his jeans. Fur was now started to spurt out of his collar, and onto his hands – which were now also becoming numb at the fingertips. Jon continued to try and scratch the itching over his changing frame – with little success.<br /> <br /> He looked up to see a nearby bus stop. Perhaps he could get a ride to Roland’s – before he changed completely. He tried to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, but he could not squeeze his hand in to grab it. The pressure of his tightening clothes was now becoming unbearable. Jon’s front door keys in his jeans’ pocket were now digging into his leg like small claws. His shoulders swelled – cramming the sleeves of his shirt to form powerful forelegs. His belly forced itself outwards with each breath, pushing his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and straining the buttons.<br /> <br /> “I must get these bloody clothes off!” cried Jon, stumbling down a side alley as another wave of growth struck him. Now on his knees, he frantically pulled at the taut fabric - trying to find a loose fastening somewhere, but his hands had already begun to fuse at the knuckles. The cuffs of his jeans wouldn’t fit over his hooves in any case now. Tugging at his leather belt, Jon realised that it was now far too tight to be unbuckled. The zip too, had been engorged rigid by his monstrous manhood, which continued to bulge more and more. Jon felt that the tip of his tail was now almost down to his ankles. Finally there was a small popping of seams, and the top of his tail forced its way out of the back of his jeans, and swished around in the cool air.<br /> <br /> “Oh sod it, how am I gonna hide that now?” thought Jon, pulling himself upright with the help of a dustbin, “I knew I should have stayed in bed today......”<br /> <br /> Jon recovered his composure as the sudden wave of change eased. He tried to push the end of his tail into the waistband of his jeans – but there was no spare room in them at all, so he was forced to let it swish behind him and hoped no one would notice. By glancing at this swollen frame, Jon was sure he must have put on nearly a hundred pounds in weight in the last five minutes. If only he could make it to Roland’s place before he was all horse; not that Roland could do much for him. <br /> <br /> Jon clopped along the path, trying to look inconspicuous as his head grew longer and thinner. People stared at him, some pointed – but no one said anything. Fortunately, it was not unusual to see students dressed in furry animal costumes walking about – usually for charity or something similar. It seemed like an eternity – but eventually Jon made it to Roland’s front door. He thumped on the wood with his front hooves, braying at the top of his new voice.<br /> Curtis opened the door, and smiled at the equine Jon. <br /> <br /> “Ah ha, it’s Jon.” said Curtis, turning to look back into the room. Jon strained his warped neck to follow Curtis’s view. He saw a huge, black bird – like a mutant raven, shifting around in the living room.<br /> <br /> “Hey Jon, why the long face?” chortled Curtis, taking his horsy friend by the hoof and pulling him into the house.<br /> <br /> “As you can see, Roland’s is a pretty impressive crow now. Too bad he can’t fly. As for you, you are looking a bit horse.” Curtis was loving this. His dope-smoking friends were paying the price for their taunting. “And where is young Timothy?” continued Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Heeeeee’s nooooooot heeeeeeere alllredddy?” brayed Jon.<br /> <br /> “Nope. Just us.” replied Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Awwwww. I woooonderrrrr whatsssss haaaaaappened toooooo him?”<br /> <br /> Curtis walked away from Jon and Roland, and sat back in his armchair. <br /> <br /> “This is a fine pickle you’ve landed me in.” said Curtis. “You can’t stay here. Roland’s gonna start moulting soon, and you Jon – need a stable.”<br /> <br /> Roland said nothing, but Jon piped up “Heeeeeey! Aren’t yoooooooou wooooondeeeering hooow thissss hhhhappppennnned? I am!”<br /> <br /> “No, not really old boy. I assume it’s one of three things. I’m dreaming. You’re dreaming, or Roland’s dreaming.” explained Curtis.<br /> <br /> “I’m nooooot dreeaming!” said Jon, giving Curtis a look of disdain on his bizarre equine face. <br /> <br /> “Are you sure?” asked Curtis. “Did you ever hear about the man who dreamt his was frog. When he awoke, he didn’t know whether he was a man who had just dreamt of being a frog, or a frog who was dreaming he was now a man.” <br /> <br /> Suddenly, Jon screwed his face up as he began to change again. His head grew outwards, his hair sprouting into an impressive mane along his elongated neck. His buttocks and thighs then pumped up like balloons – stretching his jeans further until they exploded off in shreds. His torso followed suit – first popping off the buttons on his shirt, and then splitting the back and sleeves. Jon then fell forward onto all fours, and a few seconds later looked just like a normal, young stallion.<br /> <br /> “There now. Isn’t that better?” said Curtis calmly, “Fancy some carrots?”<br /> <br /> The horse just looked back blankly.<br /> <br /> “Go on Jon.... you don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve tried it” sneered Curtis.<br /> <br /> The horse became agitated, and reared its head back. Curtis followed its gaze, to see Roland the Raven shrinking fast, and squawking as he went. Within seconds he was the size of a normal bird – and fluttering around the room in panic. Fortunately, the windows were all shut. Curtis looked around. Jon the Horse was nibbling a cushion, whilst Roland the Raven was defecating uncontrollably all over the carpet.<br /> <br /> “Hmmmm, nothing new there then.” giggled Curtis. <br /> <br /> There was a loud thumping on the sitting room window, and Curtis glanced up – to see an excited spaniel with a mop of curly hair pounding on the glass. <br /> <br /> “Ah, Tim’s turned up.” declared Curtis, who wandered over to the window and opened it. Tim scrambled into the room, wagging his tail. <br /> <br /> “Tim, are you still in there?” asked Curtis calmly. The spaniel just panted, and stuck its tongue out. <br /> <br /> “Well, looks like I’m the only one left standing – as usual.” sighed Curtis.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=3208 2007-10-06T12:30:33Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED CURTIS!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star (*) are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Stable_Manners&diff=3207 2007-10-06T12:30:08Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis As the two kissed, the Manor stable door was flung open. Gethin the farmer glaring at the startled young lovers. They hadn’t seen him in the dark of the New Moon creep up ...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> As the two kissed, the Manor stable door was flung open. Gethin the farmer glaring at the startled young lovers. They hadn’t seen him in the dark of the New Moon creep up to the Barn. Curtis the stable lad jumped back, whilst Sarah tried to gesture to her Uncle in apology.<br /> <br /> “You will pay for tarnishing my family’s honour.” Bellowed Gethin as he grabbed Sarah by the hair. Curtis tried to help his new girlfriend, but was flung back by Gethin’s strong left arm, and sprawled on to the floor. Gethin pushed Sarah into one of the stalls and clamped her arms into some loose shackles used for tethering excited mounts. Gethin then turned around and looked down at Curtis. <br /> <br /> “So, I took into my confidence, my stable – and this is how you repay me. Well, here you shall always remain, never to cast your wanton eye on a female again.” sneered Gethin.<br /> <br /> Gethin bent down, extended his index finger and touched Curtis on the hand. A strange tingling sensation flowed through the boy’s body. He rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach as a wave of pain hit him. Tears rolled down his eyes as Gethin just looked on, smiling. <br /> <br /> “Help him!” shouted Sarah, but Gethin ignored her. She tried to break free from her shackles, but it was hopeless. Curtis stared at his hands in horror. They looked as if they were melting, the skin and bone began to ooze downwards, and his palms inflated to absorb them. His nails turned black and fused further down his shrinking fingers. Curtis lifted them up to his face, scratching one with the other to try and feel his fingers. Tufts of white hair began to sprout from his wrists, just like those he had seen on Gethin’s horses.<br /> <br /> “Stop this please!” cried Curtis, but Gethin just walked casually over to the boy and rubbed him on the head. At that instance, Curtis’ ears began to itch, stretch and grow upwards – with sprigs of hair at their tops. Curtis squirmed uncomfortably on the floor. All his clothes began to feel far too constricting, pulling tightly about his arms, legs and torso. <br /> <br /> Gethin now began to massage Curtis’s neck, his fingers brushing through Curtis’s collar length hair. At that moment Curtis’s hair began to grow, not only from his head but down the length of his neck and under his t-shirt and denim jacket. Gethin then grabbed a hold of Curtis’s jacket collar and yanked him up on to all fours. Gethin then continued to rub his hands along Curtis’s back. Curtis wriggled in great discomfort as his back started to arch upwards, and his belly formed a paunch. <br /> <br /> Gethin then stroked Curtis’s sides, and they started to bulk up. His zipped up denim jacket now squeezed around him, the seams digging into his shoulders. Gethin now walked around to behind Curtis, and laid a hand on his rear end. Immediately, Curtis’s buttocks and thighs began to inflate inside his jeans, and he grimaced as the pressure grew and grew. His belt groaned under the strain, and the buckle exploded off, clattering onto the concrete floor. <br /> <br /> A wicked grin formed on Gethin’s face, and he stooped down by Curtis and rubbed the youth’s ankles. Soon there was a creaking sound, and Curtis’s white sneakers began to deform, the canvas and soles bulging outwards. Both Sarah and Curtis were crying now, but Curtis’s whimpers had a very wheezing edge. <br /> <br /> Gethin returned to Curtis’s belt line, and jabbed a finger directly between Curtis’s rear pockets. Now a new tail lump joined the already engorged spheres stuffed into the blue jeans. Some of the bristles were beginning to poke out from the top of the belt, however the bulk of it pushed down one of the legs of the jeans.<br /> <br /> The pain was becoming excruciating as Curtis grew bigger. He could feel his thighs being squashed by his jeans, and his shoulders ached to be free of his tightening jacket. Gethin reached over to the side of the stall, and grabbed a bridle. He forced the bit into Curtis’s mouth by holding his nose shut. As Curtis gasped, the bridle was pulled over his head and fastened behind his neck. Curtis face began to push forward into the muzzle, and he snorted in terror.<br /> <br /> Curtis was now getting much bigger, gaining about 100 lbs every minute. The canvas of his sneakers started to tear away. The laces snapped one by one, and deformed socks poked their way through the ripping shoes. Not long after his feet had emerged from the mess of rubber and canvas that were once his sneakers, the socks split open too. A pair of shiny hooves now scraped along the ground. <br /> <br /> Curtis’s clothes were starting to cut off the circulation to his arms and legs. Gethin, not wanting his prized new mare damaged, laid a hand on Curtis’s back and rubbed hard. His growth accelerated and soon stitches were beginning to pop in Curtis’s garments. Suddenly a large rip split in the back of the jacket. It grew with each breath, revealing the smooth brown horsehair back underneath. The sleeves, stretched to the point of bursting, could take no more and exploded off Curtis in a shower of denim rags.<br /> <br /> Curtis was now very much equine, his cries totally given way to whinnies. His huge muscular buttocks continued to try and expand their way through his jeans. Gethin began to kneed the horse’s behind and thighs. A small tear formed at the pockets of the jeans, and the seams split slowly down the length of the leg, every inch a blessed relief. Finally, with a thunderous boom – the seat of the jeans burst open and Curtis’s tail swished in the air.<br /> <br /> Gethin turned to Sarah with an evil grin, “Now it’s your turn my stallion!”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Sibling_Troubles&diff=3206 2007-10-06T12:29:35Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> <br /> Justin plonked down into the chair. He had cycled all the way to my house – and looked exhausted.<br /> <br /> “Hey, did you get anything to drink?” I asked expectantly.<br /> <br /> “Yeah, I managed to find this stuff in my Dad’s shed. It’s all he had.”<br /> <br /> Justin held up a couple of small green bottles. The poorly printed labels on them read:<br /> <br /> DREAM MAKER: “You’ll the object of your loved ones desires! It really brings out the animal in everyone!”<br /> <br /> “Cooool!” I exclaimed, “I could do with animal magic to stand a chance with Julia.”<br /> <br /> “No way pal! If anyone gonna pull her for the Summer Ball – its gonna be yours truly.” smirked Justin.<br /> <br /> “Sure....” I sighed. Why did Justin always think he was God’s gift to girls. Yes, he was probably the best looking bloke in class (not that I noticed things like that) but he was no Boy Band heartthrob either.<br /> <br /> “Where did your Dad get this stuff?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Dunno mate. Never seen him drink it. In fact Mum and Dad don’t drink much at all. It took two hours to find this. Dad spends ages in his shed – building furniture, or making illegal beer” grumbled Justin “He never has any time for me. I needed help on my wood work project – but he seemed totally disinterested. But he can always find time for my bloody little sister.”<br /> <br /> “Tell me about it.” I replied. “Mum and Dad dote over Jason; but me – they don’t even know exist half the time.”<br /> <br /> Justin passed me a bottle, and clinking together them in a vague toast to riding the World of parents and younger siblings, we took a gulp.<br /> <br /> “Hey, that tastes good.” said Justin, wiping a dribble off his chin.<br /> <br /> “I’m not too sure” I replied. The strange liquid seemed to have passed its best – whatever it may have been. Justin carried on drinking – virtually emptying the bottle, but I only took a few more sips. After about five minutes of idle chat, Justin started to squirm uneasily in the chair. He looked a little pale. To be truthful, I was feeling a bit queasy as well. We couldn’t be drunk – we had barely drunk a bottle in total. <br /> <br /> “Wooooo, I feel funny.” groaned Justin.<br /> <br /> “Me too!” I replied, as my stomach started doing somersaults. I tried to turn the subject onto something else. “What were you saying about your sister earlier. Did she get that pony for her birthday?”<br /> <br /> “No, Mum and Dad can’t afford it. They tried to explain to her – but the stubborn little cow wouldn’t listen. In the end, Dad promised her she would get one somehow.” replied Justin, now looking as if he was in pain.<br /> <br /> “You’re lucky,” I joked, “My little brother Jason wanted a real life gorilla for his birthday last month.”<br /> <br /> Jason had always been fascinated by gorillas. He had nearly twenty toy ones, all fluffy, stuffed and horrible. Gorilla posters covered his walls, and his e-mail address was something like gorillaboy@yahoo. He just needed a real one to collect the set. I was about to continue to downgrade my kid brother some more when I saw Justin put his hands to his face, and scratch. <br /> <br /> I stared at him. Something was wrong. His face looked rougher, hairy. <br /> <br /> “You need a shave.” I quipped. <br /> <br /> “I don’t! I shaved this morning.” he blurted back. <br /> <br /> Suddenly Justin stood up, shaking. In the gloom of my bedroom, I could see that Justin was changing, growing. His face began to push outwards, taking on the shape of a muzzle. A horse’s muzzle!<br /> <br /> “Hhhhelp me!” whinnied Justin, as his hair grew down his neck. Justin stood erect - shaking and crying. His neck stretched longer. I could see the buttons on his shirt begin to strain from the growing bulk they had to contain. His jeans were getting tighter, clearly showing the development of huge muscles in his legs. <br /> <br /> “Jesus Justin!” I shouted. “You’re turning into a fucking horse!”<br /> <br /> Suddenly his shoes burst open, but instead of feet – a pair of hooves clattered onto the wooden floor. I continued to gaze as Justin’s head took on more and more equine features. The change seemed to flow up and down his body. The buttons started popping off his shirt one by one as his chest barrelled outwards. Splits appeared in the shoulders and sleeves as Justin’s new equine limbs forced their way into the open air. His whole body was slowly growing a thin layer of silky smooth hair, or was it fur?<br /> <br /> “Doooooooott Scumthing!” cried Justin, his voice loosing more and more of his familiar sound. There was nothing I could do, but watch.<br /> <br /> The top button and zip burst off his jeans. Justin then fell forward onto all fours, splitting the seat of his jeans as he did so. Through the split in the material he swished his long tail. It was not long before the jeans had split all the way down, leaving Justin standing there in all his horsey glory. Dumbstruck, I just looked at the horse standing in my bedroom where my best friend had been a minute or two earlier. One thing was for sure, he certainly wouldn’t complain about his new tackle. He would be God’s gift to the girl’s now. <br /> I walked slowly over to him, and rubbed my hand over his back. He whinnied, but said nothing I could understand. It was then that I noticed my own hand looked rather dark and shiny itself. Staring in disbelief and horror, my hands turned black – with thick stubbly hair sprouting out of the skin on their backs.<br /> <br /> “No, not me too” I cried, falling to my knees. I could feel the pressure begin to build in my training shoes. I was tempted to pull my shoes off, but was too frightened to see what was happening. I curled my toes over, trying to stay within my shoes. I could feel my socks tearing inside as my feet developed what felt like thumbs. My jeans then started to bulge as my legs shortened and thickened, and the buckle of my leather belt burst open to accommodate my new gut.<br /> <br /> Then it all stopped. <br /> <br /> Regaining my composure, I looked back at Justin. He was a fine horse – a colt! He twitched his head, and opened his mouth – but only wheezes came out. I thought I could just make out a whisper of “Help.” <br /> <br /> I turned and looked in the mirror. My face was wider than I remembered, and my forehead hung over my eyes like the brow of a cap. Black hair covered a large part of my head – making it look like I had a full beard and sideburns. I opened my mouth to speak, but my attention was captivated by my new set of fang-like canines. My hands were black and leathery. I was also about two inches shorter. I was unmistakably turning into a gorilla – but I was not as far gone as Justin. All this from drinking some reject alcoholic lemonade, or at least that’s what I thought it was.<br /> <br /> “Come on!” I said, “We can’t stay here.” <br /> <br /> I put my hand on Justin’s long neck, and tried to direct him towards the stairs, picking up the half-empty bottles of Dream Maker as I went. His hooves clattered loudly on the wooden floor. Thank goodness everybody was out. He stumbled, trying to get purchase on the ground. He acted just like a newborn foal did as it got use to walking, only that he was a teenage horse – not a baby. I too found it difficult to walk properly. My thighs were much thicker, and rubbed together. My jeans were pulled so tightly around my knees I couldn’t bend them properly. My shoes also felt like they were several sizes too small. <br /> <br /> I had just about made it to the top of the stairs when the tingling sensation started in my body again. I cried in pain, and fright as my arms started to stretch out of my shirt, becoming longer than my legs. I fell over onto all fours like Justin had done, feeling all the more comfortable for doing so. I managed to rid myself of my constraining shoes by flexing my toes a couple of times.<br /> <br /> Eventually we made it downstairs. Fortunately, my parents’ garden backed onto a small wood. We could hide out there until we had figured what had happened to us. I sat on the log whilst Justin circled around, nibbling at the shrubs. I rested my head in my thick hands, trying to work out what was going on. <br /> <br /> Justin was a horse. Why? <br /> <br /> I was turning into a giant ape? Why? <br /> <br /> What, if anything, did it have to do with that Dream Maker drink?<br /> <br /> “That’s it!” I boomed. “You’ll become your loved one’s desire. Bloody Jason! He’s got his stinking gorilla now.”<br /> <br /> I heard a creaking sound. Looking down – I saw the fabric of my jeans stretch as my legs started to grow again. There was the sound of seams popping. The top button of my shirt also popped off.<br /> <br /> “This is no good. We must do something.” I moaned, turning to look at Justin. Justin just cocked his head on one side, and looked as if it grinned – or as much of a grin as a horse could give. <br /> <br /> “Justin – it’s me...... Simon. Are you in there?” <br /> <br /> The horse just turned away, and then continued munching a small bush.<br /> <br /> “Oh no! Justin’s lost it.” I moaned. “This is hopeless.”<br /> <br /> Suddenly there was a rustling in the trees, and a familiar figure walked into the clearing.<br /> <br /> “M-m-mum?”<br /> <br /> “My dear – you do make a very fine ape. And sweet Justin, Zoë will be pleased!”<br /> <br /> At that point Justin’s little sister Zoë came bounding into the woods, followed by her parents. She threw her arms around Justin, shouting “A pony! A pony! Thank you Mummy and Daddy!”<br /> <br /> I looked at my Mother in horror. She had now been joined by Dad and Jason. Jason was crying, and whispered in Dad’s ear.<br /> <br /> “You’re not quite what Jason was hoping for Simon. I’m afraid you’ll have to finish your drink.”<br /> <br /> THE END!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Sibling_Troubles&diff=3205 2007-10-06T12:28:56Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis Justin plonked down into the chair. He had cycled all the way to my house – and looked exhausted. “Hey, did you get anything to drink?” I asked expectantly. “Yea...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> <br /> Justin plonked down into the chair. He had cycled all the way to my house – and looked exhausted.<br /> <br /> “Hey, did you get anything to drink?” I asked expectantly.<br /> <br /> “Yeah, I managed to find this stuff in my Dad’s shed. It’s all he had.”<br /> <br /> Justin held up a couple of small green bottles. The poorly printed labels on them read:<br /> <br /> DREAM MAKER: “You’ll the object of your loved ones desires! It really brings out the animal in everyone!”<br /> <br /> “Cooool!” I exclaimed, “I could do with animal magic to stand a chance with Julia.”<br /> <br /> “No way pal! If anyone gonna pull her for the Summer Ball – its gonna be yours truly.” smirked Justin.<br /> <br /> “Sure....” I sighed. Why did Justin always think he was God’s gift to girls. Yes, he was probably the best looking bloke in class (not that I noticed things like that) but he was no Boy Band heartthrob either.<br /> <br /> “Where did your Dad get this stuff?” I asked.<br /> <br /> “Dunno mate. Never seen him drink it. In fact Mum and Dad don’t drink much at all. It took two hours to find this. Dad spends ages in his shed – building furniture, or making illegal beer” grumbled Justin “He never has any time for me. I needed help on my wood work project – but he seemed totally disinterested. But he can always find time for my bloody little sister.”<br /> <br /> “Tell me about it.” I replied. “Mum and Dad dote over Jason; but me – they don’t even know exist half the time.”<br /> <br /> Justin passed me a bottle, and clinking together them in a vague toast to riding the World of parents and younger siblings, we took a gulp.<br /> <br /> “Hey, that tastes good.” said Justin, wiping a dribble off his chin.<br /> <br /> “I’m not too sure” I replied. The strange liquid seemed to have passed its best – whatever it may have been. Justin carried on drinking – virtually emptying the bottle, but I only took a few more sips. After about five minutes of idle chat, Justin started to squirm uneasily in the chair. He looked a little pale. To be truthful, I was feeling a bit queasy as well. We couldn’t be drunk – we had barely drunk a bottle in total. <br /> <br /> “Wooooo, I feel funny.” groaned Justin.<br /> <br /> “Me too!” I replied, as my stomach started doing somersaults. I tried to turn the subject onto something else. “What were you saying about your sister earlier. Did she get that pony for her birthday?”<br /> <br /> “No, Mum and Dad can’t afford it. They tried to explain to her – but the stubborn little cow wouldn’t listen. In the end, Dad promised her she would get one somehow.” replied Justin, now looking as if he was in pain.<br /> <br /> “You’re lucky,” I joked, “My little brother Jason wanted a real life gorilla for his birthday last month.”<br /> <br /> Jason had always been fascinated by gorillas. He had nearly twenty toy ones, all fluffy, stuffed and horrible. Gorilla posters covered his walls, and his e-mail address was something like gorillaboy@yahoo. He just needed a real one to collect the set. I was about to continue to downgrade my kid brother some more when I saw Justin put his hands to his face, and scratch. <br /> <br /> I stared at him. Something was wrong. His face looked rougher, hairy. <br /> <br /> “You need a shave.” I quipped. <br /> <br /> “I don’t! I shaved this morning.” he blurted back. <br /> <br /> Suddenly Justin stood up, shaking. In the gloom of my bedroom, I could see that Justin was changing, growing. His face began to push outwards, taking on the shape of a muzzle. A horse’s muzzle!<br /> <br /> “Hhhhelp me!” whinnied Justin, as his hair grew down his neck. Justin stood erect - shaking and crying. His neck stretched longer. I could see the buttons on his shirt begin to strain from the growing bulk they had to contain. His jeans were getting tighter, clearly showing the development of huge muscles in his legs. <br /> <br /> “Jesus Justin!” I shouted. “You’re turning into a fucking horse!”<br /> <br /> Suddenly his shoes burst open, but instead of feet – a pair of hooves clattered onto the wooden floor. I continued to gaze as Justin’s head took on more and more equine features. The change seemed to flow up and down his body. The buttons started popping off his shirt one by one as his chest barrelled outwards. Splits appeared in the shoulders and sleeves as Justin’s new equine limbs forced their way into the open air. His whole body was slowly growing a thin layer of silky smooth hair, or was it fur?<br /> <br /> “Doooooooott Scumthing!” cried Justin, his voice loosing more and more of his familiar sound. There was nothing I could do, but watch.<br /> <br /> The top button and zip burst off his jeans. Justin then fell forward onto all fours, splitting the seat of his jeans as he did so. Through the split in the material he swished his long tail. It was not long before the jeans had split all the way down, leaving Justin standing there in all his horsey glory. Dumbstruck, I just looked at the horse standing in my bedroom where my best friend had been a minute or two earlier. One thing was for sure, he certainly wouldn’t complain about his new tackle. He would be God’s gift to the girl’s now. <br /> I walked slowly over to him, and rubbed my hand over his back. He whinnied, but said nothing I could understand. It was then that I noticed my own hand looked rather dark and shiny itself. Staring in disbelief and horror, my hands turned black – with thick stubbly hair sprouting out of the skin on their backs.<br /> <br /> “No, not me too” I cried, falling to my knees. I could feel the pressure begin to build in my training shoes. I was tempted to pull my shoes off, but was too frightened to see what was happening. I curled my toes over, trying to stay within my shoes. I could feel my socks tearing inside as my feet developed what felt like thumbs. My jeans then started to bulge as my legs shortened and thickened, and the buckle of my leather belt burst open to accommodate my new gut.<br /> <br /> Then it all stopped. <br /> <br /> Regaining my composure, I looked back at Justin. He was a fine horse – a colt! He twitched his head, and opened his mouth – but only wheezes came out. I thought I could just make out a whisper of “Help.” <br /> <br /> I turned and looked in the mirror. My face was wider than I remembered, and my forehead hung over my eyes like the brow of a cap. Black hair covered a large part of my head – making it look like I had a full beard and sideburns. I opened my mouth to speak, but my attention was captivated by my new set of fang-like canines. My hands were black and leathery. I was also about two inches shorter. I was unmistakably turning into a gorilla – but I was not as far gone as Justin. All this from drinking some reject alcoholic lemonade, or at least that’s what I thought it was.<br /> <br /> “Come on!” I said, “We can’t stay here.” <br /> <br /> I put my hand on Justin’s long neck, and tried to direct him towards the stairs, picking up the half-empty bottles of Dream Maker as I went. His hooves clattered loudly on the wooden floor. Thank goodness everybody was out. He stumbled, trying to get purchase on the ground. He acted just like a newborn foal did as it got use to walking, only that he was a teenage horse – not a baby. I too found it difficult to walk properly. My thighs were much thicker, and rubbed together. My jeans were pulled so tightly around my knees I couldn’t bend them properly. My shoes also felt like they were several sizes too small. <br /> <br /> I had just about made it to the top of the stairs when the tingling sensation started in my body again. I cried in pain, and fright as my arms started to stretch out of my shirt, becoming longer than my legs. I fell over onto all fours like Justin had done, feeling all the more comfortable for doing so. I managed to rid myself of my constraining shoes by flexing my toes a couple of times.<br /> <br /> Eventually we made it downstairs. Fortunately, my parents’ garden backed onto a small wood. We could hide out there until we had figured what had happened to us. I sat on the log whilst Justin circled around, nibbling at the shrubs. I rested my head in my thick hands, trying to work out what was going on. <br /> <br /> Justin was a horse. Why? <br /> <br /> I was turning into a giant ape? Why? <br /> <br /> What, if anything, did it have to do with that Dream Maker drink?<br /> <br /> “That’s it!” I boomed. “You’ll become your loved one’s desire. Bloody Jason! He’s got his stinking gorilla now.”<br /> <br /> I heard a creaking sound. Looking down – I saw the fabric of my jeans stretch as my legs started to grow again. There was the sound of seams popping. The top button of my shirt also popped off.<br /> <br /> “This is no good. We must do something.” I moaned, turning to look at Justin. Justin just cocked his head on one side, and looked as if it grinned – or as much of a grin as a horse could give. <br /> <br /> “Justin – it’s me...... Simon. Are you in there?” <br /> <br /> The horse just turned away, and then continued munching a small bush.<br /> <br /> “Oh no! Justin’s lost it.” I moaned. “This is hopeless.”<br /> <br /> Suddenly there was a rustling in the trees, and a familiar figure walked into the clearing.<br /> <br /> “M-m-mum?”<br /> <br /> “My dear – you do make a very fine ape. And sweet Justin, Zoë will be pleased!”<br /> <br /> At that point Justin’s little sister Zoë came bounding into the woods, followed by her parents. She threw her arms around Justin, shouting “A pony! A pony! Thank you Mummy and Daddy!”<br /> <br /> I looked at my Mother in horror. She had now been joined by Dad and Jason. Jason was crying, and whispered in Dad’s ear.<br /> <br /> “You’re not quite what Jason was hoping for Simon. I’m afraid you’ll have to finish your drink.”<br /> <br /> THE END!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Mister_Universe&diff=3204 2007-10-06T12:27:38Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis “I want to be Mr Universe!” cried Curtis, taking a deep swig from the bottle. Only a few hours earlier he had bought this strange drink from the infamous old man on the...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> <br /> “I want to be Mr Universe!” cried Curtis, taking a deep swig from the bottle. Only a few hours earlier he had bought this strange drink from the infamous old man on the hill. He’d promised it would make his dreams come true. Any wish – it would grant, but only once and it couldn’t be undone.<br /> <br /> Curtis thumped down the bottle of Dream Maker on the table, and turned towards his girlfriend Sarah.<br /> <br /> “So much for its poxy claim to make you into your greatest desire. I want to be a candidate for Mr Universe – but I’m more like Mr Puny-verse!”<br /> <br /> Sarah tried to comfort him.<br /> <br /> “I love you just the way your are.” she said.<br /> <br /> “Thanks, but I’m tired of being a skinny geek” said Curtis, still waiting for something to happen. He looked down at his unathletic body. At his loose clothes, covering his scrawny frame unevenly - like an old scarecrow. <br /> <br /> “This is hopeless. Nothing is gonna happen” mused the youth, as he brushed his hair out of his eyes.<br /> <br /> “Give it time,” said Sarah patiently. “The old man said that results took a while.”<br /> <br /> “Yeah, right. That was seven quid I forked out on this muck.” moaned Curtis, as he picked up the bottle for a second swig. As he raised his arms, he felt a slight tingling running up and down his body. Was it about to start? The power and strength he so desperately wanted? Suddenly a terrible pain struck his stomach. Curtis clutched his waist, and snarled. <br /> <br /> “Hey, are you all right?” cried Sarah, rushing over to her boyfriend’s side. She put a comforting hand on his back. But something felt strange. The muscles were twitching under the fabric. There was no denying it - Curtis was changing. Growing! <br /> <br /> Sarah watched, mesmerized, as his chest slowly filled out his shirt. His shoulders, back, legs, everything grew progressively larger. Thicker. Deepening shadows indicated a pair of ominously muscular pectorals. Curtis' thickening legs filled out his jeans very quickly. Within seconds, they'd risen past his ankles, engorged by swelling thighs and calves – and getting progressively tighter and tighter. Sarah rubbed his legs. They were rock hard, and the muscle development was obvious. His quads looked like those of pro-football player, and they were still growing.<br /> <br /> “Holy Shit Curtis! It’s working” squealed Sarah<br /> <br /> Curtis’ chest was getting wider, and freakily muscular. He watched the outline of his pecs balloon inside his shirt – pulling it even tighter. He couldn't believe it! He was turning into a hunk, just like he had always wanted, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would happen. Especially like this. Enrapt, Curtis watched his body press even tighter against his clothes. He could feel himself developing. Becoming bigger. Stronger! <br /> <br /> By now, Curtis's chest had widened just as incredibly as it had mounded up. Although he couldn't feel them, there was no mistaking those monster pecs in his shirt, pulling it taut, fighting the buttons that kept it closed. He caught a glimpse down inside the shirt; all he saw an endless expanse of muscular flesh. Bulging! Growing! <br /> <br /> Curtis then felt his arms being lifted out to the sides; pushed away by bulked-up lats, that packed the seams of his shirt. His melon-sized shoulders followed suit, swelling, cramming his sleeves. His traps surged up, straining the collar. He swooned when he noticed his forearms. The former spindles were so tightly packed into his sleeves, he thought they would burst. He regarded the contorted fabric, pulled skin tight across those multitudinous bulges. <br /> <br /> His swelling legs stuffed his jeans like big blue sausages. They had already ridden up to mid-calf level. Curtis strained over his protruding pecs to look at his mighty running machines. He could make out every single striation and curve of his outrageous quads now filling his tight jeans. His feet too, felt uncomfortably tight in his training shoes.<br /> <br /> &quot;Bigger! I want to be bigger!&quot; bellowed Curtis, and he picked up the bottle of Dream Maker – and gulped down the rest in one swig. He was really enjoying getting huger and freakier. The simultaneous sensations of his chest lifting, his back spreading, and his traps, shoulders and arms pumping huge was just more than he could take... <br /> <br /> &quot;OH YEAHHHHH!&quot; cried Curtis.<br /> <br /> One by one, the stitches holding his shirt together began to give way. A button popped off here, a seam over there, a hole ripped down the back. His shirt screamed out in agony as it started shredding from the inside. This was perfect. Curtis was now becoming the object of his dreams. His biceps were now as big as some men's legs. How much bigger could he grow? <br /> <br /> &quot;C'mon, show me how big! &quot; thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> With a vengeance, his mountainous pecs surged up ominously below his chin. His glorious shoulders and traps ruptured the sleeves, splitting them with a sickening rip. Curtis stared at his mounding biceps, savouring the straining sounds of the fabric as his developing muscles mercilessly blasted through the sleeves. Curtis' triceps hung like juicy slabs of meat, popping the remaining threads that encircled his monstrous appendages. Lifting his arms above his head, Curtis flexed them in a typical bodybuilder pose. <br /> <br /> Slowly, Curtis felt his feet being crushed by his shoes. He strained over his colossal chest, just in time to see the stitching around his sneakers tear apart. The laces snapped one by one, quickly followed by the bursting of his white socks – revealing a pair of beautifully muscular, bare feet. Raising his head to the ceiling, Curtis let out loud of roar of ecstasy! <br /> <br /> Suddenly, his attention was grabbed by a creaking sound from his legs. Curtis looked down to see his legs about to erupt from his jeans. The rivets started to pop off like small bullets as his terrifying quad development now reached the bursting-point. His thighs and calves bulged sadistically, splitting the seams lengthwise, prying open the skin-tight jeans. Indeed, his legs seemed liked animals themselves, annihilating every trace of blue that tried to cover their stunning magnificence. Ragged strands of denim flew up into his face as his legs grew and grew. With a loud crack, the backside split open to expose his boxer shorts. <br /> <br /> Curtis felt his hideously hulking traps within an inch of his ears now. The gargantuan mass of his chest obliterated the view of his feet, even when bending over. His Herculean arms hung at what seemed like forty-five degree angles from <br /> his fantastic lat spread. <br /> <br /> Curtis's boxer shorts were the last to go, contorted beyond recognition between his Olympian abs and the tops of his luscious thighs. The elastic was stretched to the absolute limit, and refused to give anymore. With a painful snap, they relinquished to Curtis's overripe behind. <br /> <br /> “Oh My God!” squealed Sarah, in a mixture of terror and excitement.<br /> <br /> “Yes, I suppose I am!” bellowed Curtis in a voice many times deeper than his old one.<br /> Curtis rubbed his huge hands over his muscular body – feeling the raw power locked inside his impressive physique. This was magic! This was perfect!<br /> <br /> Suddenly, Curtis felt the cold floor of the room drop away from his feet. He looked down to see that he was floating above the ground.<br /> <br /> “Hey, cut that out!” squealed Sarah, fearfully.<br /> <br /> “I’m not doing anything!” boomed Curtis, feeling unnerved. “No Mr Universe’s I know can fly!” <br /> <br /> “Did you ask to be superman?” asked Sarah, still not quite sure of her own sense of reality anymore. What had started as a semi-prank had become all too real. Slowly, Curtis floated to the ceiling. Strange lights were flickering around him. Dancing like fairies.<br /> <br /> “Geez, I feel strange – even more than before!” moaned Curtis as the lights grew even brighter. He crawled his way across the ceiling towards the window – desperately trying to open the latches.<br /> <br /> “What are you doing?” asked Sarah. “You can’t go out there, you’re naked!”<br /> <br /> “M-must get OUT!” roared Curtis, his eye’s burning red.<br /> <br /> Sarah stared in shock as the lights began to prick in and out of Curtis’ skin, causing it to blotch and swell. He just managed to open the latches before his once mighty body became too fat and flabby to fit through.<br /> <br /> “NNNOOOO!” shrieked Curtis as he watched his all to brief period as a real hunk disappear. He was now surrounded by a spinning spiral of light, that pulled at his sides – causing them to balloon outwards and glow<br /> <br /> Rushing after him, Sarah looked out of the window to see Curtis still rising upwards and outwards, until he looked like a glowing zeppelin in the afternoon sky. Straining hard against the noise of the traffic, she could just make out the strangled sound of <br /> “I love you!”<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to drift away, becoming nothing more than a bright spot on the horizon. Then nothing.<br /> <br /> Sarah was alone in the house, with an empty bottle of Dream Maker potion on the table. Distraught, she picked up the bottle and read the label. In very small print below the main text, there was a message that read:<br /> <br /> WARNING: Be specific for what you wish for. Once made, there is no going back!<br /> <br /> “Oh Curtis.....” sobbed Sarah as she dropped the bottle onto the ground.<br /> <br /> That night, the news reporter stopped his scheduled item to bring a sudden newsflash. Astronomers at the Isaac Newton Observatory in the Canaries have just reporter a previously undiscovered comet, speeding towards the outer solar system. Where it has come from remained a mystery. Perhaps it had been obscured by the Sun on a strange orbit. It had been name Vorspiel 234 after the German astronomer who had spotted it.<br /> <br /> Sarah hugged a cushion, as a tear rolled down her cheek. Curtis truly had become a Man of the Universe.<br /> <br /> THE END!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Claw_Hill&diff=3203 2007-10-06T12:26:06Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis “Grrrr... What time is it?” I mumbled, wiping the sleep from my eyes. The alarm clock said 9.00 AM precisely, not 8.00 as I had hoped. Easing my aching body to an sem...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> “Grrrr... What time is it?” I mumbled, wiping the sleep from my eyes.<br /> <br /> The alarm clock said 9.00 AM precisely, not 8.00 as I had hoped. <br /> <br /> Easing my aching body to an semi-upright position, I collected my thoughts. <br /> <br /> “Damn, I’m late again. Must get that clock fixed.” I swore under my breath. This was the third Monday in a row I was late for school. My form tutor was sure to put me on detention after this.<br /> <br /> I scrambled out of bed, and plodded to the bathroom. Mum was already at work, and my kid brother Jason was still in bed. He had the flu, and was not going to school today. <br /> <br /> “Lucky sod!” I thought. <br /> <br /> Once in the bathroom, I stripped off my t-shirt and boxers, and turned on the shower. Once the temperature was a nice luke-warm, I stepped in. The water and soap dribbled over my fairly scrawny body. I looked down at the white sticks that were my legs. <br /> <br /> “Not really rugby player legs were they” I thought sadly to myself. I was nearly fifteen, but had only just experienced my voice breaking. All the other boys in my class were ahead of me in that, but now I was catching them up. Jenny, my former and only girlfriend, had tried to boost my confidence by saying that I looked like an English Brad Renfro.<br /> <br /> “Who’s Brad Renfro?” I thought.<br /> <br /> I turned the shower off, and dried myself. I was in no particular hurry. If I was going to be late for school, I might as well be really late. I plodded back to my room, and sat down on my bed. I glanced out of the window. It was early June, but the great British weather had done it again. Clouds loomed ominously on the horizon, and there was a definite chill in the air. Still cursing my defective alarm clock, I got dressed. My school did not enforce the wearing of a uniform, which did allow some self-expression from some of the other pupils. All it achieved for me was having a further source of taunting. I never had the right designer label, or the smartest cut of trouser. We hadn’t much money. Dad had left us when I was only nine – and Mum worked hard to keep Jason and I in the style to which we had become accustomed.<br /> I rummaged through my wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of blue jeans. Turning back to the window, the approaching rain clouds persuaded to wear my denim jacket in addition to my favourite t-shirt (the one with a picture of a wolf on it).<br /> <br /> Tip-toeing past Jason room, trying not to wake him, I made my way to the door. Putting on my sneakers, and picking up my backpack – I set out. I lived a good distance from the school, nearly two miles. I had to cross a small area of open space between my village and the main town. I liked this walk. It gave me time to ponder the meaning of universe, and our place within it. Halfway along the path, there was another track leading up to a craggy tor. This local landmark was Claw Hill, only about 800 feet high, so not a mountain – but the only high-point for miles around. I had always wanted to climb to the summit, but despite having lived here for most of my life, I had never gotten around to fulfilling this pledge.<br /> <br /> I looked at my watch. 9.25 glared back at me. My first lesson would nearly be over already. I sighed. What was the point? I might as well play ill like Jason, and have a day to myself. Then a thought hit me. It seemed like a twinge of fate. Why not explore Claw Hill? I had my pack lunch my Mum had made before she had left this morning – so I wouldn’t be hungry.<br /> <br /> “Stuff school!” I cackled out loud. Turning on my heels, and ventured along the twisting path that led up to Claw Hill. The going was harder than I expected. I wasn’t fit – or at least not as fit as I thought I was. I was only about halfway up when I noticed the storm clouds growing darker, and bigger. I hesitated. Only last night there had been a documentary on BBC 2 about the dangers of lightning. Heading to the top of an exposed hill in the middle of a thunderstorm was not a wise idea. Then it started to rain.<br /> <br /> “Blast!” I moaned. There was very little cover to be found, but I managed to squeeze behind some rocks that almost made a natural stone arch. I waited for the rain to let up, but it didn’t. With nothing much else to do, I opened my lunchbox and took a large bite out of my ham sandwich. <br /> <br /> “Yuuuuuuukkkkk!” I bawled. My Mum had put English mustard all over it. I spat it out, and wiped my mouth. <br /> <br /> “Geeez! I’ll just have to go hungry.” I thought. I sat there for about another ten minutes, before boredom got the better of me. I decided to go home, at least there was warm. I stood up quickly, preparing to dash through rain – but I forgot that I was still under the stone arch.<br /> <br /> Thwack!<br /> <br /> I hit my head on the rocky roof, and fell down. I was out cold.<br /> <br /> Feeling groggy, and with a splitting headache – I eventually came round. <br /> <br /> “What a prat you are....” I sighed. Only I, Curtis The Mighty, could knock himself unconscious in the pouring rain. I glanced down a my watch. 12.57 it showed.<br /> <br /> “Shit! Now I’m halfway through my day.” <br /> <br /> I got up, slowly, and crept out of the archway. The rain had stopped, and the sun was shining. <br /> <br /> “Ahhhh, this is not too bad. Perhaps I will make it up the hill after all.” I mused.<br /> <br /> I started along the path, when I suddenly felt dizzy.<br /> <br /> “Whoa, I feel strange” came a voice from inside my head. “Must have hit my head pretty bad.” I reached up to rub the bruise on my head, but my hair came off in my hands. <br /> <br /> “Yikes!” <br /> <br /> The blond strands that once flopped over my cranium were falling down like confetti onto the grassy hillside. I lifted my hands again to see what had happened. Was it the shock of the injury. Suddenly my heart missed a beat. I held my hands in front of me. There was fur on the backs. Brown, matted fur.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!”<br /> <br /> The fur was growing before my very eyes. It was spreading up my arms. It tickled as it went, but I was too shocked to laugh. My face felt funny, all tingly. I could hear cracking sounds from my jaw, and I see some sort of elongation of my nose. It was pushing forward between my eyes, becoming a muzzle. My whole body felt like it was immersed in warm treacle. <br /> <br /> “Help me!” I whaled, but no one could hear me. I stumbled along the path, clutching my swelling face. What was happening to me? Was I changing into an animal? No, that was silly. I must still be unconscious. Yes, that was it – I was dreaming. <br /> <br /> “Argh!” pain shot through my hands. Looking down, I saw the my fingernails elongate, and harden into what looked like....... no .......they were claws.<br /> <br /> “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit” I kept muttering, starting to hyperventilate.<br /> <br /> I was nearly at the point where the main path down the hill began, when I felt another surge of energy flow through my body. I winced in pain, clutching at my stomach. I could also feel the fur spreading over my back and down my legs. It pushed up around my t-shirt collar, and spread around my face.<br /> <br /> I took another step, and then tumbled over. My feet were no longer responding to my brain. I yelped as my shoes began feel like they were crushing my feet. The pain grew until I heard a loud ripping noise, and saw my sneakers split open. Poking through were a pair of clawed feet. No, they were not feet. They were paws.<br /> <br /> “Stay calm Curtis, your not a kid. Don’t panic!” That was easy to think in theory.<br /> <br /> I tried to stand up, but could only managed to crouch on all fours. The tingling sensations flowed up and down my body. The fur was growing thicker and thicker. My face contorted more and more. I could feel sharp canines pushing down in my mouth. <br /> <br /> “Ouch!” I had bitten my tongue.<br /> <br /> My jeans began to feel uncomfortably tight. I put a paw down onto my thigh, feeling new sets of muscles bubble up under the thick denim. The strange pulses flowed up my arms as well. They swelled and twisted, totally filling the sleeves of my jacket.<br /> <br /> Cracking sounds came from my back. My shoulder blades were spreading, straining the back of my jacket. A lump was also growing up behind my collar. My whole body was growing at an alarming rate, becoming tremendously muscled – albeit furry.<br /> <br /> “W-hats hhhh-appening?” I asked to some unknown force.<br /> <br /> I twisted my head around to watch the strange transformation my body was undergoing. There was another uncomfortable surge of pain in my buttocks. I peered as best I could towards my expanding rear. My arse looked like two huge beach balls stuffed inside a pair of near-bursting blue jeans. As I watched, a third smaller bulge appeared between, and slightly above the other two. As I panicked, it twitched.<br /> <br /> “Shit! I’ve got a tail!” <br /> <br /> It was at this point that the transformation began to fascinate me. My fear was subsiding, being replaced by a strange level of calmness for someone turning into an animal. I never liked my scrawny human body anyway. <br /> <br /> My stomach barrelled outwards. I could hear my leather belt groan under the pressure. <br /> <br /> Kaplunk!<br /> <br /> The buckle burst open, allowing my new furry gut to swell larger and larger. My wolf t-shirt was pulled very tightly. I sat back on my haunches, and looked at my expanding chest. With a mighty crack, my t-shirt split right up the middle. Where there had once been the picture of a grey wolf, there was now a mass of brown fur. <br /> <br /> My fur! <br /> <br /> My arms pushed against my sides, and my shoulders broadened. The seams of my jacket popped as my new furry shoulders forced their way through the torn fabric.<br /> I let out a sigh of relief as I flexed my shoulders, splitting my jacket clean down the back. My arms continued to bulge, the sleeves fighting to contain them. My watch strap snapped under the strain. Finally I could stand the pressure no longer. I flexed my paws up to my shoulders. The sleeves tore with a pleasing, prolonged rrrrriiiiiipppp! <br /> <br /> I arched my back, trying to ease the pain in my butt. I could feel my jeans getting tighter and tighter. I dared to look down at my legs. My calves and thighs were bulging at tremendous speed. My buttocks were also approaching twice their human size.<br /> <br /> “Aaarrgh!” I cried, or growled to be more correct. I tried to get to my feet again, but I couldn’t move.<br /> <br /> There was a sound of ripping denim. The seams of my jeans were tearing down from the pockets. I growled to myself, wishing the change would end quickly. My thighs continued to grow as the jeans began splitting. Suddenly there was a loud pop, and the seat of my pants burst open, allowing my tail to wag in the fresh air. More tears opened up on my jeans. The fly-zip came away from the material with another satisfying rip! With one last heave, I stretched my legs – and my ruined jeans fell away.<br /> <br /> I was now completely naked, except for my layers of thick brown fur and a couple of blue strands of denim around my neck. Stunned, I did not know what to do next. What had happened? What was I? Who was I? Secretly I hoped that I might be a wolf. I have always fancied being a werewolf – now I had done it. Then again, perhaps not. I’ve never known a wolf to be as big as a bear. A bear! Oh, shit – I’m a bear!<br /> <br /> I sat on the hillside for what seemed like hours – trying to collect my thoughts. I finally decided that I must get home. <br /> <br /> I loped along the quiet roads. There seemed to be no one about. Phew! I could get home unseen. I was nearly at my house when I noticed a man, or what I thought was a man stumbling down my road. As he got closer, I could see that he too was undergoing a change. He had small horns, and the distinct appearance of a goat.<br /> <br /> He seemed not to notice me. Then I felt a strange feeling in my head. It was a voice, similar to mine – but very monotone. <br /> <br /> Prey! Eat! Prey! Eat!<br /> <br /> “Hey, get outta my head” I growled incomprehensibly.<br /> <br /> I did feel hungry. All I had eaten today was one mouthful of revolting ham and mustard sandwich. Whilst I fought with my sub-conscious, the goat-man had gone.<br /> <br /> “Has the whole World changed?” <br /> <br /> I lumbered up to my front door, and reached into my pocket for my keys.<br /> <br /> “Bummer!” My keys were still in my rags back on Claw Hill.<br /> <br /> I thumped on the door. No answer. I thumped again, splintering the wood.<br /> Still no answer. I was just about to strike a third time when the door swung open. There was Jason in his pyjamas, still totally human.<br /> <br /> He just stood in the doorway. His mouth open, his eyes filled with fear.<br /> <br /> “Mum! Bear! Mum – help!” shouted Jason, forgetting Mum was at work.<br /> <br /> “Jason, it’s me, Curtis” I growled in a deep voice not even vaguely similar to my old one.<br /> <br /> “Nnnn- nah!” Jason murmured, still looking like a frightened rabbit in the headlights of a speeding car.<br /> <br /> I hadn’t all day to explain. I pushed past him, and sat my huge furry butt on the bottom of the stairs.<br /> <br /> “It’s true Jason. It’s me. Somehow, I’ve changed. So have other people.”<br /> <br /> “C-ccurtis?! It is you....” whispered Jason. Jason was never fast for the penny to drop, but he seemed to recognise something about me. I assume it was my eyes. He was looking in awe at them. I turned around and looked in the hall mirror. I was a bear alright, a grizzly by the looks of things. However, my face was just about recognisable under all that fur and elongated muzzle.<br /> <br /> “Something strange has happened. I was walking over Claw Hill – and then this happened to me.” I explained. <br /> Jason, perhaps with strange innocence of youth – seemed not too phased by my explanation. Jason was only twelve, and perhaps hadn’t lost too much of his imagination.<br /> <br /> “Let’s turn on the television. I wonder how many have been affected?” I growled.<br /> <br /> Jason, regaining his composure – shrugged and said “Sure.”<br /> <br /> I fell back onto all fours, and walked towards the sitting room. It was then that I realised how huge I’d become. I couldn’t fit through the door. My butt was just too big.<br /> <br /> “I’ll stay here” I said, and reversed back into the hall. Jason, looking a little wearily at me now – walked in and turned on the TV. BBC1 was the only channel operating. It was a news report. The newsreader was some kind of dog-morph, interviewing a lizard. We managed to learn that the strange changes were happening across the World. Only children were unaffected.<br /> <br /> “That explains it.” as I turned, and gave Jason a look of envy (or as close to envy as a teenage grizzly bear could).<br /> <br /> The phone rang. Easing my bulk away from the door, I allowed Jason to pass. Coughing, for he still was unwell, he picked up the receiver.<br /> <br /> “Mum! What’s happened. Everybody has become animals. Curtis is a bear.”<br /> <br /> I could just hear the panicky voice on the other end of the phone.<br /> <br /> “No, Mum – I’m fine. Still me. All the children are!”<br /> <br /> More muffled sounds followed.<br /> <br /> “A lizard? Wow – have you got a tail?” <br /> <br /> “Tell her I’m okay.” I called. Jason nodded in acknowledgement – and he passed the message on.<br /> <br /> He put down the receiver.<br /> <br /> “Mum’s a lizard! Everyone at work has changed. Cooool!” Jason smirked.<br /> <br /> “Hey! It’s not funny.” I replied.<br /> <br /> “Yeah, well – hey man – can I have a ride on your back?” Jason asked.<br /> <br /> “Geez – okay then.” I replied. I was always having to do something to please my baby brother. I guess that this wasn’t to be any different.<br /> <br /> That was that!<br /> <br /> Gradually, the World began to come to terms with what happened. Everyone was some sort of creature – with no pattern to the changes. Parents could be a bird and a cat, and the child would be a dinosaur – YES, a dinosaur.<br /> <br /> No one changed until they were in their early teens – going through puberty (as if puberty hadn’t been bad enough before). Instead of acne, you got scales or fur.<br /> <br /> I had grown use to my new form. I enjoyed my new strength, as well as my improved sense of smell and hearing. Clothing was a bit more tricky. None of my old clothes even came near to fitting now. Mum bought me some Extra Large tracksuits, with holes cut in the seats to accommodate my tail. However, I tended to walk about naked. I had fur, so what did it matter. Nearly everyone else was naked to some degree.<br /> <br /> A year had passed since the change, and life in Britain was slowly beginning to return to some normality. All my class mates had changed. We now had everything from parrots to warthogs sitting behind rows of desks.<br /> <br /> It was now the week after Jason’s thirteenth birthday. He was looking much older now, and his voice had started to break. He still liked to tease me about my morph. <br /> <br /> “Hey, Yogi? Where’s Booboo?” and stuff like that.<br /> <br /> I ignored it mostly, as I knew it would be his turn soon.<br /> <br /> At supper, Jason continued to make sly remarks at me. I frowned, and let out a low growl. Just then, Jason reached up to his nose. It felt rough, and was getting longer. Before my eyes, it had become hard and shiny. A horn! A rhino horn!<br /> <br /> “Oh no!” squealed Jason. “I don’t want to be a rhino – I want to be a bird!”<br /> Jason jumped back from the dinner table, clutching his sides. His skin turned grey, and became pitted.<br /> <br /> “It’sssss your firsssst sssignssss dear. It’ll stop soon.” hissed Mother from the kitchen.<br /> <br /> “Wha – argh!” shouted Jason, as his legs ballooned – splitting his jeans.<br /> <br /> His whole body swayed, and then stopped changing.<br /> <br /> I grinned back at Jason. He too, grinned back at me. <br /> <br /> “Fancy an arm wrestle bro?”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Degree_In_Lycanthropy&diff=3202 2007-10-06T12:23:40Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis Curtis nestled under a large lavender bush, licking the dried blood and dirt from the cuts on his body. He couldn’t clear his mind. He didn’t know where he was, even who...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> Curtis nestled under a large lavender bush, licking the dried blood and dirt from the cuts on his body. He couldn’t clear his mind. He didn’t know where he was, even who he was. This was the seventy-second time this had happened. Three times every month he would lose consciousness and wreak his room. Perhaps he should stop drinking dog-bites or pan-galactic-gargle-blasters at the student's union.<br /> <br /> It took him a few hours to regain his composure. He still couldn’t recollect what had happened to him, but he knew he must find his girlfriend, Sarah. What was he to do? He was naked, miles from his flat, in broad daylight. To his great delight Curtis saw a skip, full of rubbish. Surely there must be something wearable in there, but all he could find was an old dust sheet.<br /> <br /> “It’ll have to do.” thought Curtis. Grabbing the sheet, Curtis ran towards the nearest phone box. He passed several people as he went. Two old ladies pointed and laughed, whilst several students started shouting abuse. This was awful, if only he could contact Sarah, she could help him - but what would he tell her? <br /> <br /> Arriving at the telephone box, Curtis was dismayed to see it occupied. What was worse was that it was by several school girls. Should he hide and wait, or stroll nonchalantly up as if nothing was amiss. Cowardice prevailed, but only too late. They had seen him, and had bundled out of phone box in a mixture of screaming and hysterical laughter.<br /> <br /> “It’s easy. I can explain.... I was at a Stag Party” cried Curtis, but they would have none of it. Then one of them grabbed the corner of the dust sheet and pulled it from him. In a twist he was back in the nude, in front of about a dozen people.<br /> <br /> “Oh my god!” called an old man. <br /> <br /> “Revolting!” cried another.<br /> <br /> “He must be one of those pervy sodo-masacisms! Look at those cuts on his body” bellowed an ignorant unshaven man. Curtis wanted the ground to swallow him up, but he gritted his teeth, and stepped into the phone box. Not only did it give him some privacy, it also shielded him from the wind. It was autumn, and Curtis was freezing.<br /> <br /> <br /> Sarah was very excited. Tonight here favourite band was playing live at University, and her boyfriend Curtis had managed to get the last two tickets. What a sweetie he had been to her over the last few weeks since they had met. She hadn’t had to pay for anything whenever they went anywhere, and he always remembered to be the perfect gentleman. <br /> <br /> It was late afternoon, and Sarah marched up to Curtis’s door, and knocked loudly. There was no reply. She tried the handle, but it was locked. She called out but there was nothing.<br /> <br /> “He can’t be out, as we have to leave soon. Perhaps he’s ill? I haven’t seen him today or last night.” she thought.<br /> <br /> Sarah had her own key to Curtis’s room, so she opened the door. Her jaw dropped!<br /> <br /> All the furniture had been turned upside down. Sheets were torn, cups and glasses were smashed, and expensive text books ripped to shreds. The walls were caked in unrecognisable red and brown muck. In the middle of all this destruction was a pile of torn clothes - but no Curtis.<br /> <br /> She raced downstairs to ring for the police. Just as she replaced the receiver, it rang again. Sarah picked up the phone, and accepted the reversed call. <br /> <br /> “Curtis, its you! I’ve been so worried, where have you been?”<br /> <br /> “Can’t speak now. Come to the park, and meet me behind the fountain. Bring me some clothes as well please.” gabbled Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Curtis! What’s the matter with you?”<br /> <br /> “Got to go - bye.” <br /> <br /> The phone went dead! <br /> <br /> Curtis had seen twenty enormous rugby players striding down the road from the Leisure Centre towards him, being led by one of the school girls. Their scowling faces were redder than their scarlet shirts. No doubt she had told him that some dirty, naked pervert had tried to attack her.<br /> <br /> “Oh hell!” yelped Curtis, and in a flash he was off down the road in front of all the evening rush hour traffic. One bloke even leant out of his window and shouted “Good on’ya mate!”<br /> <br /> Curtis tried to hide his body as best he could, but there was little an empty packet of crisps could accomplish. He knew he must get to the park. At least there would be plenty of bushes to hide in until Sarah arrived. To his surprise it took him only a few minutes to get there. He found that running in bare feet was quicker than with wearing shoes, albeit less comfortable.<br /> <br /> <br /> Sarah couldn’t take it all in at first, but dutifully did what Curtis asked. Making her way swiftly to the park, she waited by the fountain.<br /> <br /> “Psst!” called Curtis. Sarah spun round to see her beloved boyfriend, ankle deep in mud, covered in scratches, hair all mated, shivering excessively - with only a crisp packet for honour.<br /> <br /> “What the f...!” exclaimed Sarah. <br /> <br /> “Can I have my clothes please?” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” retorted Sarah abruptly.<br /> <br /> “Stop messing around, I’m freezing!” said Curtis angrily.<br /> <br /> “All right then,” conceded Sarah, “But I still want to know. Was it the lads’ party last night?”<br /> <br /> “No.”<br /> <br /> “Please, don’t tell me it’s another woman.” said Sarah nervously.<br /> <br /> “Never!” replied Curtis firmly, “But if you want to know what happened to me. I will tell only if you promise to believe me.”<br /> <br /> “I will, I will - just tell me!” shouted Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Last night I had one of my funny turns. I’ve been getting them for a couple of years now - but recently they’ve got really bad. It happens a few times every month, and I think I know why now!”<br /> <br /> “For Heaven’s sake... TELL ME!” screamed Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Sarah... I think I turn into a werewolf.” whispered Curtis.<br /> <br /> There was a hushed silence. Sarah looked at Curtis quizzically and he started to get dressed.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued ,“My mind just flips, and everything goes red. I must have trashed my place pretty bad, just look at my body”. He showed Sarah the huge lacerations all over his arms, legs and back.<br /> <br /> “I thought there had been a break in. I thought you had been kidnapped or worse.” spluttered Sarah.<br /> <br /> “I doubt it” replied Curtis, “&quot;I'd probably have torn the intruder's throat out last night.&quot; <br /> <br /> Curtis smirked at his words, but Sarah looked slightly frightened.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry pet. I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.” said Curtis sweetly. “If your worried, I’ll go and see the doctor.”<br /> <br /> “I would like that.” said Sarah. “I don't think it's possible, but if you say it’s true - then that’s good enough for me.”<br /> <br /> “Thanks honey.” replied Curtis <br /> <br /> “I suppose tonight’s off then.” sighed Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Sorry Em, but I’ve only had the first of my three bad days. You go without me.”<br /> <br /> “No. I want to stay with you. I want to see the real reason behind your problem. Perhaps your epileptic?” said Sarah.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps..” replied Curtis, unconvinced.<br /> <br /> <br /> That night, Curtis stayed with Sarah. For a time he sat on the floor, just looking at her combing her long golden hair. It would shine so beautifully in the moonlight. How he loved her. Even though he had told her such a ridiculous story, she had not questioned him. For all she knew he could have been with another woman, and got beaten up by her husband. Then Curtis shook his head. He shouldn’t be there. What would happen to Sarah if he changed? Could he guarantee Sarah’s safety? Just as he thought that, he felt his clothes begin to tighten.<br /> <br /> “Give me a cuddle” giggled Sarah, “And turn the light off as you go. The moon’s bright so you shouldn’t stub your toe.” <br /> <br /> Curtis said nothing.<br /> <br /> He climbed into bed, and pressed up against her. Sarah sensed that something didn’t feel right. Was the bed sagging more than usual? Was Curtis putting on weight? And she was sure he wasn’t that hairy-chested........<br /> <br /> <br /> Early the next morning, Sarah sat motionless on the bed, looking at Curtis next to her. “I understand now” she said quietly. “You poor thing.”<br /> <br /> Curtis said nothing, but growled quietly to himself as Sarah stroked his muzzle. The fur was soft and shiny, and Curtis cold wet nose glistened in the lamp light.<br /> <br /> “What can we do? There must be someone who can help you?”<br /> <br /> “What does it matter now?” growled Curtis. “I thought this kind of thing only happened in movies. Not in real life. I must have done something pretty bad to deserve this?”<br /> <br /> “You don’t know that. It might be hereditary or something else. How do we know?”<br /> <br /> “What am I going to do? It’ll soon be day light and I’m still like this!” he cried, holding up a pair of hairy paws to Sarah.<br /> <br /> “What’s worse, we’ve got our seminar today as well.” replied Sarah.<br /> <br /> “I can’t miss another lesson, but I can’t go like this either.” <br /> <br /> “Can’t you get dressed, and bandage your hands and face, and say you’ve got a nasty rash?” asked Sarah, rather timidly. Curtis growled again, and then said “None of my clothes will fit me now. Its hopeless!” Curtis put his paws up to his muzzle, and whined like a lost puppy.<br /> <br /> “Wait a minute, I’ve got a long cape and shawl. Perhaps you could put that on. Sure, it’ll look weird, but you can make up some excuse. At least your voice still sounds human, albeit one with a sore throat.” And with that Sarah dived into her trunk and produced the long black garments. She had to stand on the bed to reach Curtis’s shoulders.<br /> <br /> “This will never work.” protested Curtis, but Sarah was insistent. When she had covered him in her cape, Sarah hugged him. She would still love him, whatever he looked like. In fact, she found him quite sexy.<br /> <br /> “Thanks Sal. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” whimpered Curtis. <br /> <br /> “What about breakfast?” asked Sarah, “I’ve got some bran flakes”.<br /> <br /> Curtis snarled, and rolled his huge yellow eyes at her. Fortunately, Sarah had some raw meat in her small fridge-freezer, and this she gave to Curtis. She was taken aback though when Curtis pushed the plate onto the floor, and ate his breakfast off the ground. <br /> <br /> “We better make a move” said Sarah, “It’ll be light soon and people will be about.”<br /> <br /> Curtis started to cough violently, and Sarah looked anxious.<br /> <br /> “Don’t worry,” said Curtis when he had stopped coughing. “I think it was just hair-ball.”<br /> <br /> <br /> Under the cover of darkness, Sarah and Curtis sneaked into the library.<br /> <br /> “Morning.” said the librarian. Sarah and Curtis froze to the spot.<br /> <br /> “Urh... morning.” replied Curtis. The old man on the desk didn’t look up from his newspaper, and the odd couple continued into the economics section. No one ever went there, and it was next to the emergency exit that lead to their department.<br /> <br /> They got into their lesson early, and sat at the back. After an hour or so, the other students filed in. Most were either half-asleep or hungover, and none questioned the giant cloaked figure sitting next to little Sarah. The lecturer was too interested in what he had to say to notice. To Curtis and Sarah, the lesson seemed to drag on for hours. <br /> <br /> “What’s that smell?” asked Sarah quietly.<br /> <br /> “It’s me” said Curtis sheepishly. “When I’m stressed, I sweat like a...”<br /> <br /> “Werewolf?” interrupted Sarah.<br /> <br /> They both chuckled. <br /> <br /> The lesson eventually ended about lunch time. Sarah and Curtis waited for everyone to leave before they made their move.<br /> <br /> “What do we do now?” asked Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Get back to my flat without being noticed.” said Sarah calmly.<br /> <br /> “That’s not going to be easy at midday.” replied Curtis. The two got up, and started down the long, crowded corridor to the exit. Once they were out in the open, it wouldn’t be too bad.<br /> <br /> “Hey Sarah. Whose your new bloke?” called out a girl from her hockey club, “Glad to see you dumped that wimp Curtis”<br /> <br /> Sarah gave the girl a cold stare, but Curtis just kept walking. They had almost made it to the door when the girl heard Curtis’s claws scraping on the linoleum floor. Sarah did as well, and looked down to see the glint of the sharp talon protruding from under the cloak. What was worse, several other people had now seen it as well.<br /> <br /> “Hey! Who the hell are you?” called the girl. <br /> <br /> “We’d better run.” said Sarah, and they bolted for the door. The black cape got caught on the handle, and fell to the ground. Curtis was left in full, hairy view.<br /> <br /> The corridor was suddenly full of screams, shouts and fainting women - but Curtis and Sarah didn’t stay to see what happened.<br /> <br /> “We can't go back to either flat now!” <br /> <br /> “Get on my back!” yelled Curtis, and Sarah scrambled up. <br /> <br /> Sarah clung on for dear life as Curtis started running on all fours towards the woods. The sounds of pursuit died away. Eventually, Curtis stopped and Sarah got off.<br /> <br /> <br /> “I must go away.” said Curtis, “If I stay here we’ll both become part of some freak show or government investigation.”<br /> <br /> “I’m not leaving you.” cried Sarah.<br /> <br /> “You must, it’s the only way.” sobbed Curtis<br /> <br /> “Then I’m coming with you” she protested.<br /> <br /> “No baby, you are human - I’m not. I must go.” said Curtis. The last thing in the World he wanted was to give her up, but he also wanted what was best for her. <br /> <br /> Sarah stood for a moment thinking, and then said “I could become a werewolf too.”<br /> <br /> “How?”<br /> <br /> “If you bite me, that should work.” <br /> <br /> “I can’t. You’ve got so much to look forward to. I would probably fail my exams anyway - but your a model student.” <br /> <br /> “I don’t care” replied Sarah, “All I want is you.”<br /> <br /> “I won’t bite you anyway.” said Curtis firmly.<br /> <br /> “You don’t have to.” replied Sarah, and she produced a small penknife from her pocket and before Curtis stop her - slashed her wrist. Blood poured from the wound.<br /> <br /> “You must lick the wound, or I will bleed to death. Werewolves can recover from wounds like this - humans can’t” she said faintly. Curtis now had no choice. He padded over to her and licked her wrist. He then kissed her on the lips. It worked. Sarah suddenly sat up, and then fell forward onto all fours. Her long hair then started to spread all over her body. <br /> Once the transformation had finished, Curtis growled “We had better go now” and they ran off into woods together.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Clover_Hill&diff=3200 2007-10-06T12:19:09Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis Hi, my name’s Curtis. At least it used to be my name. It all happened a month ago. It was a beautiful day, and as a keen photography student I wanted to get some pictures ...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> Hi, my name’s Curtis. At least it used to be my name. It all happened a month ago. It was a beautiful day, and as a keen photography student I wanted to get some pictures of the local countryside for my class that evening. Near where I used to live is a rolling green piece of high ground, called Clover Hill. On that day I set off to climb and photograph the beauty close up. The TV had forecast rain later that day, so I dressed for all eventualities; jeans, sneakers, t-shirt, sweatshirt etc, and camera around my neck.<br /> <br /> I huffed my way up to Clover Hill. It took longer than I thought. My calves were screaming in pain from years of teenage lethargy, but finally at quarter past twelve, I reached the summit. Good thing too, because just as the TV had predicted, the heavens seemed to open up. The rain poured down heavily and I ducked into a rocky alcove for some shelter.<br /> <br /> I marveled in wide eyed wonder... It was a beautiful vantage point up there! I could see the green, lush valley far below, covered in mist from the ongoing downpour. Puffed from my climb, I decided to sit down on a smooth, flat granite cropping just inside the mouth of the cave and take in the view while waiting for the rain to stop. The view looked so inviting...as if the green meadows were made for running and rolling around in clover….<br /> <br /> A clap of thunder brought me out of this reverie. I glanced down at my watch and was shocked to see that it was 3:20! Had I been looking at this picturesque scene for THAT long? The afternoon sun was nowhere to be seen behind the gray clouds, but I could tell the day was quickly draining away. The rain showed no sign of slacking, but I didn't worry about that... I sprang up from my seat and began making my way to the craggy opening...when suddenly an angry thunderclap reverberated through the cavern, pricking my eyes in white, hot light. Dazed, my foot slipped on a wet outcropping of stones. I felt my ankle wrench, sending shooting pains up my right side. Clawing desperately for a handhold, but finding none... my fingers skittered over the smooth stony surface of the cave wall until my head SMACKED against the very same rock seat I was using just a moment ago. I blinked once and found myself totally stretched out on the pebbled ground of the cave. I blinked again and the world swimmed out of focus...head throbbing...a warm trickle of blood on my shoulder, a dull ache in my right ankle. By the time my mind could comprehend what happened, my eyelids fluttered into unconsciousness...<br /> <br /> When I awoke the sun was high overhead. Birds glided lazily across the blue sky. I sat up slowly, conscious of my throbbing head. My foot was no longer painful, but felt extremely heavy and awkward beneath me. The air around me buzzed with life. The whirr of the flies around my head, even the smell of the clover in the valley below, all assaulted my senses, reviving me as nothing else could. Despite my accident I felt alive and anxious to explore. I lifted my hand to my still painful head...and almost knocked myself out again. <br /> <br /> Confused and a bit disoriented, I lowered my hand to eye level and discovered that my fingers had congealed into a single unit, shortened and become covered with a thick layer of rock-hard nail-like substance. What I saw now was an almost cloven hoof-like appendage where my hand had been. I was very concerned and decided I must get home quickly. I staggered awkwardly to the outside of the small rocky cave. Once I reached the outside, the beauty of the now rain-washed valley struck me with such force that I thought of nothing else than climbing down and entering the paradise below. It was hard to maneuver down the rocky slope. My legs seemed to be unsteady and felt as if I would fall, although my feet had never felt more sure beneath me. Only partway down the hill, I tripped and lost my balance. I landed with my strange new hands and discovered that I could make better headway walking on all fours. That was strange. My broken camera dangled between my forearms, which seemed to have grown and were filling my sleeves more fully than before. Finding my balance I hurried to the valley bottom, imagining the feel and taste of the clover.<br /> <br /> I bounded down into the valley bottom, desperate to taste the wonderful clover. I was now only half-surprised to find walking on all fours easier. My hands, now hooves, felt really comfortable on the uneven ground. The same could not be said of my feet. My sneakers felt uncomfortably tight. My jeans and top felt tight too.<br /> <br /> I lowered my head to munch on the cool, refreshing clover. I didn’t care about getting home now. I just wanted to eat the clover. I ate and ate, far more than I could normally cram into my stomach. The weather was quite pleasant now, and I craned my head up in the cool breeze. <br /> <br /> I continued to eat and eat. My belt was incredibly tight by now, and my clothes began to fit more snugly around my torso and legs. Initially I worried about the growing pressure. What fate awaited me now?<br /> <br /> I shut my eyes and moaned. My mind was full of new sensations flowing through me. I licked my lips in anticipation. The animal urge was growing in me, pulsing through my veins. Every mouthful, every heart beat, every breath brought more growth, more pressure, more muscle, more pleasure and now …. more hair! Downy white and brown hair erupted all over my expanding body, which was swelling like a balloon. It was pulling my hooded blue sweatshirt snugly under my arms and around my chest. The collar started to choke me a bit.<br /> <br /> My massive growing thighs and buttocks were cramming my blue jeans like a second skin, whilst my sneakers began to groan as my feet fused into hooves. Before long the stitching and laces had burst allowing my feet to finish their transformation.<br /> <br /> The pain increased as I ate and grew. I could feel my clothes pull even tighter about me. How much longer would they hold out? My astonishing muscle growth began to accelerate, causing the fabric of my clothes to creak and groan in agony. I instinctively put my hands up to my collar to pull it wider to allow my neck room to grow, but my hands were already hard and hoof-like. They could not grip at all now, and I settled back to all fours to await events as my body continued to swell. The sweatshirt stitching under my arms began to give way very slowly stitch by stitch. Pop, pop, pop, pop.<br /> <br /> My metamorphosis was beautiful and slow. New muscles and cow-hair erupted all over my expanding frame. The mighty growth was going too fast for the exhausted stitching to keep up and cotton fabric itself splintered and exploded off my upper body in a shower of blue rags. This latest surge of growth carried on down my body to my thighs and buttocks. With a slow, delicious cracking sound – my huge bovine muscles began to prise apart the blue denim of my jeans, inch by inch running down each leg. With a sudden boom, the jeans flew to the ground in a crumpled heap of rags.<br /> <br /> I swished my long rope-like tail in the breeze, and carried on with my meal of clover. Yum yum! Mooooo!</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Blade&diff=3199 2007-10-06T12:17:17Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: By Jed Curtis Curtis arrived at his new house, trying to juggle his four suitcases. As he walked up the garden path, he was greeted by the sight of his grinning girlfriend, Sarah. She flu...</p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> Curtis arrived at his new house, trying to juggle his four suitcases. As he walked up the garden path, he was greeted by the sight of his grinning girlfriend, Sarah. She flung open the front door as soon as she saw Curtis arrive, and rushed towards him with her arms outstretched.<br /> <br /> &quot;I've missed you so much. How are you? Do you like the digs I've found? Let me help you with the cases. How was your journey?&quot; gabbled Sarah like an excited child, between a barrage of kisses.<br /> <br /> &quot;I've missed you too.&quot; replied Curtis softly. He leaned forward to kiss Sarah on the forehead, but she had already darted off into the house before they had connected.<br /> <br /> &quot;Do you want some grub? I'm making some sandwiches.&quot; called Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;Okay!&quot; shouted Curtis as he wandered around. Inside, the house was pleasantly decorated, if a little old-fashioned. Up the creaking stairs were the two bedrooms.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's got the other bedroom?&quot; called Curtis.<br /> <br /> &quot;What do you mean? There's one for you and one for me.&quot; came the reply. Curtis' heart sank. So she still wasn't ready for sharing a bed. Still, he had all term to change her mind.<br /> <br /> &quot;Here are your sarnies. I had to use that old envelope opener of yours to cut them.&quot; Curtis face stiffened. &quot;Don't use that for food. It's a family heirloom.&quot; he snapped.<br /> <br /> &quot;I'm sorry.&quot; she replied quietly. Curtis suddenly felt very guilty as he looked at the sheepish figure standing at the foot of the stairs, plate of sandwiches in hand.<br /> <br /> &quot;No, I'm sorry. Actually that knife gives me the creeps, but Granny insisted that I take it. She said it had saved my grandfather's honour once. I don't know what she means, but I've kept it all the same.&quot; said Curtis, as he brushed back Sarah's hair from across her face and then pressed her nose like a button to substitute as a punishment.<br /> <br /> &quot;It's time we made a move. We've got history in twenty minutes.&quot; said Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;You go, I'll be along in a minute.&quot; replied Curtis &quot;I've still got to unpack.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Okay, see you later. Don't be late.&quot; and Sarah scurried out the door. Curtis wandered back to his bedroom to finish his sandwiches. He wasn't bothered about punctuality - only fun. Just before he eventually left for his lesson, he dashed into the bathroom to draw a heart on the mirror in toothpaste, hoping that Sarah would see it when she got back.<br /> <br /> After their lesson, Curtis joined Sarah in the corridor.<br /> <br /> &quot;What do you fancy doing tonight?&quot; asked Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;I don't think I will. I've still got a lot of unpacking to do, and I'm a bit tired.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Would you mind if I went with the girls to the Union then? Only there's a new band playing tonight. And they're meant to be very good&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;No you go, I'll be fine.&quot; replied Curtis.<br /> <br /> That night, the house felt very empty once Sarah had left. Curtis settled down on his<br /> bed and shut his eyes, trying to blot out the rays of the full moon streaming through the curtain-less window. <br /> <br /> Blade tried to open the latches of the window, but his claws couldn't work the fiddly mechanism. Howling in anger, he pounded on the glass. Finally Blade leapt at the window. The double glazing shattered, and the beast was off into the night.<br /> <br /> It wasn't long before it had caught its first quarry. It had been too easy - food normally put up more of a fight than this. His claws could rip his prey to shreds in a flash. This small piece of meat was swallowed in one gulp. Easy kills were no challenge, and Blade was still hungry.<br /> <br /> Blade sat resting on his hind legs, and began to lick his fur. It had to be clean and shiny, otherwise he would be troubled with those fleas again - biting him while he was asleep.<br /> <br /> &quot;Where am I? &quot; thought Curtis.<br /> <br /> Blade didn't answer, but continued cleaning his coat.<br /> <br /> &quot;What am I doing? I must get back home.&quot;<br /> <br /> Blade's head sprang up. Someone was coming. He sniffed the air, but couldn't tell who it was.<br /> <br /> &quot;Who's there? &quot; called a disembodied voice. <br /> <br /> Blade snarled. He felt threatened. What should he do? To run was weak. He must fight.<br /> <br /> &quot;It's Dave the security guard. I can smell his peanut sandwiches. &quot; thought Curtis. &quot;If only he would pass on.&quot;<br /> <br /> &quot;Is anyone hurt? Can I help? &quot; called the kindly old man, as he flashed the beam of his torch about the bushes. Suddenly the guards torch shone on Blade, blinding him. Blade roared in anger, and leapt at the terrified guard.<br /> <br /> &quot;No! &quot; shouted Curtis, but he was too weak - and Blade was too strong. Curtis knew there was nothing he could do.<br /> <br /> &quot;TAYSTEEEEEE!&quot; growled Blade, as he picked pieces of chewed flesh out of his front teeth with his foreclaw. With a final howl, Blade stood up and ran into the night - looking for more prey.<br /> <br /> <br /> Next morning, Curtis managed to sneak back to his house without being seen. It was early, and most people were still in bed. He hadn't a key for the front door, so he darted around the back and climbed up the drainpipe to his open window. Broken glass lay everywhere, cutting Curtis' hands and feet.<br /> <br /> &quot;How am I going explain this, let alone pay for it! &quot; groaned Curtis to himself. What few articles of furniture he had were broken to pieces; the window was smashed and blood and mud littered the floor.<br /> <br /> &quot;Oh my God, suppose Sarah sees this!&quot; thought Curtis. He frantically began to tidy up, cramming the remains of his possessions into some black bags for the dustman to take. It was almost dawn, and Sarah would be awake soon.<br /> <br /> &quot;I must get rid of Blade. If this goes on someone will get killed!&quot; <br /> <br /> Then Curtis remembered the old security guard, and he sank to his knees. He was responsible. He began to cry. His tears turned the caked dirt on his face back into the red blood and mud it had been last night.<br /> <br /> <br /> Curtis left before Sarah awoke. He was sombre all day. He said nothing to anyone, least of all Sarah. He couldn't even look her in the eye. Fortunately today he had no actual lessons with her, and he managed to avoid her. Curtis hoped she hadn't noticed, but was almost certain she had.<br /> <br /> Late that afternoon, he returned to the house on his own. All day he had agonised over what he should do, and his lessons passed in a blur. In the last lecture of the day he had finally faced the inevitable. He had to protect others from Blade. Most of all, he had to protect Sarah. He returned to the house alone, and searched for the silver knife. Now he knew why his grandmother had given it to him. <br /> <br /> When he had found it, he hurried to his empty room. Curtis settled upon the floor, and reached across for a pad of paper and a pen. Resting it on his knee, he began to write. As he did, his eyes filled with old pain. <br /> <br /> <br /> Dearest Sarah,<br /> I don't know how to explain this to you or anyone, but I'll try. You must believe my words and my motives - and of my love for you.<br /> You know I've never liked to talk about my childhood. I told you that my parents divorced when I was only nine. What I didn't tell you was that my father moved away, and my Mum had to work nights to afford the items that weren't covered by the maintenance payments. My little brother was only three, and I had had to look after him. Many nights I was left dealing with his bed-wetting, and had to cuddle him when he threw a tantrum. Even after being repeatedly bullied myself at school, no one ever hugged me.<br /> <br /> I can't remember exactly when it first happened. There used to be a stretch of woodlands that backed onto my garden. I loved playing in the woods, exploring the nooks and crannies. It was my own little world - an escape from my real life. I wanted to live there permanently - to be one with the wilderness. At first this appeared to be no more than youthful exuberance.<br /> <br /> On sunny days when no one was at home, I would creep out into the woods. I would instinctively run to the dark thicket at the far end, away from the houses. I felt so happy there, just playing by myself. After a while I would sit on the ground and just look up at the trees and the sky beyond. At first I felt relaxed and happy, but then the urge began to grow. I felt the need to do something - but what? On some occasions, the urge would be very strong - more sexual. I would strip off my clothes and roll around on the ground. I would be covered from head to toe in leaf mulch and dirt - but I didn't care. I had a shower when I got home, and no-one ever knew.<br /> <br /> One day, when I was about thirteen, I went to the woods and something very strange happened. I changed. It was special, exciting. I seemed to hunch and grow. I had burst free from my humanity, and could roam free!<br /> <br /> I awoke the next morning, naked and filthy, but contented. I sneaked home when no one was there, and got in using the spare key hidden under the mat. I was excited at the time. I prided myself with the idea that no one else at school could change into a werewolf!<br /> <br /> This happened once a month for the next three years, and then several times a month after that. I could always feel it starting. The pulsing in my arm, the twitching muscles in my legs, the prickling on the back of my neck, the sharpness of my teeth. I can recall the image even now. I'm in bed, and the lights are off. I look down at my hands. In the moonlight I can see my nails beginning to grow, but then I remember nothing more until morning. When I awake, my room is a mess, the sheets are all in a pile on the floor and my pyjamas are torn to shreds. Thankfully my mother was always at work when it happened. What would she have thought? <br /> <br /> That was just the start, now it's turned evil. Now it's awful! Last term they bulldozed down the woods and built a housing estate. That has made the dark power all the more suppressed, more potent, more sickening, more depraved, and more frequent. I can contain it no longer. Last night I killed someone. I no longer deserve to live.<br /> Goodbye Sarah. I hope you can forgive me. <br /> No matter what, I will always love you.<br /> <br /> Curtis<br /> <br /> As he finished, his tears dropped onto the paper, smudging his name.<br /> <br /> &quot;Best thing really&quot; thought Curtis. &quot;It would have been better if my whole life could be simply erased.&quot;<br /> <br /> He put down the paper, and picked up his Grandfather's knife. Just as he held it up to his heart, he began to waver as a million doubts flashed through his tortured mind.<br /> <br /> &quot;I don't want to die! What about Sarah? She'll be the one to find me! What's Mum going to think? Whose going to nag my kid brother to do his homework? This can't be the answer. Surely there's another way to stop Blade? There must be! &quot; <br /> <br /> Curtis arm began to go limp, and the knife dropped to the floor.<br /> <br /> &quot;I will go to the Police, and confess. At least in a secure mental hospital I will be safely locked away. &quot; <br /> <br /> Just then, Curtis heard the front door open.<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you there dear?&quot;<br /> <br /> It was Sarah.<br /> <br /> &quot;I'm so glad to be home. I've had an awful time. Where have you been all day? I've been trying to find you.&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis began to sob. Just moments earlier he was about to leave Sarah forever - now he had to face her.<br /> <br /> &quot;Did you hear about poor old Dave, the security guard?&quot; called Sarah. &quot;I'm scared. Some evil sicko cut him up. And what's more, I heard a window smash down our road last night - and something was outside my window. There's a huge paw print in the garden. I was terrified - I called to you but you didn't reply.&quot; <br /> <br /> There was a pause.<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you there Curtis?&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis desperately wanted to reply, to run downstairs and sweep Sarah up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be all right, but the sun was setting. Curtis was becoming hungry, and Blade was growing stronger. Curtis looked at his hands - fur was sprouting out of the skin. A change was coming!<br /> <br /> &quot;Are you in the bathroom Curtis?&quot; called Sarah, and Curtis heard the stairs creek.<br /> <br /> There was no time to think. Seizing the knife Curtis thrust the sharp salvation into his heart. The pain soared and then fell away. He could feel Blade scream as he screamed &quot;It's Over!&quot;<br /> <br /> Curtis fell to the ground, and the knife clattered onto the floor.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=3198 2007-10-06T12:12:17Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED CURTIS!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference). I am very happy for people to write sequals to these stories etc, but please acknowledge where the characters came from.<br /> <br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Ant_Trouble&diff=3197 2007-10-06T12:10:59Z

<p>Jedcurtis: </p> <hr /> <div>By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> It was a sunny afternoon, and Curtis Brookes waited impatiently on the station platform, kicking stones into the rail gully to ease the boredom.<br /> <br /> “Where is the train? It was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” grumbled the impatient boy to himself. Every day he had to make this journey, and every time it seemed to get longer and more tedious.<br /> <br /> As he turned to walk back to the station to ask the ticket officer why the train was late, something caught his eye. Where the tarmac on the platform met the brick edging, there was a small pile of sandy soil, that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon sun.<br /> <br /> Curtis knelt down to have a closer look. There were small black shapes scurrying around the sand pile, carrying all manner of leaf fragments and strange egg-like spheres. Curtis knew immediately that it was only an ants’ nest, but something was odd about it. He could not be sure, but the ants were larger and more thickset than any he had seen in his garden.<br /> <br /> Curtis wanted to show someone, but all his friends caught a different train to him. They all lived in the town, but his parents had decided that the country air would do the family some good. To Curtis, all it meant was that he had a long, lonely journey to school every day.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to gaze at the strange ants, and poked at them with a stick. They ignored him, and carried on with their menial tasks. Frustrated by a lack of any reaction, Curtis raised his foot and slammed the sole of his shoe down upon the nest. He did this several times until all the ants above the ground were dead. With a glint of sadistic, childlike satisfaction Curtis turned and walked back to the middle of platform as his train home finally arrived. Sitting on the train, Curtis reached into his bag and started to read his comic. <br /> <br /> “Ouch! What the hell?” cried Curtis, grabbing his ankle. Pulling up the left leg of his trousers, Curtis saw one of the ants with its jaws embedded in his skin. He pulled it away, but the head stayed locked to his ankle. Using his fingernails, Curtis prised the small bead from it meal. A yellow ooze seeped from the wound, and Curtis winced in pain. <br /> <br /> “Ants don’t bite like that!” he thought, “I’ll get them back tomorrow!”<br /> <br /> That evening, Curtis settled down with his parents to watch the evening programmes. His ankle was still sore and red. Curtis pulled his socks up high, hoping to hide the swelling.<br /> <br /> “This is the Six o’clock News” said the announcer sternly. “The Head lines tonight!”<br /> <br /> After several worthy issues about World events and politics, a small feature came on about a Second World War chemical weapons' dump that had been discovered, and was leaking toxic chemicals into the ground.<br /> <br /> “That looks familiar?” thought Curtis. <br /> <br /> Suddenly the reporter said the name of the town “Wentfield Station!”<br /> <br /> “Yow, that’s my stop!” said Curtis to his parents, who were not really listening.<br /> <br /> “That’s nice” said Mum.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps you’ll be on TV?” said Dad.<br /> <br /> Curtis sat in silence. No one ever took any notice of him, not his parents, not his class mates, not even the ants - until tomorrow, when he was going to poison them.<br /> <br /> The next morning, Curtis sneaked into the garden before anyone was awake, and stole a tube of insect poison from the paint shed. Tucking it away in his bag, Curtis set off for school. On the train he planned how he was going to attack the ants. Like some teenage Napoleon, he devised his strategy. <br /> <br /> “First I’ll strike with powder. Then I’ll pick off any stragglers who try to escape, then I’ll...” thought Curtis. His ankle was still hurting, and was even more swollen than yesterday. it had been agony to put on his shoe.<br /> <br /> On the platform, Curtis waited for the other passengers to vacate the platform. Crossing over the footbridge to the platform with the ants, Curtis opened the tube of powder and sprinkled it over the rebuilt ant hill. It took a few seconds for the poison to work, but eventually the ants were slowing, and dying - dropping their bundles along their roots.<br /> <br /> “Ha ha, that’ll teach you to mess with Curtis Brookes the First!” shouted the delirious school boy.<br /> <br /> As the last word slipped from his mouth, Curtis heard a deep rumbling. It became louder and louder. Suddenly, the tarmac of the platform bulged upwards and split. Forcing its way through the ground was a giant ant. It was nothing like the puppet giant ants movie makers used in horror films. It was larger than a dog, and was reddy brown. Its snapping, slavering jaws were as big as a pair of garden sheers. It instinctively turned and faced Curtis. Lifting itself clear of the ground, it started to move towards him.<br /> <br /> Curtis was petrified, literally. He couldn’t move, and the ant came closer and closer. It was about to reach him when a train came rumbling through the station. It was one of the scheduled stoppers, but slowed down because of the red signal at the junction ahead. Seizing his chance, Curtis leapt onto the slow moving train and headed home.<br /> <br /> Curtis banged on the door. Mum opened it in a flurry, and Curtis fell into her arms.<br /> <br /> “Oh Mum, there was this giant ant and it chased me, and I couldn’t get away. I took some poison from the shed and I tried to kill them, but it came out of the ground, and I ran off and I’m sorry.....” gabbled Curtis, who then collapsed onto the floor.<br /> <br /> That evening, the doctor left Curtis’s side and spoke to his parents. <br /> <br /> “You say he’s been hallucinating.” said the Doctor.<br /> <br /> “Yes, he’s mentioned something about giant ants?” replied Dad.<br /> <br /> “That’s not good. You heard about that chemical leak in Wentfield. I’m concerned that young Curtis has been overcome with fumes - and may be suffering some of the affects. I would very much like to take into hospital tonight for observation. Just to be sure” said the doctor.<br /> <br /> “Well, whatever you think is best.” replied Mum, as she entered Curtis’s room. Curtis sat up, and looked at his Mum with frightened eyes. His mother told him of the doctor diagnosis.<br /> <br /> “But I did see a giant ant. I did!” protested Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Of course you did.” patronised Dad.<br /> <br /> “No one ever believes me.” sulked Curtis.<br /> <br /> Later that night, Curtis was in the hospital. His parents had said good night, and had left. Curtis was now alone in the room.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps I did dream it all?” thought Curtis as he flopped back onto his bed.<br /> <br /> As he lay there, there was a strange tingling sensation running throughout his body. He looked down at his hands - but were they hands? The fingers were elongating, pushing his nails outwards. He feet were also stretching and becoming insect-like. He reached up to his temple as two fibrous antennae broke through his skin.<br /> <br /> “I’m turning into an ant!” cried Curtis, but his voice only produced a squeak.<br /> Twisting on his bed, Curtis tried to bang on the wall, but he fell on the floor. An extra pair of arms tore through the side of his pyjamas, and his skin turned hard and brown.<br /> <br /> “Oh well,” thought Curtis. “On the bright side, they’ll have to believe me now!”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=Ant_Trouble&diff=3196 2007-10-06T12:10:32Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: ANT TROUBLE By Jed Curtis It was a sunny afternoon, and Curtis Brookes waited impatiently on the station platform, kicking stones into the rail gully to ease the boredom. “Where is th...</p> <hr /> <div>ANT TROUBLE<br /> By Jed Curtis<br /> <br /> <br /> It was a sunny afternoon, and Curtis Brookes waited impatiently on the station platform, kicking stones into the rail gully to ease the boredom.<br /> <br /> “Where is the train? It was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” grumbled the impatient boy to himself. Every day he had to make this journey, and every time it seemed to get longer and more tedious.<br /> <br /> As he turned to walk back to the station to ask the ticket officer why the train was late, something caught his eye. Where the tarmac on the platform met the brick edging, there was a small pile of sandy soil, that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon sun.<br /> <br /> Curtis knelt down to have a closer look. There were small black shapes scurrying around the sand pile, carrying all manner of leaf fragments and strange egg-like spheres. Curtis knew immediately that it was only an ants’ nest, but something was odd about it. He could not be sure, but the ants were larger and more thickset than any he had seen in his garden.<br /> <br /> Curtis wanted to show someone, but all his friends caught a different train to him. They all lived in the town, but his parents had decided that the country air would do the family some good. To Curtis, all it meant was that he had a long, lonely journey to school every day.<br /> <br /> Curtis continued to gaze at the strange ants, and poked at them with a stick. They ignored him, and carried on with their menial tasks. Frustrated by a lack of any reaction, Curtis raised his foot and slammed the sole of his shoe down upon the nest. He did this several times until all the ants above the ground were dead. With a glint of sadistic, childlike satisfaction Curtis turned and walked back to the middle of platform as his train home finally arrived. Sitting on the train, Curtis reached into his bag and started to read his comic. <br /> <br /> “Ouch! What the hell?” cried Curtis, grabbing his ankle. Pulling up the left leg of his trousers, Curtis saw one of the ants with its jaws embedded in his skin. He pulled it away, but the head stayed locked to his ankle. Using his fingernails, Curtis prised the small bead from it meal. A yellow ooze seeped from the wound, and Curtis winced in pain. <br /> <br /> “Ants don’t bite like that!” he thought, “I’ll get them back tomorrow!”<br /> <br /> That evening, Curtis settled down with his parents to watch the evening programmes. His ankle was still sore and red. Curtis pulled his socks up high, hoping to hide the swelling.<br /> <br /> “This is the Six o’clock News” said the announcer sternly. “The Head lines tonight!”<br /> <br /> After several worthy issues about World events and politics, a small feature came on about a Second World War chemical weapons' dump that had been discovered, and was leaking toxic chemicals into the ground.<br /> <br /> “That looks familiar?” thought Curtis. <br /> <br /> Suddenly the reporter said the name of the town “Wentfield Station!”<br /> <br /> “Yow, that’s my stop!” said Curtis to his parents, who were not really listening.<br /> <br /> “That’s nice” said Mum.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps you’ll be on TV?” said Dad.<br /> <br /> Curtis sat in silence. No one ever took any notice of him, not his parents, not his class mates, not even the ants - until tomorrow, when he was going to poison them.<br /> <br /> The next morning, Curtis sneaked into the garden before anyone was awake, and stole a tube of insect poison from the paint shed. Tucking it away in his bag, Curtis set off for school. On the train he planned how he was going to attack the ants. Like some teenage Napoleon, he devised his strategy. <br /> <br /> “First I’ll strike with powder. Then I’ll pick off any stragglers who try to escape, then I’ll...” thought Curtis. His ankle was still hurting, and was even more swollen than yesterday. it had been agony to put on his shoe.<br /> <br /> On the platform, Curtis waited for the other passengers to vacate the platform. Crossing over the footbridge to the platform with the ants, Curtis opened the tube of powder and sprinkled it over the rebuilt ant hill. It took a few seconds for the poison to work, but eventually the ants were slowing, and dying - dropping their bundles along their roots.<br /> <br /> “Ha ha, that’ll teach you to mess with Curtis Brookes the First!” shouted the delirious school boy.<br /> <br /> As the last word slipped from his mouth, Curtis heard a deep rumbling. It became louder and louder. Suddenly, the tarmac of the platform bulged upwards and split. Forcing its way through the ground was a giant ant. It was nothing like the puppet giant ants movie makers used in horror films. It was larger than a dog, and was reddy brown. Its snapping, slavering jaws were as big as a pair of garden sheers. It instinctively turned and faced Curtis. Lifting itself clear of the ground, it started to move towards him.<br /> <br /> Curtis was petrified, literally. He couldn’t move, and the ant came closer and closer. It was about to reach him when a train came rumbling through the station. It was one of the scheduled stoppers, but slowed down because of the red signal at the junction ahead. Seizing his chance, Curtis leapt onto the slow moving train and headed home.<br /> <br /> Curtis banged on the door. Mum opened it in a flurry, and Curtis fell into her arms.<br /> <br /> “Oh Mum, there was this giant ant and it chased me, and I couldn’t get away. I took some poison from the shed and I tried to kill them, but it came out of the ground, and I ran off and I’m sorry.....” gabbled Curtis, who then collapsed onto the floor.<br /> <br /> That evening, the doctor left Curtis’s side and spoke to his parents. <br /> <br /> “You say he’s been hallucinating.” said the Doctor.<br /> <br /> “Yes, he’s mentioned something about giant ants?” replied Dad.<br /> <br /> “That’s not good. You heard about that chemical leak in Wentfield. I’m concerned that young Curtis has been overcome with fumes - and may be suffering some of the affects. I would very much like to take into hospital tonight for observation. Just to be sure” said the doctor.<br /> <br /> “Well, whatever you think is best.” replied Mum, as she entered Curtis’s room. Curtis sat up, and looked at his Mum with frightened eyes. His mother told him of the doctor diagnosis.<br /> <br /> “But I did see a giant ant. I did!” protested Curtis.<br /> <br /> “Of course you did.” patronised Dad.<br /> <br /> “No one ever believes me.” sulked Curtis.<br /> <br /> Later that night, Curtis was in the hospital. His parents had said good night, and had left. Curtis was now alone in the room.<br /> <br /> “Perhaps I did dream it all?” thought Curtis as he flopped back onto his bed.<br /> <br /> As he lay there, there was a strange tingling sensation running throughout his body. He looked down at his hands - but were they hands? The fingers were elongating, pushing his nails outwards. He feet were also stretching and becoming insect-like. He reached up to his temple as two fibrous antennae broke through his skin.<br /> <br /> “I’m turning into an ant!” cried Curtis, but his voice only produced a squeak.<br /> Twisting on his bed, Curtis tried to bang on the wall, but he fell on the floor. An extra pair of arms tore through the side of his pyjamas, and his skin turned hard and brown.<br /> <br /> “Oh well,” thought Curtis. “On the bright side, they’ll have to believe me now!”</div>

Jedcurtis https://shifti.org/index.php?title=User:Jedcurtis&diff=3195 2007-10-06T12:08:14Z

<p>Jedcurtis: New page: THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED CURTIS! Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal pr...</p> <hr /> <div>THE TWISTED WORLD OF JED CURTIS!<br /> <br /> Here is a guide to my stories. Those marked with a star are more graphic, those without are more light-hearted. All contain slow TF scenes (my personal preference).<br /> STORIES:<br /> <br /> [[ANT TROUBLE]]<br /> Boy gets bitten by radioactive ant!<br /> <br /> [[BLADE *]]<br /> Youth worries about his dark side.<br /> <br /> [[DEGREE IN LYCANTHROPY]]<br /> Student has to deal with lycanthropy<br /> <br /> [[CLAW HILL]]<br /> Wind of Change Universe story. Teenager learns the bear necessities of life.<br /> <br /> [[CLOVER HILL]]<br /> Eating all that clover can't be good for yooooooo.<br /> <br /> [[MISTER UNIVERSE *]]<br /> Puny youth drinks a magic potion to make him Mr Universe, with cosmic results.<br /> <br /> [[SIBLING TROUBLES]]<br /> Two teenagers bemoan their irritating siblings, but unbeknown to them they are walking into a TF trap.<br /> <br /> [[STABLE MANNERS *]]<br /> Two young lovers are captured by maniacal farmer-come-wizard, who needs two additions to his stable.<br /> <br /> [[WACKY BACCY *]]<br /> Becareful what you smoke. <br /> <br /> [[WHALE JELLY]]<br /> Magic potions galore, but you'll have to read ORKA-bout it.</div>

Jedcurtis