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u cuming or shud i get a red carpet for you? Muhammad TAimoor
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Short Story Competition
- Thread starter Rutzaba
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Can I rewrite it? But this time it will be horror and suspensewen evryone has posted there stories dear
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sure loveCan I rewrite it? But this time it will be horror and suspense
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- Messages
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- 273
- Messages
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Nice!
thank you! ^^
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His phone call was very exciting, his voice full of charm explaining every thing about his proceedings in the new case. How Carl hated thieves, and their cruel intentions. He had worked out a way to catch them, and that was why I got the invitation to his farmhouse. I was reluctant at first, maybe because of the many things I stole from his room during our hostel life, and maybe because I never liked police. But I had to go there. He started acting weird, right from the doorstep. Maybe his plan was lost, maybe something bad had happened. Carl led me inside, in his cozy sitting room. He looked confused, and thoughtful. He was a good friend, supported me in every step, and trying to pay the debt back, I acted like one too. I tried asking him about the case, he kept staring at the fireplace. No reply, no nothing. The night was turning darker, and the room was still dead silent. He hadn't uttered a single word, just the same gesture. Something was wrong, very wrong. That's when I saw the knife, right by his armchair. His face was dimly lit by the burning fire, his fingers moving swiftly in the empty air. I stood up, realizing the danger. His face turned towards the disturbance, which was me in that case. I ran for the door, turned the lock, swung open the door and slammed it behind just in case to stop him from following. Pacing towards the car, I lunged for the door and thrashed onto the driving seat. I could breathe now, I was safe. I glanced at the mirror. I knew the reason now. I was wearing Carl's stolen shirt.
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nice but not awesom
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mine would give u the chills... its giving me atleast. but assignment abhi is lie der lag rhi hy
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sorry people my story is being extreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeely long
here how it starts tho
I don’t know if I was imagining it or was my best friend actually acting weird. Although there was nothing unusual about being invited to his farmhouse, which I have been visiting ever since I was six, but my reservations weren’t mere superstitions either.
For one thing I couldn’t remember ever going to the place without Andy’s parents, for another, never on a hired car. I reasoned with myself the degree to which I was being paranoid and the causes of my best friend’s behavior.
That, however, did not mean that the journey to Derbyshire was any less beautiful. The vast grounds that we passed by in our journey were full of lush green grass and the reddish brown mountains in the background. The small lakes were so beautiful it seemed like they were made of silver and the only more stunning feature was the sunlight falling like rays of gold. Although all this was quite enough to place a smile on my face, my love of it actually lay in the rust colored chestnut trees and the lovely small cottages that were scattered in close groups at random intervals on the fields.
I hitched up the jacket I was wearing, it was a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. As the journey continued north the distance between the houses began to increase, and so did the size of the houses. To many, big houses with unkempt gardens may not be remotely interesting, but to me it meant a lot. As it had been one of these houses that I had spent my entire childhood worth of holidays not to mention a considerable part of my teens. From the smell of the grounds to the crunch of the gravel beneath the car, I loved everything about Derbyshire.
Soon enough we reached the familiar neighborhood of the Steel mansion, and there it was, I thought. The huge somewhat derelict building that I had loved more than my home stood in a morosely grey color which, if anything, only added to its beauty. As if someone had turned a tap on memories started flooding into my mind, at 5 we had first learnt how to ride bicycles here, at 7 we had bought pet rabbits here to take care of and had cried together as we had discovered them dead across the street some time later. I remembered having broken Andy’s new toy car, and had been expecting to be killed by Andy when he had said the words that I still like repeating, he had said that he would always prefer skin over plastic.
the rest il post oon my blog in a day or two in sha Allah
here how it starts tho
I don’t know if I was imagining it or was my best friend actually acting weird. Although there was nothing unusual about being invited to his farmhouse, which I have been visiting ever since I was six, but my reservations weren’t mere superstitions either.
For one thing I couldn’t remember ever going to the place without Andy’s parents, for another, never on a hired car. I reasoned with myself the degree to which I was being paranoid and the causes of my best friend’s behavior.
That, however, did not mean that the journey to Derbyshire was any less beautiful. The vast grounds that we passed by in our journey were full of lush green grass and the reddish brown mountains in the background. The small lakes were so beautiful it seemed like they were made of silver and the only more stunning feature was the sunlight falling like rays of gold. Although all this was quite enough to place a smile on my face, my love of it actually lay in the rust colored chestnut trees and the lovely small cottages that were scattered in close groups at random intervals on the fields.
I hitched up the jacket I was wearing, it was a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. As the journey continued north the distance between the houses began to increase, and so did the size of the houses. To many, big houses with unkempt gardens may not be remotely interesting, but to me it meant a lot. As it had been one of these houses that I had spent my entire childhood worth of holidays not to mention a considerable part of my teens. From the smell of the grounds to the crunch of the gravel beneath the car, I loved everything about Derbyshire.
Soon enough we reached the familiar neighborhood of the Steel mansion, and there it was, I thought. The huge somewhat derelict building that I had loved more than my home stood in a morosely grey color which, if anything, only added to its beauty. As if someone had turned a tap on memories started flooding into my mind, at 5 we had first learnt how to ride bicycles here, at 7 we had bought pet rabbits here to take care of and had cried together as we had discovered them dead across the street some time later. I remembered having broken Andy’s new toy car, and had been expecting to be killed by Andy when he had said the words that I still like repeating, he had said that he would always prefer skin over plastic.
the rest il post oon my blog in a day or two in sha Allah
- Messages
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- 523
oops here
I don’t know if I was imagining it or was my best friend actually acting weird. Although there was nothing unusual about being invited to his farmhouse, which I have been visiting ever since I was six, but my reservations weren’t mere superstitions either.
For one thing I couldn’t remember ever going to the place without Andy’s parents, for another, never on a hired car. I reasoned with myself the degree to which I was being paranoid and the causes of my best friend’s behavior.
That, however, did not mean that the journey to Derbyshire was any less beautiful. The vast grounds that we passed by in our journey were full of lush green grass and the reddish brown mountains in the background. The small lakes were so beautiful it seemed like they were made of silver and the only more stunning feature was the sunlight falling like rays of gold. Although all this was quite enough to place a smile on my face, my love of it actually lay in the rust colored chestnut trees and the lovely small cottages that were scattered in close groups at random intervals on the fields.
I hitched up the jacket I was wearing, it was a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. As the journey continued north the distance between the houses began to increase, and so did the size of the houses. To many, big houses with unkempt gardens may not be remotely interesting, but to me it meant a lot. As it had been one of these houses that I had spent my entire childhood worth of holidays not to mention a considerable part of my teens. From the smell of the grounds to the crunch of the gravel beneath the car, I loved everything about Derbyshire.
Soon enough we reached the familiar neighborhood of the Steel mansion, and there it was, I thought. The huge somewhat derelict building that I had loved more than my home stood in a morosely grey color which, if anything, only added to its beauty. As if someone had turned a tap on memories started flooding into my mind, at 5 we had first learnt how to ride bicycles here, at 7 we had bought pet rabbits here to take care of and had cried together as we had discovered them dead across the street some time later. I remembered having broken Andy’s new toy car, and had been expecting to be killed by Andy when he had said the words that I still like repeating, he had said that he would always prefer skin over plastic.
Thinking about this I turned towards Andy to see if he was also thinking the same thing… but looking at him only reminded me that he was not acting normal. It was as if he was someone with Andy’s face, with his body… but wasn’t Andy. I looked at him for a couple of minutes as he stared blankly at the road ahead of him, strangely lost in thought. I cleared my throat to bring him out of his reverie, to my surprise however, he didn’t even look at me but started walking into the house maintaining his silence.
I did the only thing that I could have done; I hitched my bag and followed his lead into the house. The mansion from the inside was huge, consisting of many rooms and naturally a lot of servants. I stepped onto the dusty floor of the steel mansion. Everything was as I had last visited there, except that the fire was not lit. having known the dimensions of the house very well, it didn’t matter to me that the light was scarce, but the absence of the servants only added to the abnormalities of my visit.
I don’t know if I was imagining it or was my best friend actually acting weird. Although there was nothing unusual about being invited to his farmhouse, which I have been visiting ever since I was six, but my reservations weren’t mere superstitions either.
For one thing I couldn’t remember ever going to the place without Andy’s parents, for another, never on a hired car. I reasoned with myself the degree to which I was being paranoid and the causes of my best friend’s behavior.
That, however, did not mean that the journey to Derbyshire was any less beautiful. The vast grounds that we passed by in our journey were full of lush green grass and the reddish brown mountains in the background. The small lakes were so beautiful it seemed like they were made of silver and the only more stunning feature was the sunlight falling like rays of gold. Although all this was quite enough to place a smile on my face, my love of it actually lay in the rust colored chestnut trees and the lovely small cottages that were scattered in close groups at random intervals on the fields.
I hitched up the jacket I was wearing, it was a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. As the journey continued north the distance between the houses began to increase, and so did the size of the houses. To many, big houses with unkempt gardens may not be remotely interesting, but to me it meant a lot. As it had been one of these houses that I had spent my entire childhood worth of holidays not to mention a considerable part of my teens. From the smell of the grounds to the crunch of the gravel beneath the car, I loved everything about Derbyshire.
Soon enough we reached the familiar neighborhood of the Steel mansion, and there it was, I thought. The huge somewhat derelict building that I had loved more than my home stood in a morosely grey color which, if anything, only added to its beauty. As if someone had turned a tap on memories started flooding into my mind, at 5 we had first learnt how to ride bicycles here, at 7 we had bought pet rabbits here to take care of and had cried together as we had discovered them dead across the street some time later. I remembered having broken Andy’s new toy car, and had been expecting to be killed by Andy when he had said the words that I still like repeating, he had said that he would always prefer skin over plastic.
Thinking about this I turned towards Andy to see if he was also thinking the same thing… but looking at him only reminded me that he was not acting normal. It was as if he was someone with Andy’s face, with his body… but wasn’t Andy. I looked at him for a couple of minutes as he stared blankly at the road ahead of him, strangely lost in thought. I cleared my throat to bring him out of his reverie, to my surprise however, he didn’t even look at me but started walking into the house maintaining his silence.
I did the only thing that I could have done; I hitched my bag and followed his lead into the house. The mansion from the inside was huge, consisting of many rooms and naturally a lot of servants. I stepped onto the dusty floor of the steel mansion. Everything was as I had last visited there, except that the fire was not lit. having known the dimensions of the house very well, it didn’t matter to me that the light was scarce, but the absence of the servants only added to the abnormalities of my visit.
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More please!
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no one else participatin? shall i consider this comp to b closed?
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^yes please
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*facepalm* wait you mean close this thread?? :O I thought you meant announce the winners and move on to the next topic :s
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yes i meant to close this topic
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good stories fellas
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yes i meant to close this topic
Well exams are coming up. Maybe thats why no one's participating =|