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She is alone in the silence, in a room where a shelf lays overturned, its contents spilled acrossed the floor. A smashed television continues cackling in the corner, its sparks illuminating the shards of dishes and cups on the floor. Tonight's dinner remains cold and whole along other objects. Water trickles down the drawer, forming a small pool at its foot. There a gold fish struggles, its will to live strong. The curtains, ripped and torn, starts to soak up the water, its red cover darkening. The clouds part, letting moonlight in through the room's one solitary shattered window.
The wind comes in uninvited, blowing dry leaves in, flipping pages of unread novels, and sending a chill down the girl's spine. The house groans, a death croak to her. Then, the wind dies, the sparks stop dancing from the television, and the gold fish becomes still, breathing it's last rasping breath. All is silent, the room cast in unreal light from the moon, a momentary beauty in this horrorific scene. Its pale light throwing shadows upon the walls and floor. Splatters of red dye the wallpaper.
The girl lays in the corner of the room, desperately trying to merge with the wall, to become part of the house, and more importantly, be invisible. She makes another effort, pushing off fom her side, trying to sit upright. A momentary victory, she is up. Then her left arm gives out, slipping on the wet floor. She crashes down hard, chipping a tooth. She moans quietly, and stops once again.. The house is empty, her family gone, taken away, never to be seen again. The silence of the night is broken by a creek in the next room. Seconds pass, and it is quiet once again. Horrors never meant to be seen happened tonight. Strangely, the girl cannot cry, but instead stares in fright at the door slightly ajar across the room. She glances to the window, then back to the door. Had she heard something, or was it her imagination. All the while, being deathly silent. She chances, and takes another breath. Blinding white pain engulfs her. The pain is nearly too much to bare. A gasp, blood pumping from her abdomen. She places both hands on the wound, trying to urge the blood to stop, to stay. Her heart beats painfully in her chest. Every breath became less, as her life began to escape.
A wail erupts from the outside, but the girl can only hear the slowing thump of her heart. Her senses dull, her eyes begin to dim. She quickly shuts her eyes, to avoid the inevitable truth that the light of the world is gradually darkening. She didn't want to die.
Her heart was nothing more than a slow pacing beat. It tried hard to keep on going, to keep on pumping blood. But to no avail, too much was being pooled around her, urging her to slip into a state of unconciousness. Red liquid seeped through her fingers, her dark eyes opened as she brought her hands to her face, staining it vermillion. Tears flow down her cheeks, colored red.
Choking a whisper out, she questions,”Why must you do this, why did you choose to write a horror story?”
From the nothing, an answer comes. The voice echoes across the room, but only she can hear it. She knows this, and takes comfort in this momentary lapse. Those beasts outside would not be alarmed by this loud yet frail voice.
“You are Samantha Benz, a 17 year old girl, who stumbles upon something that should not have been stumbled upon..”
“And you call yourself an author. Stumble upon something that should not have been stumbled upon..”
“Silence Sam. I did not give you permission to talk. Keep up that attitude, and I will end this story.”
“You can't control me, I am free and independent from your power, from fate.”
A violent shudder goes through her frame, spewing more blood from her wound. Gasping at the pain she continues.
“Just stop, please. No more, I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything.”
“That's better.”
“But first, bring them back”
“They're dead Sam, and I refuse to go back on my word, quite litterally”
A howl rips through the night, and a car alarm goes off in the distance. Droplets of rain, the size of dimes, smack violently against the earth. The sound of rain builds up into a crescendo, until all that can be heard is a steady drum of pitter patters.
Samantha makes an effort to look out the window, in hopes of seeing the moon once last time. Instead, she is greeted by two steely yellow eyes, glaring back at her intently.
“You can't scare me anymore. Those beasts have done what you've sent them to do. Make them bigger, more savage, more vile. It does not matter anymore. You've done the damage. Just finish me please.”
“I can't do that Sam.”
“Why not just create a mind reading monster, and just take the information? Why the ******** do I need to say it. You can create unimaginable things, and yet you can't get what you want?”
“You know why that doesn't work Sam. We've been through this countless times now. I believe this is chapter 10 now. For some strange reason, I can't control you, mold you, or anything. This world in my hands, I control, yet you are free.”
“How am I free, my life is a living hell in this world. What if this is hell?”
Samantha's voice sounds weak, diminshing, fading away. It is quiet compared to the rain outside.
In a mocking tone, the voice says, “Sam, my darling, I've got to go. I'll let you live, for your death shall accomplish nothing. Only pain inflicted upon you will bring me anything. I came close this time, but why won't you end this suffering of yours? It is your loss. You shall live on, and continue this novel of ours!”
A wail outside pierces through the sound of the crashing rain. The room is filled with blue and red, continuously flashing through her windows. The yellow eyes are gone, to be replaced by a man. Men burst in through through the door, making their way to her.
She feels herself lifted, and placed on a cart. Her conscience begins to fade.
She murmurs, “God, help me.”
The response is quick. “No god Sam. It's just me and my pen. Tata for now, and be a good girl while I'm gone!”
“********...”
She closes her eyes. Ending chapter 10.
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- Title: Struggle Against the Pen
- Artist: HiroMoran
- Description: This short story is about a girl named Samantha, who struggles to free herself from her story. She is a character in the story that cannot be controlled by the author of the story. Samantha knows something, that the writer,(the master of the pen,) wants badly. While the writer can influence the world around Samantha, she cannot directly affect her. Thus, it becomes a story about a 17 year old girl, a character in a novel, who struggles against the writer of the novel.
- Date: 03/10/2009
- Tags: struggle against writer character samantha
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Comments (3 Comments)
- grimusdave - 05/12/2009
- I like the plot idea. 6/5
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- xx-luxa misery-xx - 03/16/2009
- wooooowwwwww smile
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- b00_2 - 03/13/2009
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i liked it.
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