Friday, 24 November 2017

The Bounty Tax of Death (Part 9)

In no time, without thinking for a second, he ran straight passed Mr Thantos. He pushed open the door so hard that it collapsed to the floor. The door was very rotten. It was only a matter of time for that to fall.
"Seth! It's your time to die!"
Seth ran from the dreary school and outside into the yard.Then he stopped.
Right up ahead of him were the others. They all stood there in a row staring at Seth.
Dan Cartwheel, in his dusty ruffled shirt and tailed jacket, high riding boots and jewels on his fingers. His eyes were more sunken, his lips were black. Tammy Chain looked as if her skin was peeling off her face. Mark Bucket was more decayed than ever before, with red and black sores on his face. The lovely deadly Belinda, her cold green eyes and grey pallor, her golden hair full of grass.
And Paul Forrester, wearing his glasses, cleanly dressed in jumper and chequered trousers but his face gaunt and covered in dark spots.
"Paul?" Seth asked. "Whats' going on?"
Paul shook his head and looked downwards. A sadness crept over Seth.It couldn't be, surely?
"Are you all..." he started.
The door behind him crashed open and Mr Thantos waved the scythe in the air.
"You will DIE Seth!" Mr Thantos yelled like a monster.
Seth couldn't run because the other students formed a tight blocade. He instead ran into the graveyard. There had to be a place to hide, and he found the church door was boarded up. He legged it behind the church and stumbled a few times over the graves, running and weaving himself between the headstones. Then he came to the wall enclosing the back of the graveyard, and he ran alongside it, looking for a way out. He found nothing. He came to the front of the church, and saw to his complete horror, Mr Thantos standing by a tombstone, scythe raised.
"What do you want?" Seth asked, panic stricken.
"Your life. I want all of your souls!"
Just then, the students crept through the graves, and stood staring at Seth. Then, to his disbelief, bodies were crawling up from the ground. Skeletons, decayed bodies, mummified corpses, all of them in a severe state of decay and everyone looking at Seth.
"Oh no!" Seth cried. It was a nightmare beyond nightmares. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't have listened to Paul Forrester and Mr Thantos. He should've stayed home and gone to play no matter how useless he was at Bikeball.
And the moon appeared behind a cloud like a burning skull.
Standing there behind Mr Thantos, stood a harrowing sight. A figure that materialised under the moonlight. Standing about seven feet tall, a black hooded thing. Only utter shadowy darkness showed where the face should be under the hood.
Seth turned very cold and lost his ability to stand. He dropped to the ground. All around him was death and darkness, madness and evil. The smell extremely vile.
To be continued....

Story written by Rayne 

Thursday, 23 November 2017

The Bounty Tax of Death (Part 8)

Story by Rayne, genre is Horror
(...continues from Part 7).

The sky was gloomy. It was so dark that his solar watch didn't spin. Watches, spinning toys and solar powered gadgets was all the rage. His bike used to have solar poweredtoys attached that helped him light up in the dark or indicate to cars where he was planning to turn. It was removed when he started playing Bikeball. Now without his bike, all crushed and useless, dumped on a heap in a tip, he could only walk to his two schools. But he didn't wanna!
He decided to travel with his scateboard to Backwater High and tonight to the class in Obsidion School. He zoomed there, and planned to ask Belinda why she sent him a bunch of flowers. It embarassed him. In front of his family too. That was too much and he didn't know her. Belinda was quiet but she looked grubby and smelled. She wasn't his type.
He arrived on time. Mr Thantos was at his desk, reading. Seth took a seat at the back, again as usual. His favourite seats were always at the back.
He stared at the walls, the table, chairs, ticking clock, the pitch black view of the window. The flickering candles. The cracks on the walls. Cobwebs! The grime and condensation like blood on walls and doors. The dust piled in dunes in corners. Cobwebs that looked ancient crossing over the other seats.
The place looked more terrible than before. Where had all the dust and grime come from?
"Sir?" Seth asked. An hour passed. Mr Thantos just read, and no one else had turned up yet.
He cleared his throat and asked again and louder. "Sir!"
Mr Thantos slowly looked up.
"Seth?" he asked.
"Where is everyone?"
"They're not here today. It's just you and me."
Seth sighed. "I should go," he said.
"Very well, but have you learned anything yet from my class?" Mr Thantos asked.
Mr Thantos stood up and lifted his cane. He looked at Seth with his cold pale grey eyes and he seemed terribly old, far older than he used to appear. Perhaps it was the effect of the candles.
"Seth, do you know why you're here?"
These guessing games were growing very boring. They were dumb questions.
Then, the cane in Mr Thanton's grasp altered. It had to be a device. It now had a severely sharp metal blade at the top, and resembled a giant knife. Seth lifted his skateboard and slowly moved away from his desk, looking at the door to escape.
"I don't plan to use this against you, dear boy!" Mr Thantos said. "It's a scythe. It's what I use in my work. Farmers used to work with one of these to cut the grass."
Seth wanted to run.Mr Thantos and his giant scythe was too close to the exit.
"Do you know who I am, Seth?"
"A lunatic?"
"No," Mr Thantos said. "I am the Grim Reaper".
To be continued...

Story written by Rayne Belladonna

Wednesday, 22 November 2017

The Bounty Tax of Death (Part 7)

Story by Rayne, genre is Horror
(...continues from Part 6).

In Backwater High, Seth found Paul Forrester in the school library. It was during lunch time and after having a burger in the canteen, Seth felt like going to visit the library and find out what he can about the old graveyard near the dump Obsidion school place. As he was looking at the books on Backwater History shelf, Paul made his appearance known.
"Hi, what are you doing here?" Seth asked.
"Just coming here to study for maths," Paul said. "and how come you're in the library?"
"Is it obvious that I don't read books?" he laughed.
There was nothing much in the school library that would tell him about Obsidion School and the neighbouring churchyard. It was Paul who spoke to him that made Seth want to return to Mr Thantons' class again for a third try. He contemplated dropping out of it.
"Next we finish class with Mr Thanton, I'll show you the village behind the old church," Paul suggested. It was news to Seth. A village?
It was on Friday evening that Seth struggled through a boring session, listening to Mr Thantos. And trying not to breath the smells pouring off Mark Bucket. Indeed, Belinda, Tammy and Dan stunk also today. Seth volunteered to open a window but it was jammed. He ended up burying his nose in his sleeve. When he looked at Mark Bucket, he saw that Mark's nose was ink black, like the way his fingertips were also black. There was something not right. Was Mark diseased?
Belinda, if that was the same Belinda whose name was on the headstone, had very sunken eyes and her pallor was more green. She had red sores about her lips today, and on her hands and near her ears. Was this a virus? Was it contagious?
He looked at emo girl Tammy, whose snow white goth skin was pockmarked with grey spots and boils. Her nails looked bloodied. Her nose was bright red, and cracked. He felt cold.
Then he looked at Dan, whose often dandy fashions didn't stop him looking greasy and pale today, with purple lips and bloodshot eyes. He looked closely when he saw a movement in Dan's hair. It was a worm. Seth got up in panic and fled from the room.
He ran outside the building and coughed. Paul followed him out.
"Are you alright, Seth?" Paul asked.
"We've gotta go! The kids are ill and they stink as..."
"Mr Thanton told me to come after you, we can just leave class for now."
Paul and Seth went into the old graveyard and Seth showed him the old headstone.
"That can't be the same Belinda," Paul said. They moved along, and came to a ten foot wall. No gate or passage led through it.
"That's odd," Paul said. "I'm sure there was a door leading into the village behind that wall."
"It doesn't matter," Seth told him. "We'll check for a way to the village by using Google maps."
 "No, I'm certain there was a door, I know there was."
They left the vacinity of Obsidion School, and by the time Seth reached home, Paul had taken another route to his place. He had had enough of Obsidion School. But telling his parents he was quitting the extra class would make an arguement not worth it.
Indoors, a bunch of white flowers was displayed in a vase on the living room coffee table. His mother was never really a flower person. Did dad give it to her as a present?
"Whats the flowers for?" Seth asked his mother who was cooking a pie.
"It was delivered this afternoon when you were out," she replied. "It's not for me, Seth. It's for you."
"Eh?" Since when did boys get flowers?
He looked at them and felt queasy. This was one of his bike frinds playing a joke, as they'd done before, making him believe a girl fancied him by leaving silly cards and notes.
"Well then chuck those flowers in the bin!" Seth said.
"Oh they're pretty, you don't want to throw away your romantic gift."
"It aint a bloody romantic gift! The lads are up to their old tricks again."
"No, Seth," she told him. "A girl named Belinda came over tonight and said these are for you."
Seth stared at his mother and couldn't believe it.
To be continued...

Tuesday, 21 November 2017

The Bounty Tax of Death (Part 6)

Click to view larger picture

Story created by me, continues. Story genre - Horror

...Continues from "The Bounty Tax of Death" Part 5... The second day of the class, one week later.
Seth found it boring again, and couldn't understand the significanc of it. He wondered whyMr Thantos asked him there and most of all, should he discontinue going anymore. He learned just about nothing. It was as boring as watching paint dry. As dreary as listening to his dad and he old friends discussing politics.
He got to know the other students better, although oddballs as Mr Thantos was.
Belinda Stadell was always wearing old fashioned dresses and had some leaves in her hair. He felt drawn to her, because of those green eyes and her intense flower smell that was almost sickly.
Paul Forrester was the geek of the class, in wide rimmed specs and always in those golfer style clothes. He also attended Backwater High school but in the brainier class.
Dan Cartwheel was a sombre and moody character dressed in black with these pretentious ruffles and laces. He wore riding boots and sometimes arrived at school looking like a goth.
Tammy Chain was the other girl in class. She was a definate emo who did her make-up so thick, had studs along her eyebrows and lips and nose. She had black painted nails and a rose tattoo on her right forearm. She wore black clothes, and she stank of toilets and hospitals.
Now there was Mark Bucket. He was the dirtiest and foulest smelling kid of the class. He was the most smelliest peson who Seth had ever encountered. He had to hold his nose when he was near Mark. The poor scruff had very long hair all tangled in dreadlocks and grass, mud and leaves, just like Belinda. Except Belinda wasn't as filthy or smelly. Mark wore these shapeless huge shirts and baggy clothes with pointed leather shoes. Mark spoke as if he had a frog in his throat. Another odd feature of Mark was the boy's black fingers, as if he'd dipped them in paint and never washed it off.
Seth was about to leave at the end of class, when Mr Thantos called him.
"Next week, you'll learn what I'm trying to help you with," the teacher spoke.
Seth was dimissed. He went outside and watched Belinda walking away through the old graveyard. He could kill ten minutes just out of curiosity and follow her.
He walked through the gravestones, and saw Belinda stop. He waited, and then he blinked. Belinda was gone, He rushed over and came to where she had been standing. A gravestone, not so clearly marked in old faded writing:
(...to be continued)

This story is by Rayne.
Image was designed by Rayne using Lunapic.