Contest [Halloween Special] The Halloween Horror Story

[Flexoo 6,980]

 

 

Greetings tankers!

 

With the Halloween celebrations, sales and discounts in full swing, the Newspaper Team decided to have a special contest for all to participate in as a side-mission while playing the game. Let's begin!

___________________________________________________________________________________________

 

As the name of the contest suggests, your task is to make a scary, spooky, horror story that will take place on Halloween. Be original and write something that will send shivers down our spines.

 

The word limit for the contest is 3 000 words. It can be less, but it should not exceed this word limit. Please do not post any existing material, nor do plagiarize the content (do not use someone else's work as yours). Doing so will result in permanent disqualification. Your entries should be posted only in this topic. Tankers who do not have the necessary rank to post on Forum can send their entries to me inside the Forum PM (personal message).

 

And now to the best part which is the prizes:

 

1st place: 70 000 crystals + 5 Gold Box Supplies

2nd place: 50 000 crystals + 3 Gold Box Supplies

3rd place: 40 000 crystals + 2 Gold Box Supplies

 

other worthy entries might receive the consolation prize of 10 000 crystals.

 

So hurry and give it your best, the contest is running till the 12th of November. Good luck!

 

[Person_Random 4,991]

Well, I got an idea, I'll have to write fast!!!

[Dayfly 22]

Good luck to everyone.

Here's my entry  :blush:

 

The Little Forest

 

Last night's rain has given the morning a wonderful scent and a walk into the woods seems like the best idea yet. My brother, Steve, agrees and soon we're leaving the house. Of course, we don't forget to pick up Nessie from next door. She's excited as always and pulls at her leash. Nessie's a big fluffy Labrador, dumb as a barrel of boulders. Nessie's owner is shopping for candy, the trick-or-treaters will come soon with their hands out. The decorations are up in the street, in a few hours they'll brighten up the night.

 

The path is behind Nessie's house and we can see a long way into the trees. We are going this way? This is the way? Is this the way? Nessie is in charge of navigation. We're in deep now and nothing looks familiar. Steve looks unworried and I'm not too fussed either. Almost at the same time we notice Nessie's missing. She can't be far, it was only a minute since we saw her jumping through the brush.

 

There's a house up ahead, we must be lost 'cos I've never seen this place before.

 

We're close enough to see inside. No dog in sight. No people we can see. The door's open.

 

Inside, we go inside.

 

That smell, it's like an old cellar smell. It's not unpleasant but it's making my nose itch. We're going upstairs? We're going up the stairs. Nessie could've trapped herself in a room. Steve is probably thinking about sleep, he's a cat person.

 

All the doors are open. All but one. The end door is closed. I open it and step into the room.

 

It's dark in here, darker than you'd expect. My eyes take time to adapt before I can make out the shapes. Nessie? No, not Nessie. Maybe some clothes? Yes, perhaps but one thing odd. They're moving.

 

Oh no, no that's not... I'm not seeing... I'm moving to the door. It's stuck, how did it get stuck? Where's Steve? On the other side of the door. I bang, I shout, I glance over my shoulder. The clothes have a shape, almost human but deformed and shrunken. In it's hand I can see metal. The shape like an axe head. I shout for Steve, the figure is close now, a pressure like static is slowing my movements. My breathing is getting difficult. Is it speaking? It is breathing? There's almost no sound from the spectre, only a scraping, rasping hollow sound. It's like claws on rough timber.

 

The door flies open and a hand reaches in to grab me. Temporarily blinded I step forward towards my brother, I see his face. He's as white as a sheet and eyes are wide open in terror. His lips move, I don't hear a sound but the shape is RUN. I can't look behind, we scramble and fall down the stairs and outside.

 

In the dim sunlight we turn to view our pursuer but there's nothing. Nothing but a ruin, the house is now only a shell. Confused, bewildered, agitated. Then we see some movement, a glimpse of a tail. Nessie's back. She's got something in her mouth and I bend down to take a closer look. Something wooden and old, shaped like the handle of an axe. It's time to head back.

[lightningmode_On 26]

Someone is watching !

 

it is 3:15am and my work hasn't completed yet a computer screen is harmful for our eyes i know but i cant do anything right now work is work if i don't finish it on time my boss is gonna fire me and i will be jobless. it is so boring to keep typing on the keyboard constantly i can't even sleep on time!

 

(phone rings... picks it up.)

 

Me:hello?

phone: hey Jacob, Brodie here, i don't feel so good here something weird is going on here so can you please come?

Me: come on man it's just 3:20am. are you joking with me?

phone: if you are a good friend of mine please come. if it wasn't something this serious i would have never disturbed you this late.please!

Me: OK on my way!

 

What is the problem of this guy?always emotionally blackmails me for help. after all he is my best friend gotta go.

 

(it was chilling cold outside)

(rides the bike to his house)

(he saw that at his house lights were off)

 

if he is scared why is he not turning on his lights? lets check out.

 

(opens the gate to his house and moves towards the door)

(opens the door)

(he sees his friends Brodie's Dead body covered with a lot of blood and kitchen knife lying aside.)

 

..................

..................

 

(speechless, he can't spit out any words from his mouth.)

(now he is scared, he can hear his heartbeats, dhup dhup dhup dhup!)

(his phone rings...... picks it up)

 

phone: Hey Jacob! where the hell are you? please come fast arent you my friend?

 

(he is surprised to hear his voice.)

(don't know what to do?)

(suddenly! head of the dead Brodie rises and and face turns towards him.)

 

Brodie: you are not my best friend Jacob!

 

(suddenly someone stabs Jacob with a knife from behind)

(slowly looks behind, there is no one. dies!)

(horror music.....)

(camera moves towards the moon such that few branches comes between the view of moon like in horror movies!)

(The End!)

[Aigaion 636]

(in car, October 31st)

 

WHERE DID THAT SPIDER GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????

 

(confused screaming)

Edited November 5, 2018 by Aigaion

[LyT 222]

OMG

Edited November 4, 2018 by S.M.S.M

[LyT 222]

Spooky and Creepy  :huh:

Edited November 8, 2018 by S.M.S.M

[SSG 296]

One night, a young boy woke up to the sound of footsteps outside his bedroom door. Knowing he would get in trouble if his parents knew he wasn’t sleeping, the boy just barely opened his eyes to see who was outside his door. With shock, the boy realized that a man had come into the house and had murdered his parents.

 

 

The sound that had woken him up was the intruder, dragging his parents’ bodies past the boy’s bedroom. The man looked over and saw that the young boy was asleep in his bed. Rather than flee the scene, the intruder dragged the boy’s parents into the boy’s room and propped their corpses against a chair in the corner of his room.

 

 

The boy kept pretending he was asleep as the murderer used his parents’ blood to write a message on the wall. After the message was finished, the intruder got on his hands and knees and crawled under the boy’s bed. Scared out of his mind, the boy remained still under his blankets, trying to peer through the darkness to read the message.

 

 

After an hour or so, the sky outside began to lighten, and the boy could finally read what the murderer had written on the wall.

 

 

“I know you’re awake.”

[Pyre 3,485]

 

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

 

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

 

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”

 

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

 

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

            Merely this and nothing more.

 

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

 

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”

 

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

 

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

 

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

 

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

 

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

 

 

I might actually write one later...

Edited November 4, 2018 by Pyre

[JAGMAN2468 104]

Beatrice

 

It was a cold October night when it happened. October 31st to be exact. I was sitting alone in my easy chair sipping some hot cocoa when I heard the scream. “Beatrice?” I yelped. No, it couldn’t have been her. She had been dead for the past fifteen years.

 

A stab of fear struck my heart, and I slowly got up and crept towards the sound. When I reached the kitchen, I quickly lit a candle and waited there listening intently. Nothing. It must have been my imagination. I walked back to the sitting room and looked out of one of the gloomy windows. A maelstrom of a rainstorm outside howled angrily. I was about to get back to my chair when something peculiar caught my eye. A strange figure stood in the distance. It wore a white dress and seemingly was, floating? I looked up at it’s face and a scream of horror lept from my throat. She had no head. The icy claw of fear gripped my soul. My hands started shaking so violently I had to grip the window sill to stay still.

 

The figure raised her hand, and pointed. Straight at me.

 

“NO! NO! NO!!!” I shrieked. I fell to the floor and placed my head in my hands. I had killed her. Beatrice, my sweet Beatrice. I wept there for about a minute until suddenly I felt a cold hand grip my shoulder. My muscles froze in place, I lifted my head and there she was. My Beatrice. “No… Please, have mercy on me” I whispered.

 

She took her finger and wrote a message on the wall. These words shone in bright red “Just like you had mercy on me”.

 

I took her ghostly hand and weeped. “I’m sorry my beloved. I-I was furious, I couldn’t contain myself”.

 

She jerked her hand away and placed it on my head. The memories came flying back. I remembered every detail now. I had been extremely drunk that night and had just come home from a party. As soon as I had entered the door I found Beatrice there, in the sitting room with another man. I was infuriated. How could she betray me like this, I never even considered the thought that she might have not have been having an affair with him. I grabbed my axe from the wall and charged over. Despite the man’s shocked looks and confused muttering, I promptly cut his chest open. Beatrice screamed at me, and ran over hitting my my back. Blind with my anger, I swung around, and by doing so, beheaded her. After realizing the horror I’d just done, I took the bodies and buried them in my backyard. I told everyone I knew personally that Beatrice had died from a terrible disease, but I knew the real truth.

 

She took her hand away. And I looked up somberly at her headless neck. I stood up and took her hands. “Beatrice, my love. I know what I did can’t be undone. But I beg you” I sobbed out “Please, forgive me”. We stood there for a couple moments, holding each-others hands.

 

Finally she drew her hands away and wrote a new message on the wall. “I forgive you, my love”.

 

My heart filled with unfathomable gratitude. I turned to hug her, but she was no longer there. I turned back around and neither was the red text on the wall. Dizzy with shock I walked back to my chair and sat down. The embers still burned in the fireplace, and my coca was now cold. Though now a strange peacefulness, an emotion I hadn’t felt for fifteen long years, lingered within my heart.

 

 

Hope you enjoyed my story :). (Edit was to change the font to something more readable)

 

Edited November 4, 2018 by JAGMAN2468

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

Red

Partying at my uncle’s on the occasion of Diwali has always been one of the things I can’t even think about not doing even for a single year. It has always been great fun (and yeah, it's a blast, pun lovers).
The journey back from my uncle’s village is rather tiresome, with no means of transport available, but a fit person like me wouldn’t mind it.

One such year I was returning home along the deserted “path”, if it could be called one. The sun was squashed against the horizon, which reminded me of the tomato prank Uncle played on Aunt. Spotting a hotel, I headed for my night’s stay.

“All rooms are occupied, sir.” Said the manager.
“All?!”, I was surprised, “there usually aren’t much visitors to these parts!”
“This season there are lots of them-“
My eyes suddenly fell on the lone key hanging among the hooks on wall. “There’s probably one room left.” I said, smiling, and pointed at it.
“But sir! That room beside the store is haunted-“
“Haunted?" I asked, slipping a ₹1000 note into his hand. “Take me there now, will you?”

Haunted, indeed! Chaps these days… using such cheap means to get more money.

***

A sound woke me up.
Not a sound, to be specific. A melody. Someone playing a violin beautifully, although in the middle of the night. The music was charming. Whoever he or she was, must be experienced. It lasted around 15 minutes, and stopped rather abruptly. Curious as I was, I got up and put my ear on the door. No sound. I peered through the keyhole. The room was completely red, as if spray-painted, with a shelf and a couple pieces of furniture, all bright red. I could see no one there.

Still wondering about the strange preferences and fashion of artists, I laid down on my bed and immediately fell asleep.

***

The morning began with the rooster’s cry. I packed my belongings and walked up the stairs to check out. As I handed the keys to the manager, I was reminded of the night’s incident.

“Does anyone live in the store room?”
I have never seen such a response to such a simple question. He turned pale, and his jaw dropped open.
“Y-You didn’t go to the s-store, did you?” He stuttered.
“Why?” I asked, grinning. “In the room there’s a ghost of a violin player, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yes… and that too with blood red eyes.” Edited November 8, 2018 by P.4.R.K.O.U.R

[AndriusLT 2]

The Bloody one

 

One morning i woke up to a sound of shuffling around my bed. I wanted to see who was it so i immediatly opened my eyes, but saw nothing, it was just my empty room. I had a sister who was older than me and went to college. I decided to ask her if she was in my room earlier, but i didnt find her anywhere. It was strange because i usually went to school earlier than her. I was confused, but i ignored it and thought that she went earlier with her friends. The day passed by as ussual without incident. I got in my bed around 10 p.m. and closed my eyes. I was really tired because i had a gym teacher who always pushed us to our complete limit. I woke up again, but this time it was still dark, i look at my phone and its just 10 minutes past the time i got in my bed.

- Hmm, - i thought. And then suddenly i hear my closet door slowly open. I was so freaked out at this point, that i wanted to scream and run to my sisters room. But i just couldn't it felt like i was paralyzed because i was too scared. And then i see 2 red, like blood eyes. I was so scared that i passed out. I woke up late to school. My sister this morning wasn't home either, but i thought she was already at college since i woke up late. My clothes were in the closet. I really didnt want to check it. But i did. I found nothing, but at the corner of my closet i saw a few blood drops. I thought someone comes into my closet while im away and its some unharmful homeless guy. But i havent heard or seen my sister for 2 days. I became really concerned now. And my parents were away for 3 days on holiday, i forgot to mention. I went to school and it went fine. Again very scared i get into my bed and try to fall asleep. However i didnt wake up in the night, and i didnt hear anything. I checked my closet, and found it with this time a bigger pile of blood. Then i saw it.... I looked up and the blood was from my closet roof... From the attic My parents got back, and asked if i was alright and was my sister alright too. Then i explained everything to them with all details that i knew. They're faces looked horrified. Eventually my dad went to the attic, and i followed behind. There was my sister dead and bloody body. I screamed. It was a bad idea since, the so called "unharmful hommeles guy" was actually still up there. In fact it was a guy but he was really disgusting, dressed in all black, holding a butcher knife. He came at my dad but we were out of the attic faster than he could catch us. My dad held the attic door shut, while my mom called the police. Police came and took him away. He gave me the most disgusting smile ever. And screamed 

- Im gonna find you soon! - I almost threw up from the fear of my and my parents lives. I still miss my sister to this day. It traumatized me kinda bad. We've since moved out to another state and started a new life.

Edited November 5, 2018 by AndriusLT

[Person_Random 4,991]

well then, I'll finish soon.

[the_only_pro_995 1]

Lost In China.

 

So when I was barely twenty years old I was traveling with a small group of people through China, and we were spending about two months in Qinghai province, which used to be part of Tibet. Our destinations was a specific town to teach English, but we'd been stopping often in towns and small cities along the way. One day we arrived in a rural town, very small, nothing unusual. We spent only a couple of days there, shopping for food at the markets and walking around to see the sights, although there weren't many. This was in the dead of winter, in February, and all the grass on the hills and plains around the town was dead and brown. The overall feeling was that of the normal kind of bleakness that any rural place has in the winter.

At this time in my life things were going amazingly, extraordinarily well for me, and I say that because my teenagehood had been rather darkly overcast. But the overwhelming good luck of being able to travel and these close friends I'd made in the last year had more than changed my feelings and attitude towards life — it was like I was a whole new person. I was ecstatic to be in Tibet, went to sleep with a smile on my face every night.

On our second day staying in this small town I woke up feeling a little odd. Not bad, just odd, like my normal thoughts and feelings had been turned down low, like on a dial. We all decided to go for a walk on the hills right behind the town, where there was a small summit with a pile of rocks and some prayer flags (to be honest there were little "altars" like these on every other hill, but it gave us something to do).

As we hiked up the hills behind the town I started feeling stranger and stranger. I wasn't scared, and I didn't feel angry or any strong emotion. In fact, it was like emotion was trickling out of me somehow, and I was getting blanker and blanker, emptier and emptier. My mind started feeling a little hazy and more and more I felt like I simply didn't care about anything. A small and rapidly dwindling part of myself started to panic, knew that something bad was happening, but it was like my own inner voice was slowly getting quieter and quieter.

I remember we reached the little summit and I simply sank to the ground next to the pile of rocks. Without meaning to, I started tuning out the voices around me and fixed all my attention on the little pebbles in the dirt. I began tapping one against the other, repeatedly. Do you know the kind of horror that is opposite of feeling scared or feeling anything at all? The kind of vacuous hideousness of a fly buzzing against a closed window for hours on end in an empty room? That's what was filling my mind. It was demonic in its meaninglessness.

I touched my face and felt that I was grinning at nothing. Through all the emptiness a thought floated to the forefront of my mind: You should just die.

At first it sounded totally reasonable, but something in me fought it and I was momentarily troubled. Right then, my group started to walk down from the hill, and I followed. The further we walked, the more normal I felt, until we left the town that afternoon and I was totally freaked out. When another girl, Hanna, mentioned in an odd off-hand way that she had felt very strange and depressed while staying there, I told her that I'd felt the same.

When the group leader mentioned that a local had told him that the town had been plagued with a rash of young women under 25 committing suicide, Hanna and I went white.

Edited November 5, 2018 by the_only_pro_995

[r_NOO1314 0]

@The Halloween Horror story

 

One day, when I was 14, I had a friend from out of town come stay with me for a week. I hadn't told her anything whatsoever about the house because I didn't think she would come if I did. Right after she got there we were sitting in my room and she left to go to the bathroom. About a minute later she walked back in with a puzzled look on her face and said "So, there's a little girl in your bathroom". "Um, I, yeah she hangs out in there. Blond hair?" "Curls? Pink dress? Yeah. You know that's not really a little girl, don't you?" I almost threw up. I was so relieved and terrified and excited and ready to run out of the house screaming. She wouldn't use my bathroom the rest of the week and I started using it as little as possible without annoying my parents (who did not want to believe).

[Lose 881]

my story:

 

Jack woke up from his nightmare, dazed, tired and scared. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. Was it really only 10 PM?, he thought. Jack shrugged it off and got out of bed, not tired anymore. As he walked out of his room, he realized everybody was asleep. Which was strange. He stopped, looking for the familiar sound of his brothers Fortnite Youtube videos. Nothing. He jumped as he heard a creak. It was just the air conditioning, phew. He went downstairs to get a drink. He went to the fridge, and pressed on the lever, filling his cup. Suddenly the water stopped pouring, and the fridge started making a strange, low humming noise. Terrified, he thought: I'm probably still dreaming. Right after he finished the thought, he saw a flash and heard a loud thunk. He turned to see a knife embedded in the wall, inches from his neck would have been. He turned back around, just to see a man with a knife in both hands standing across the hall. He threw 1 of the knives, which Jack knew would not miss. At least it's a dream, Jack thought. It was too late before he found out it wasn't actually a dream.

Edited November 8, 2018 by Lose

[thethiefofvictory 339]

He stood before the exquisitely decorated coffins, of kings and queens and princes of royal blood, from the long-decayed bones of the Monarch to the fresh scent of recent death, and the empty boxes for the newly crowned king and queen.

 

One day, they would store his remains.

 

He stared at the symbols engraved upon the coffin of his late father, but the sight elicited no tears, only curiosity and the hatred veiled within.

 

It was the eve of November. The Remembrance. Or, for him, the perfect excuse to plunder the crypt of all the treasure it held within its walls, or which built it and the coffin. And of course, myths about this fabled place of Royals alone ranged from containing treasures hidden under secret locks, to hiding secrets of transcendence beyond humanity with forbidden, cursed and indescribably painful rituals.

 

A glint of coin at the far end of the complex caught his eye. Intrigued and driven by lust, he decided to investigate, for he could not resist the temptation of wealth.

 

***

 

What's that… who are you?!

 

Over there, on the wall beside the Grave of the Ancients, is a painting of a human etching itself on the stone.

 

You’re supposed to be dead. The poison does not spare anyone. The poison I fed you… always kills.

 

“Look back, son, look at those candles on my coffin. You see, I don’t like that… I don’t like hypocrisy.”

The painting speaks. Don’t speak. No, don’t. Just leave. Vanish. Return to the world of the dead. You are no longer meant for this world, father. LEAVE!

 

“Mere words… cannot dispel the curse you have cast upon yourself.”

 

Curse… no, what curse?

 

“Well… I’m not going to waste my visit to your mind. Why don’t we make it meaningful? Look. The myths are true. The treasure… exists. And today it will be yours. Just as you want.”

 

The painting’s nonchalant expression turns to a twisted, demonic grin. No. I don’t want treasure… no, no. Let me… go? I have no wish to die here, or suffer the pain described in the myths. Leave, and let me go.

 

I turn, and am met with a… being. Transparent, but visible. A scythe… no. I find myself surrounded in all directions but one… the one leading to a hole, and an abyss.

 

I walk to the hole, and jump. A second later, I land upon the gold plated stone, and find myself in a chamber with doors… open doors, all sorts of treasure behind them. Enough… to last millennia.
 

Except one door.

 

There’s a scythe in that one.

 

The beings appear and vanish, then back. And the painting… at the trapdoor above, with the same twisted grin.

 

The trapdoor shuts and locks itself, and it is now that I notice my hands on it, pulling at a handle on it. I’ve closed the door to exit.

 

Do I believe in the myths, or the presence of an exit?

 

Neither.

 

Look, thief. You have your treasure. Feast on it… you’ll never need to leave this place.

 

The ghosts disappear, and I feel my eyelids open. I wake in a bedroom…

 

In my dreams. The truth, though, is that the ghosts and painting were a creation of my mind. My… insane mind, driven to madness by this place and the candle ritual.

 

And perhaps the poison I fed my father, to take his throne.

 

I can see the ghosts laughing, and I grab the scythe. This ends… now.

 

Please don't actually consider it for the contest... I wrote it for fun. Look... the grin says enough, no? 

[Miracle_Quip 1]

it was a dark and stormy night...

 

not really, but that night I wish it had been. after being in my head for so long I really needed it.

 

I think the proper place to start this story is when I was fourteen, just starting high school, hopeful and naive. 

 

but first, a preface: my mom is a heroin addict and my dad is an alcoholic, both take their frustration out on me, and thunderstorms seemed to be my only refuge. the roaring thunder and pounding rain dampened the sounds of their panicked and angry screams. 

 

so, back to freshman year. i'd been struggling with coping for what felt like centuries at this point. trying to find any way to clear my head. and I thought getting into a relationship might help that. I was wrong. 

 

I ended up with them in November of freshman year after word got around that we liked each other and after I was finally brave enough to ask them out. but it was a struggle, we stayed together as long as we could, but it was a struggle for both of us. so we ended things in january, after two draining months. 

 

I wish I could say that was the end of it, but rumors went flying, and I was constantly shamed from classmates and even teachers for cheating and being abusive

 

I didnt want to be like my parents. 

 

So I went cold, I barely showed my face at school, didnt talk to anyone, and I was gone.

 

Until one day. I finally made a friend. I suppose the proper thing to say is that they took pity on me, but someone finally bothered to try to see through the rumors and get to know me. even though it was their choice I didn’t want to bother them, I still kept my head down, avoiding everyone out of habit.

 

And my inner demons came alive.

 

Now I had someone that cared about me, I had someone to disappoint. 

 

I had to say goodbye.

 

my parents were never coherent anyway, so I never bothered to say anything to them. I said goodbye to my few friends I had because of my significant other, and finally I said goodbye to them, too. But they never heard any of it, I left it on my phone, which no one knew the password to except me. 

 

If no one bothered to ask, I would have seemed like just a quiet kid, not someone at risk of suicide. No one knew and I kept it that way. So on the night of October 26th I made my decision.

 

It was the clearest, stillest, most silent night you’ve ever seen, all I could hear was my parents bickering and hitting each other, accompanied by the occasional scream of bloody murder as weapons were drawn.  Whatever. 

 

So there I stood, a bottle of poisonous pills in hand ready to end it all. 

 

ending one (sad ending)

despite the calm weather, in the house, there was never silence. not in my head and not downstairs. i swallowed the entire bottle of pills, and it felt like i was swallowing lava, each one burning more. i cried and cried until i blacked out. goodbye, cruel world.

 

ending two (happier ending) 

i kept crying, and the tears wouldnt stop. i sobbed and sobbed, and i almost downed the entire bottle, but at the last possible second, my father came in. not in a fit of rage, he wasnt drunk for once in his life. he told me he'd heard me and he was concerned. he held me close for half an hour, saying nothing but 'im sorry". i forgave him, it was obvious he cared, and he proved he loved me for the first time in my entire life.

[Maharaja 204]

Must it be TAnki realted or general??

[Flexoo 6,980]

Must it be TAnki realted or general??

Hi. Nope, it does not have to be Tanki related.

[Best_of_thunder_2015 1,354]

Flexoo,

 

Your contests are mostly based on writing novels and stories. The tanki scavenger hunt was really exciting and good for tankers exploring the world other than sitting and hosting a contest more than 4-5 months of story writing.

[Flexoo 6,980]

Flexoo,

 

Your contests are mostly based on writing novels and stories. The tanki scavenger hunt was really exciting and good for tankers exploring the world other than sitting and hosting a contest more than 4-5 months of story writing.

I am not quite sure what your point was here. If you are asking why we hold writing contests, then the simple answer is that we are a section and team that is based around the writing, so naturally we want to have these types of contests to promote writing and possibly motivate people to write, get better at it so one day we might see them joining our ranks.

 

If you are hinting that contests like scavenger hunt are good and you like it, then all I can say is that they very likely will return in the future.

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

 

"Some of your hurts you have cured, and the sharpest you still have survived.

But what torments of grief you endured from evils that never arrived!"

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

The house looked promising enough to me: a prospective child who had just begun his quest for candy. My mouth watered as I imagined the empty bucket in my hand becoming heavier and heavier.

 

In front of me was Number 19, Grimmauld Place. I could've sworn that just yesterday, the street only went up to 17, but there it was. The house was decorated quite similarly to the other houses on the street, covered in the standard black cloths, trick-or-treat signs, plastic bats and whatnot.

 

However, the resemblance only went as far as the visuals; there was a definite... almost aura... of foreboding. To little me, though, that only made the house all the more appealing. Ignoring my gut feeling that something wasn't quite right, I made my way to the door through a cluster of dry, overgrown bushes. 

 

I raised my hand to ring the doorbell, but an ever-growing sense of apprehension froze my arm halfway through the motion. 

 

Just ring the doorbell.

 

It's just a few pieces of candy, skip the house.

 

Why waste a perfectly good chance?

 

Because... I'm scared. 

 

Turmoil. My pulse was rushing, my head was reeling, my heart was racing. What was this feeling? Was I actually scared? Unconsciously, I took a few steps back. Shaking my head, I forced myself forward and rang the doorbell.

 

...

 

No sound.

 

Whew. Well, we can leave now. Let's go.

 

Ring it again.

 

No, just leave. LET'S GO ALREADY.

 

RiNg THe dAnG DoOrBeLl!

 

I lifted my trembling hand yet again, but even as my hand moved to press the button, the door creaked open slowly to reveal a man wearing a blue polo and khakis. He looked at the address number beside him, frowned, then straightened out the number "6", muttering, "I'll have to fix that sooner or later..."

 

Then, looking me in the eye, he said, "Can I help you?"

 

My voice shaking, I attempted to yell, "TRICK OR TREAT!!!" but all that came out was a confused, "trick or treat?"

 

The man's eyes shone mirthfully.

 

"Halloween is tomorrow."

Edited November 8, 2018 by C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R

[Railgun.M2 0]

Murder:

 

This girl.Her mum always used to go to this club(RED RUM) at night and left her to play Tanki Online .She once had enough because she earned less crystals in battle.She had got bored of it.She wanted to go with her Mother.

 

Her mother told her she was going out to that club(RED RUM) again and had a stressed look on her face.

She had left the door open and the girl secretly followed her...

 

She had ran back home as fast as she could when they saw what the people had done to her.It was called Red Rum for a reason. They had done Red Rum the other way round... (red=der)(rum=mur)MUR-DER

[dudethecool123 0]

Eyeless Horror

 

One night when I was 10, I was asleep in bed and was woken up by my bedroom door opening then someone sitting on my bed. I felt the graze on my leg and the bed sink as they sat. Thinking it was my mom having something to tell me, I open my eyes only to see a pale, eyeless boy who seemed to be my age sitting at the foot of my bed with his legs crossed “staring” at me or facing my direction since he had no eyes. 

He then reached his hand toward me and he was holding what looked like a little black box. I was freaked out, but as I reached to grab it, he hesitantly pulled back. I reached out further for it and said, “give it”. As I did so, I blinked, and by the time I reopened my eyes, he was gone, the spot of the bed where was sitting lifted back into place but the imprint of someone sitting there was still present. 

I told my mom in the morning and she was slightly freaked but assured me I was just dreaming. 

Fast forward 5 years, I had my girlfriend over to do homework. After homework she took a nap while she waited for her parents to pick her up. When they arrived, I tried waking her to let her know. I nudged her, and she opened her eyes so sudden already looking in the direction of the corner of the room where the wall meets the ceiling, lifting her finger and pointed. And as fast as she woke, she fell asleep again. I attempted to wake her again. She came to full consciousness, and I asked her what the hell that was about and explained what she just did. She said, “oh I thought I was dreaming, but up on the wall I saw a little boy with no eyes just there in a ‘Spider-man’ pose staring at me” That’s when I freaked out and told her the story, for the first time, of when I saw what I guessed was the same kid. 

Fast forward another 5 years, still with the same girlfriend, and by this time we had a 2-year-old daughter. We were living in my old bedroom at my parents' house. My daughter would wake up at the same time every night and start talking. For a while we thought it was a normal baby thing, until I noticed it was almost the same conversation every night. I playfully asked her one night who she was talking to every night. She responded, “a little boy, he talks to me, he’s nice. He’s lost and looking for his mommy.” 

I told my mom what happened the next morning and before I got to tell her what I thought, she said “I remember when that happened to you, then your girlfriend, I have no idea what that is” By then, neither my girlfriend or I have seen the “little boy” after our first encounter, but my daughter continued her nightly conversations until we got our own place later that year.

Sorry for the whiteness. I had to put this on a word document so I can edit. (It took me 2 days to make this)