Scratch

Waffle27 wrote:

madbunnygal wrote:

destructo-serpent wrote:

i found a spare keyboard and mouse, so i attacked them to mah laptop. now i can work faster 

attacked or attached?

I think it was attached, but he claims he attacked them. I dunno dserp, you dont seem like the type to attack innocent little mice and keyboards...

they aren't innocent. the keyboard is full of dust, and the mouse isn't wireless D:

i see mah idea caught on. right? ?_?

Last edited by destructo-serpent (2013-04-13 18:53:58)

Waffle27 wrote:

Do you like the idea Madbunny? ?_? (hehe  )

yep!

John was relaxing at his apartment, drinking coffee and watching soccer on his TV. He had made it out of Ryansberg only by wandering aimlessly. Once out, he had turned the tape into his employer and gone home. He wanted nothing more to do with Ryansberg Swamp. Now he planned to relax for an hour until his boss called him with something else to journalize. ring-ring-ring  ”Charles Mockery. Great, John thought, there was his boss calling now. He picked up the phone.*hello? John?**what is it now?**we saw something on the tape. Come over here ASAP.**Fine. See you in a minute.* click he set the telephone down and walked towards the door.

§  §  §

“So, what is it you wanted??” John asked as he walked into his boss’s office. Charles went straight to the point. ”We found something on the tape that is of some interest. Come see this.” Charles took a tape from his pocket and inserted it into a drive connected to a TV. The screen flickered, then showed John walking through the swamp. Then John walked around a corner in the weeds, and the screen fell to the marsh below. There was a sickening sucking sound, then something long, ghostly white, and transparent flashed across the screen. Charles paused and rewinded. The screen stopped to show it. It was a TONGUE.

§  §  §

“No way. I am absolutely NOT going into Ryansberg swamp again. Send me into a hurricane or something, but I am not going into Ryansberg.” “I believe you already said that. Multiple times. But my reply hasn’t chaged: it’s this, or your job.” Charles said.  “Besides, you won’t be unprotected. You have a firearms license, so I’m issuing you an Uzi semiautomatic.” “Do you know what happens when you shoot a ghost? It’s like shooting smoke. It DOES NOT WORK.” “Well, too bad for you. You have to go. You know you won’t be able to find another job. I’ll even pay you triple your current weekly salary for doing this. Last chance before you lose your job.” “Fine. I’ll do it. But I won’t be happy.” “You don’t have to be. You just have to get the job done.”

§  §  §
John held the Uzi ready in case the ghost paid a surprise visit. He knew it wouldn’t work, but it felt like it kept him safe. He didn’t know what he was looking for. Here, it was all weeds and lake. He was wearing a helmet with a camera on the top that streamed the video wirelessly to his Charles, who was recording it. A sound came from behind him. John whipped around, holding out the gun.  A frog ribbited three feet away. John sighed. The frog hopped away and jumped towards the lake. Instantly three white, transparent tendrils erupted from beneath the water, all grasping the little frog. After writhing for a second, the knot of tongues with the frog disappeared into the lake. The water roiled in that area for a minute. Then all was still. John’s mouth hung open. A gasp from the headset he was wearing told him that Charles had caught that too. John held the gun all the more ready, walking slowly around the lake. After ten uneventful minutes, John was just beginning to relax. Then, out of nowhere something huge, brown, and furry shot of the lake to land scarcely 20 feet from him. It was a giant WEREFROG *dun-dun-DUUUUUNNNNNN* John turned to run, but more werefrogs emerged from the lake and surrounded him. They all howled at once. The sound was dark and eerie, haunting and creepy. Clouds rushed across the sky, becoming dark. Rain poured down, thunder flashed, They howled this for a few minutes, then they turned to face John. Then, all at once, they became ghosts. They lost their fur and became white shadows with empty eye sockets. John fired a bullet into one’s chest. It passed through and disappeared into the darkness caused by the clouds and rain. A thunderbolt lit the sky. Then one of the frogs jumped at John. As it jumped, it transformed to werefrog form. Maybe they can only attack me in werefrog form, John thought. The Werefrog was almost on top of him. John blindly fired the gun. He heard a sickening sound. He looked up. The frog had been killed by the the point-blank spray of lead, and lay, dead on the ground. John realized that the Werefrogs could only hurt him in that form, and he could only hurt them when they were werefrogs, which they only turned right before they attacked him. But he would have to be careful with his ammunition. He didn’t have much. Another frog jumped. He killed it when it changed form. John did this with all the frogs, suffering only a few close calls. Then, at last, all the frogs lay dead with bullets through their heads and chests. But John only had three bullets left. And the water was frothing.

§  §  §

John slowly walked backwards until his escape was cut off by the body of a dead werefrog. The rain made it impossible to see the lake. But he knew. More werefrogs were coming. And he didn’t have the ammo to hold them off. John actually considered climbing into the dead werefrog’s mouth and hiding in its stomach until the others were gone. But he knew it wouldn’t work. The frogs were too smart.  John readied the Uzi. He would die, but he was taking down as many werefrogs as he could. And then they came. A dozen werefrogs. They were in ghost form, and hungry for blood. His blood. They encircled him. It was the same as last time, but for one thing. This time, the frogs would win. After howling, they looked at him with fury in their eyes then, together, they leaped. The bullets only killed two before they were upon John. No one ever found his remains.

?_?

wait a second, how much was i supposed to do? if i did your part, then at least were even for you doing my second to first part.

Last edited by destructo-serpent (2013-04-13 19:19:40)

Waffle27 wrote:

destructo-serpent wrote:

§  §  §

John slowly walked backwards until his escape was cut off by the body of a dead werefrog. The rain made it impossible to see the lake. But he knew. More werefrogs were coming. And he didn’t have the ammo to hold them off. John actually considered climbing into the dead werefrog’s mouth and hiding in its stomach until the others were gone. But he knew it wouldn’t work. The frogs were too smart.  John readied the Uzi. He would die, but he was taking down as many werefrogs as he could. And then they came. A dozen werefrogs. They were in ghost form, and hungry for blood. His blood. They encircled him. It was the same as last time, but for one thing. This time, the frogs would win. After howling, they looked at him with fury in their eyes then, together, they leaped. The tongue slapped him from behind. John whipped around and pushed away from the slimy muscle, yelling out in surprise. Almost as soon as he had removed the first tongue, a second came from the side, and then a third. John fired once, blindly, but missed everything as his throat constricted and his knees buckled.  His weapon fell from his hand.
    “John!” his headset crackled as his boss yelled out. He barked out orders, including getting some men out there, quick, and calling the police. As if that would help. The frogs would devour them too!
    “No…use…” he tried to say, but instead it came out as a strangled sputter. “Don’t send…more…die…too…”
    “What was that?” Charles asked, concerned for once. John predicted his concern was aimed at his perfect record rather than John’s health. Two deaths in the same amount of days would not be good for his business.
    His Uzi lay to the side, useless as John choked.
No one ever found his remains.

?_?

is it okay if we do this instead? Just added my paragraphs and took away a sentence so itwould flow better. ?_?

much better.

destructo-serpent wrote:

now we're waiting for Nomo to approve the camera thing and continue SS. come to think of it, what should we do next on SS? i'm stumped.

Hm...I'm stumped too. I think Lund has chapter 5, then madbunny 6. SO i guess we should let them brainstorm ideas and if they need any they can ask us.

when's my next chapter?? 9?
also, are we doing chapters in SH or just scenes? cause if it's chapters we'll have pretty short chpters.

@Waffle i guess we should put the AN on wiki. btw, what book is it for? SS?

Last edited by destructo-serpent (2013-04-13 19:28:24)

Hm, probably SS or SH. I know Lund made one too that would actually fit nicely with the WoW fanfic, but since we won't get to that one for a while we can each have one of the books for the Nightmares.

Yeah, your next chapter is 9.

We'll have Chapters but each chapter will provide a little of each person's PoV. Like I was thinking Chapter 1 should end with the Yulognite.

Argh, we haven't been putting anything on the wiki!!! We're losing track of everything!!

Waffle27 wrote:

Hm, probably SS or SH. I know Lund made one too that would actually fit nicely with the WoW fanfic, but since we won't get to that one for a while we can each have one of the books for the Nightmares.

Yeah, your next chapter is 9.

We'll have Chapters but each chapter will provide a little of each person's PoV. Like I was thinking Chapter 1 should end with the Yulognite.

Argh, we haven't been putting anything on the wiki!!! We're losing track of everything!!

hrm... i have a lot of stuff saved on my FD, but it's only stuff that i wrote. i think. it's not that organized.

Under the Swamp?
Under Ryansberg?
The THING? (jk)
Tongues

Last edited by destructo-serpent (2013-04-13 19:36:43)

the boss goes under two different names. maybe he has a twin. or a spy going incognito 

______ insert name an Arabian Nightmare by destructo-serpent and Waffle27

Margaret Denisa Loretta Cruville was walking in Ryansberg swamp. She held her head boldly, knowing she was doing the impossible. Margaret was walking in Ryansberg swamp. And she was surviving.
    Water sloshed over her boots, and squelched at her every step. Spindly marsh plants reached for her knees, plotting to pull her down under the slime, to cut her off from life. Mud squished and splattered, dotting normally pristine boots with specks of brown. Margaret was lucky that those specks weren’t red.
    Suddenly, a rustling rattled the bushes. Margaret whipped around, heart beating a little faster. Behind her, there was a disturbance in the lake. Tiny creases rippled along the surface.
    “Who goes there?” Ms. Cruville asked, pivoting again as wind whistled over the water. Her heart pounded against her chest, begging to be let out so that it, at least, could survive another day. “I know you’re there! You can’t scare me!” she lied.
    No response. All sounds slowly halted. The plants leaned back, almost smug, and stood stock still, like soldiers awaiting orders. The bushes quit rustling. The only thing that continued was the creases in the lake.
    Sighing in relief, Margaret turned back around. Why did everyone make such a big deal out of Ryansberg swamp? It was just the same as any other swamp!
    That’s when it grabbed her. The giant tongue, transparent and ghostly. Margaret choked, sputtered. “Help…me…” she whispered. But it was too late. The tongue pulled her back into the swamp.

      ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE IN RYANSBERG SWAMP!

    Ryansberg Swamp—When Margaret Cruville, 16, walked out of her house on the morning of March 30th, 2013, her parents, Dexter and Frieda Cruville, had no idea she would not be coming back any time soon. The teen went missing after taking as what she told her parents would be a “brief walk in the Swamp.” After 4 hours, when Margaret did not come home, Frieda called several of her friends. Each reported that they hadn’t seen Margaret since the previous day or before, and Frieda eventually called the police. After thorough examination, the department found no body, and the girl is not dubbed dead yet. Further details remain undiscovered.

    “What?” John burst out. He simply couldn’t help himself. After looking at this garbage, it was almost entirely impossible not to be in a funk! “This is stupid! Just a tiny article on the back of the front page!”
    John’s boss, Charles Mockery, nodded his head. “And that’s not the only one. Disappearances like these have been happening for months! Take a look at this one.” He pushed an article dated March 9th across the table.  Similar in context to the most recent story, this article was about a four year old boy named Spencer Karlene who wandered off while his mother wasn’t looking. They had found only his shoe is Ryansberg Swamp.
    “They have no evidence, either.” John concluded.
    “Exactly! That’s why I’m sending you out to find some.”

John lifted his feet high to avoid being caught in the tall marsh weeds. He had been here for five minutes, and he already hated Ryansberg swamp. It was so muddy, and the air buzzed with mosquitoes. He slapped his arm and scared a few of them off. But there was always more. He would die of blood loss before he was even halfway done, he thought. Then small waves rippled across the lake. John froze, almost believing that there could be something monstrous down there. Then he told himself that it was nothing. He turned to his cameraman, Brian. “Are you getting this? We have to let everyone know that Ryansberg Swamp is just a normal marsh.” Brian nodded. John then turned and walked further into the swamp. After a while, he said: “Ok, nothing to find here. Let’s go back.” There was no reply. John quickly turned around at the silence. Brian was gone

§  §  §

“Brian!” John hissed. This wasn’t the time to disappear. Thumping in his chest, John’s heart seemed like a swift, pounding, drum. “Brian, if you’re trying to scare me it’s not working!” he lied.
    The swamp didn’t respond. John took a shaky breath and told himself to calm down. This was all a joke, nothing to worry about, it didn’t matter…
    There was a crunch behind him. Whipping around, John could have sworn he saw movement. Just the slightest blur…
    There it was again! John contemplated whether to creep closer or stay put. Either way, he’d be a goner. “Might as well die knowing what’s killing me,” he decided, sneaking towards the area of suspicion. On the ground at his feet was Brian’s camera, still playing.  He picked it up and pressed the stop button. He tried to rewind the film, but it turned out all Brian had caught was a flash of green grass, then a stormy gray sky.

§  §  §

John was relaxing at his apartment, drinking coffee and watching soccer on his TV. He had made it out of Ryansberg only by wandering aimlessly. Once out, he had turned the tape into his employer and gone home. He wanted nothing more to do with Ryansberg Swamp. Now he planned to relax for an hour until his boss called him with something else to journalize. ring-ring-ring  ”Charles Mockery". Great, John thought, there was his boss calling now. He picked up the phone.*hello? John?**what is it now?**we saw something on the tape. Come over here ASAP.**Fine. See you in a minute.* click he set the telephone down and walked towards the door.

§  §  §

“So, what is it you wanted??” John asked as he walked into his boss’s office. Charles went straight to the point. ”We found something on the tape that is of some interest. Come see this.” Charles took a tape from his pocket and inserted it into a drive connected to a TV. The screen flickered, then showed John walking through the swamp. Then John walked around a corner in the weeds, and the screen fell to the marsh below. There was a sickening sucking sound, then something long, ghostly white, and transparent flashed across the screen. Charles paused and rewinded. The screen stopped to show it. It was a TONGUE.

§  §  §

“No way. I am absolutely NOT going into Ryansberg swamp again. Send me into a hurricane or something, but I am not going into Ryansberg.” “I believe you already said that. Multiple times. But my reply hasn’t chaged: it’s this, or your job.” Charles said.  “Besides, you won’t be unprotected. You have a firearms license, so I’m issuing you an Uzi semiautomatic.” “Do you know what happens when you shoot a ghost? It’s like shooting smoke. It DOES NOT WORK.” “Well, too bad for you. You have to go. You know you won’t be able to find another job. I’ll even pay you triple your current weekly salary for doing this. Last chance before you lose your job.” “Fine. I’ll do it. But I won’t be happy.” “You don’t have to be. You just have to get the job done.”

§  §  §

John held the Uzi ready in case the ghost paid a surprise visit. He knew it wouldn’t work, but it felt like it kept him safe. He didn’t know what he was looking for. Here, it was all weeds and lake. He was wearing a helmet with a camera on the top that streamed the video wirelessly to his Charles, who was recording it. A sound came from behind him. John whipped around, holding out the gun.  A frog ribbited three feet away. John sighed. The frog hopped away and jumped towards the lake. Instantly three white, transparent tendrils erupted from beneath the water, all grasping the little frog. After writhing for a second, the knot of tongues with the frog disappeared into the lake. The water roiled in that area for a minute. Then all was still. John’s mouth hung open. A gasp from the headset he was wearing told him that Charles had caught that too. John held the gun all the more ready, walking slowly around the lake. After ten uneventful minutes, John was just beginning to relax. Then, out of nowhere something huge, brown, and furry shot of the lake to land scarcely 20 feet from him. It was a giant WEREFROG *dun-dun-DUUUUUNNNNNN* John turned to run, but more werefrogs emerged from the lake and surrounded him. They all howled at once. The sound was dark and eerie, haunting and creepy. Clouds rushed across the sky, becoming dark. Rain poured down, thunder flashed, They howled this for a few minutes, then they turned to face John. Then, all at once, they became ghosts. They lost their fur and became white shadows with empty eye sockets. John fired a bullet into one’s chest. It passed through and disappeared into the darkness caused by the clouds and rain. A thunderbolt lit the sky. Then one of the frogs jumped at John. As it jumped, it transformed to werefrog form. Maybe they can only attack me in werefrog form, John thought. The Werefrog was almost on top of him. John blindly fired the gun. He heard a sickening sound. He looked up. The frog had been killed by the the point-blank spray of lead, and lay, dead on the ground. John realized that the Werefrogs could only hurt him in that form, and he could only hurt them when they were werefrogs, which they only turned right before they attacked him. But he would have to be careful with his ammunition. He didn’t have much. Another frog jumped. He killed it when it changed form. John did this with all the frogs, suffering only a few close calls. Then, at last, all the frogs lay dead with bullets through their heads and chests. But John only had three bullets left. And the water was frothing.

§  §  §


         John slowly walked backwards until his escape was cut off by the body of a dead werefrog. The rain made it impossible to see the lake. But he knew. More werefrogs were coming. And he didn’t have the ammo to hold them off. John actually considered climbing into the dead werefrog’s mouth and hiding in its stomach until the others were gone. But he knew it wouldn’t work. The frogs were too smart.  John readied the Uzi. He would die, but he was taking down as many werefrogs as he could. And then they came. A dozen werefrogs. They were in ghost form, and hungry for blood. His blood. They encircled him. It was the same as last time, but for one thing. This time, the frogs would win. After howling, they looked at him with fury in their eyes then, together, they leaped. The tongue slapped him from behind. John whipped around and pushed away from the slimy muscle, yelling out in surprise. Almost as soon as he had removed the first tongue, a second came from the side, and then a third. John fired once, blindly, but missed everything as his throat constricted and his knees buckled.  His weapon fell from his hand.
    “John!” his headset crackled as his boss yelled out. He barked out orders, including getting some men out there, quick, and calling the police. As if that would help. The frogs would devour them too!
    “No…use…” he tried to say, but instead it came out as a strangled sputter. “Don’t send…more…die…too…”
    “What was that?” Charles asked, concerned for once. John predicted his concern was aimed at his perfect record rather than John’s health. Two deaths in the same amount of days would not be good for his business.
    His Uzi lay to the side, useless as John choked.
No one ever found his remains.



here we go. but for the title, it's ready. i even changed the boss's name to Charles.

Last edited by destructo-serpent (2013-04-13 19:48:12)

Waffle27 wrote:

YAY!
Okay, um....the name....*thinks thinks thinks*
I dunno!! D:
It should have either Frog or Swamp or Ryansberg in the title though.

how 'bout
Underneath Ryansberg?

btw, you know the dun-dun-DUUUUNNNN thing? should i delete that? it might make ppl laugh, which isn't the goal in a horror story.

Waffle27 wrote:

destructo-serpent wrote:

Waffle27 wrote:

YAY!
Okay, um....the name....*thinks thinks thinks*
I dunno!! D:
It should have either Frog or Swamp or Ryansberg in the title though.

how 'bout
Underneath Ryansberg?

btw, you know the dun-dun-DUUUUNNNN thing? should i delete that? it might make ppl laugh, which isn't the goal in a horror story.

Lol, yeah i laughed when I read the Dun dun dun thing. You can delete it if you want to.

Okay, Underneath Ryansberg sounds good. Do you want to put it on the wiki or should I?

yeah, that's perfect dundunduuun timing, too bad it kind of ruins it.


you can put it on the wiki.