tommydarascal
kickbox
Hi everyone!
The following short story is about a Japenese haunted house, and a young man wishing to explore it to find Mr Osataka, a researcher who is writing a book about the house. He is fascinated by his legends, and Mr Osataka is staying there for a few days to note down his research.
The following story is not complete, but I was wondering whether it is worth continuing or whether it is complete rubbish. Please give me your opinions honestly, but also remember this is not complete nor is it edited, so there may be a few mistakes etcetera.
Please also remember that I have started this short story on Microsoft Word, so any italics or difference of fonts have not been included.
The Himuro Legend
- The Strangling Ritual -
Tae felt the cold wind pelting his face as he slowly stepped up the cobble stairway, the rain spat and the clouds shifted above. In front of him, the Himuro mansion loomed, and he knew he was there; he had arrived. It was true. The Himuro mansion did exist, Mr Osataka was right. His legends could be true …
Tae’s heart thudded, thudded, thudded, as he continued up the steps. The mansion’s curved, Japanese roof intimidated him, but he dared to go on. Intrigue and curiosity besotted him to a point where it was no longer controllable.
Mr Osataka and the legend of the Himuro mansion … the Strangling Ritual … I must go on …
Tae reached the top of the steps and an old wooden bridge, unstable by the looks of it, lay before him. His heart continued to thud, thud, and thud. The wind continued to howl through the trees, and the bridge swayed before him.
In the wind, a whisper: “The Strangling Ritual … free yourself, the rope marks are appearing!”
Tae placed his foot on the bridge.
Free yourself from the Himuro mansion!
I must go on …
He placed his other foot on the bridge. An immediate silence occurred. The wind stopped. The rain stopped spitting. The Himuro mansion became more evident than ever, its curved roof screaming pain and history, a deadly secret …
Tae slowly crossed the bridge, shaking. Mr Osataka … was here … The Himuro mansion became larger as he drew near; thud, thud, and he silently reached the door, thud, thud, with his knees shaking, thud, and thud. And thud …
His pale hand reached out for the door handle …
THE STRANGLING RITUAL! GET AWAY!
And he pulled the door. It creaked open, ever so slowly, and as he looked inside he became very aware of the enclosing darkness beyond. There were holes in the floor, with bloodstained kimonos hanging on broken doors.
Tae dropped Mr Osataka’s letter on the floor in amazement, I am here, and he stepped into the Himuro mansion, thud. The door slammed shut behind him, and he immediately became concealed in the dark, dangerous black.
The Strangling Ritual has begun …
“Osataka?”
There was a silence, a black silence, and then, out of nowhere, a scream pierced through the broken timbers of the house. Then the painful silence returned.
Thud … thud …
“Here …” Whispers.
Tae stepped anywhere into the black, holding his arms out and tearing cobwebs.
Another scream.
Tae turned around slowly, and drew nearer to the source of the scream, his heart thudding slowly in his shaking ribcage.
“Osataka? …”
Closer, closer … Osataka … closer …
The darkness lightened a little, illuminating black objects slightly and casting shadows across the demolished house.
“Osataka?”
A long, dark hallway spread before him, long dangling Ropes tumbling from the ceiling, blood stains on some, some torn, dangling … deadly.
The Strangling Ritual …
Tae’s eyes were filled with fright and slowly dripped with tears. Bloodstains patched and dotted the floor. He crept slowly, down the dark hallway, through the dangling Ropes, hanging from the old, wooden beams above. The Ropes sled from Tae’s body, and with every rope he heard the same whisper: “The Himuro ritual …the rope marks …the mirror …”
Tae reached the end of the hallway, thud, and his black hair trembled helplessly on his head: his whole body quivered uncontrollably …
Visions suddenly filled his mind, true nightmares …
Walking down the roped, dark hallway, Mr Osataka held a candle in his hand.
“What are the Ropes for?” Kimoa squealed.
“The Himuro legend suggests these Ropes were used for the purposes of the Strangling Ritual …” A flash of light.
Osataka sprinted down the hallway with a camera. He fumbled it helplessly in his hands, and brought it to his face.
“Where are you, Himuro, where are you? Let me set you free, where are you?”
Osataka looked into the mirror and dropped the camera …
HIMUROOOOOOOOO!
A flash of light filled the mirror, the hallway.
Tae opened his eyes, and looked below the mirror, and to his sheer terror, he realised. The camera lay on its side. Tae, shaking, picked it up.
The Camera Obscurer …
Reluctantly, shuddering, he looked into the mirror. A shining white hand pressed his shoulder, and with it, hundreds of hands and faces swarmed toward him, and screaming, in the mirror, he was brought to the Ropes …
The following short story is about a Japenese haunted house, and a young man wishing to explore it to find Mr Osataka, a researcher who is writing a book about the house. He is fascinated by his legends, and Mr Osataka is staying there for a few days to note down his research.
The following story is not complete, but I was wondering whether it is worth continuing or whether it is complete rubbish. Please give me your opinions honestly, but also remember this is not complete nor is it edited, so there may be a few mistakes etcetera.
Please also remember that I have started this short story on Microsoft Word, so any italics or difference of fonts have not been included.
The Himuro Legend
- The Strangling Ritual -
Tae felt the cold wind pelting his face as he slowly stepped up the cobble stairway, the rain spat and the clouds shifted above. In front of him, the Himuro mansion loomed, and he knew he was there; he had arrived. It was true. The Himuro mansion did exist, Mr Osataka was right. His legends could be true …
Tae’s heart thudded, thudded, thudded, as he continued up the steps. The mansion’s curved, Japanese roof intimidated him, but he dared to go on. Intrigue and curiosity besotted him to a point where it was no longer controllable.
Mr Osataka and the legend of the Himuro mansion … the Strangling Ritual … I must go on …
Tae reached the top of the steps and an old wooden bridge, unstable by the looks of it, lay before him. His heart continued to thud, thud, and thud. The wind continued to howl through the trees, and the bridge swayed before him.
In the wind, a whisper: “The Strangling Ritual … free yourself, the rope marks are appearing!”
Tae placed his foot on the bridge.
Free yourself from the Himuro mansion!
I must go on …
He placed his other foot on the bridge. An immediate silence occurred. The wind stopped. The rain stopped spitting. The Himuro mansion became more evident than ever, its curved roof screaming pain and history, a deadly secret …
Tae slowly crossed the bridge, shaking. Mr Osataka … was here … The Himuro mansion became larger as he drew near; thud, thud, and he silently reached the door, thud, thud, with his knees shaking, thud, and thud. And thud …
His pale hand reached out for the door handle …
THE STRANGLING RITUAL! GET AWAY!
And he pulled the door. It creaked open, ever so slowly, and as he looked inside he became very aware of the enclosing darkness beyond. There were holes in the floor, with bloodstained kimonos hanging on broken doors.
Tae dropped Mr Osataka’s letter on the floor in amazement, I am here, and he stepped into the Himuro mansion, thud. The door slammed shut behind him, and he immediately became concealed in the dark, dangerous black.
The Strangling Ritual has begun …
“Osataka?”
There was a silence, a black silence, and then, out of nowhere, a scream pierced through the broken timbers of the house. Then the painful silence returned.
Thud … thud …
“Here …” Whispers.
Tae stepped anywhere into the black, holding his arms out and tearing cobwebs.
Another scream.
Tae turned around slowly, and drew nearer to the source of the scream, his heart thudding slowly in his shaking ribcage.
“Osataka? …”
Closer, closer … Osataka … closer …
The darkness lightened a little, illuminating black objects slightly and casting shadows across the demolished house.
“Osataka?”
A long, dark hallway spread before him, long dangling Ropes tumbling from the ceiling, blood stains on some, some torn, dangling … deadly.
The Strangling Ritual …
Tae’s eyes were filled with fright and slowly dripped with tears. Bloodstains patched and dotted the floor. He crept slowly, down the dark hallway, through the dangling Ropes, hanging from the old, wooden beams above. The Ropes sled from Tae’s body, and with every rope he heard the same whisper: “The Himuro ritual …the rope marks …the mirror …”
Tae reached the end of the hallway, thud, and his black hair trembled helplessly on his head: his whole body quivered uncontrollably …
Visions suddenly filled his mind, true nightmares …
Walking down the roped, dark hallway, Mr Osataka held a candle in his hand.
“What are the Ropes for?” Kimoa squealed.
“The Himuro legend suggests these Ropes were used for the purposes of the Strangling Ritual …” A flash of light.
Osataka sprinted down the hallway with a camera. He fumbled it helplessly in his hands, and brought it to his face.
“Where are you, Himuro, where are you? Let me set you free, where are you?”
Osataka looked into the mirror and dropped the camera …
HIMUROOOOOOOOO!
A flash of light filled the mirror, the hallway.
Tae opened his eyes, and looked below the mirror, and to his sheer terror, he realised. The camera lay on its side. Tae, shaking, picked it up.
The Camera Obscurer …
Reluctantly, shuddering, he looked into the mirror. A shining white hand pressed his shoulder, and with it, hundreds of hands and faces swarmed toward him, and screaming, in the mirror, he was brought to the Ropes …
Also, please note I have changed some fonts in this text, but it has not shown up in the text below. Okay, here we are ...
