Spooky Scene Project

So for CBA I had to make a "spooky scene" in Word only using shapes. (Click) It's a bit meh, BUT HEY! I was using Word, darnit! D<

And then we ended up having to write a short story for our scene.

Quote :

I stormed up the stairs, coughing horridly. “Geez Mom, haven’t dusted up here in a while, have you?” I was talking to myself, seeing as both my parents told me not to come up here. Something about weak floorboards or something. I could see why. Old furniture, boxes, and other long-forgotten things were tightly packed in the small attic, along with fifty million tons of dust. Figuratively speaking—maybe. I picked my way across, scanning in the dim light of my flashlight.

“Oh geez, Viola, I can’t see you at all!”

I turned around, catching my twin trying to peer through the dust cloud to see me. She didn’t even have to shield her eyes from the choked beam. “You wouldn’t have lost me if you weren’t so slow, Ophelia.”

“You’re moving too fast! Don’t submit yourself to the dust bunny overlords so quickly,” she said with the most serious face. I couldn’t help but laugh, and then about die from a clogged trachea.

Once all—or at least most—of the dust was out of my lungs, I told her a quick “come on” as I started back on my scavenger hunt.

Now, you’re probably wondering what the two of us were doing up here in such hazardous conditions. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have risked my life like this. But we need baby pictures for the yearbook, since we were seniors. Only after scouring the house and not coming up with any family photo albums we decided to trek the vast and filthy attic.

Something lightly tapped my shoulder. I screamed. Loudly.

“Gah, Viola! It’s just me!” I turned around, heart racing a mile a minute.

Still shouting, I retorted, “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed, “Don’t get your panties in a knot.”

I paused, wondering just what to say back. “Okay, you’re my twin and that is still awkward.”

“Whatever,” she chuckled, “let’s split up and try to find those pictures. I want out of this dump.”

We went our separate ways and soon enough the only reminder I wasn’t alone was the faint shuffling on the other side of the room. It was quite eerie and I felt myself constantly looking at every shadow with suspicion. It wasn’t long before I stumbled upon a desk covered in a white-turned gray sheet. I whipped off the covering and quickly covered my face with my sleeve. About a ton of the thick powder had come off in a blizzard. Once it, relatively, cleared, I stared down at the single object laying on the worn mahogany surface. It was a book with a word carved in its surface, but too damaged to read. I flipped open the cover to realize it seemed most likely to be a diary. I leaned down, blew the thin film of dust off the pages, and used the flashlight to read the faded writing.

11-2-00
The doctor said to keep a record of my time here. I don’t know what help it would do. But today was normal. Took a few tests and he says everything is going smoothly. But I see his fake smile. What is he hiding from me?

I blinked rapidly. What in the world? Who wrote this? It was almost if they were sick and the doctor was trying to hide the fact they were dying. Curious, I flipped to the next page.

11-4-00
I found out what the doctor was hiding from me. He knew about Them all along. Why didn’t he tell me? What else has he been hiding? I don’t’ know if I can trust him. . .

I raised an eyebrow. This was getting intriguing. Who was Them? And why did they make the author so worried? Roped in, I flipped to the next entry.

11-7-00
The doctor and I have thought of a great plan. He’s helped my figure out what to do with Them. I’m so glad for his help. Thanks to him no one will ever know.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold the phone! “What to do with Them?” “No one will ever know?” This is getting weird. . .and creepy. But as they say, “curiosity killed the cat”. I couldn’t help myself from going to the next page.

11-81-00
Oh no. I’ve been a bad girl. Poor, poor doctor. He shouldn’t have done it though. It was his fault. Now he’s one of Them. One of Them. Them.

I wanted to step away. I wanted to get away and never come back up here. The author seemed to be a demented little girl! And putting 81? Did she mean 18 or was she just. . .crazy? And the doctor. . .It was almost if she k-ki-No! I’m not going to think about that. I’m just going to get Ophelia and get out of here. Yet as I thought this I was already flipping to the next page.

Detest not that is not, for what is not there turns away from those who are. Salvation has departed and the lost are ensnared in the web of deceit that has been woven, fallen prey to the weavers. False prophet, must you come back to me? I have already become your victim, yet you must torture me more!
I started to shake, realizing she must have become insane. She was a psychopath! A. . .A murderer, perhaps! Them. . .Could they be her victims? But, who is this and why is her diary in my attic?! As if the answer would be revealed in a later entry, I flipped the page.

Only to find a single phrase repeated over and over across the two pages.

Cinerem cineri, pulverem pulveri.

It was then that something sharp made its presence known on my neck. I stiffened, now aware of someone standing right behind me. Their breath was hot and shaky on my ear with soft, maniacal laughter. “Cinerem cineri, pulverem pulveri,” the person sung. “Are you one of Them? No, not yet. You look like me. I don’t like that. I don’t want anyone to find you. No one to find you.” A delicate finger ran traced a line through the dust on the desk. “No one ever finds Them. The doctor made sure of that. Didn’t you wonder why it’s so dusty up here?!” She spat the word, as if she was the Joker and telling Batman an inside joke.

I looked at the tainted winter wonderland with a new look. My stomach did flips. I wanted to scream but the knife hardly even let me breath. I could feel her smile. “Is it dust or. . .something else?” She pressed the blade harder and I could feel a bead of my lifeline rolling down my neck. “Its Them, you know. I think you should join Them.” She sung again.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

tl;dr

Nah...

I think she was just a religious freak.

Good story, though, Shnixk.

That's some creepy shiz. D: I LIKEY THOUGH. *thumbs up*