Short+story+-+Christina,+Morgan+and+Kiah

//Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a story took place. This story had no princesses or dragons - just a young boy, a knife, a clock and a somewhat abandoned warehouse. // This story begins one overcast, sepia coloured day in the outskirts of London. A boy no younger than nine but no older than thirteen rides down the street on a red bicycle, humming a familiar song to himself as thunder booms overhead. Now, imagine some suspenseful music and the scene is set. The thunder booms even louder, and the boy now realises that rain is minutes away. He has to find shelter. //BOOM! // Too late. The rain starts pounding down on his blonde head, and he ducks into the nearest doorway. He shakes the water from his hair and looks around. He is on the threshold of a warehouse. A dark, gloomy warehouse that smells like rot and looks like it hadn't been touched for a thousand years. The rain starts to get heavier and more horizontal, until the doorway is not enough to shield the boy. He pushes the rusting door open and creeps into the warehouse. It's completely empty; rusting equipment leans on walls and cobwebs fill not only the corners, but most of the room. The boy coughs and the sound echoes eerily in the huge room. He pulls out a book from his schoolbag and swats away some of the cobwebs on the closest wall. He then takes out a permanent marker, and scrawls 'Jonathan Abbot was here 1990' on the wall. Jonathan Abbot was his name, but 1990 was not the year. It was 1991, and had been for twelve days now. Realising his mistake, Jonathan scribbles out the zero and replaces it with a one. He steps back, proud of himself and hits another cobweb. After a frantic dance to get the long-dead spiders off, Jonathan looks at his handiwork once more. The one had been crossed out, replaced by a two, then a three, and so on until the year was made 2090. Spider webs had been made over the wall and the writing was now barely visible. For a boy no younger than nine but no older than thirteen, this is almost enough to make him scared. Jonathan takes a step back, checking the ground behind him to make sure he doesn't trip over. Suddenly a shrill, cackling laugh erupts from the far end of the warehouse, echoing around the walls as Jonathan rapidly steps back, then turns in an attempt to escape out the door of the warehouse only to run into a thick tangle of cobwebs. He screams, backpedaling until he trips over a large pile of rusting junk as more shrill laughter fills the air. "Who-whose t-there?", he manages to stutter, scrambling up and turning around in circles, trying to locate the source of the horrid noise,"W-where are you?" As Jonathan tries to pull himself free, the spider webs begin to pull back like curtains and shadows cast by the machinery lengthen and pull away into the centre of the room. The shadows now seem to be assembling; all the shadows in the room, pushing together so hard that they are stacking up and forming a figure. The figure is small but humanoid, with cobwebby wings. It cackles again, and the inside of its mouth is like a black hole, even in its shadowy face. Jonathan screeches, a noise barely human enough for an adult to make- what with all their practice and whatnot- let alone a young boy. A noise comprised of raw fear. By now, no doubt, a loud symphony of percussion and string instruments is playing in your mind as our story comes to its climax. But do not worry, we still have a while to go. Now imagine, a smile so fearsome, so cruel, that you can simply not move, not speak, when you see it, for it's strikes you cold. Nasty pointed teeth closing around a darkness that is deeper than you have ever before seen. That is what Jonathan is staring at, at this very moment as the creature hops down from its stack of rusting machinery to stand before him. A clock chimes loudly, but a few meters away from the pair and suddenly the boy opens his mouth, only to emit a quite, strangled cry. He closes his mouth, swallows, and tries again, "W-what do you want?" Slowly, the creature opens its mouth, revealing again the gaping shadow between its teeth. "Fff..." the creature trails off, as if it's trying to talk for the first time. "Ffffu-" Jonathan is moving away as fast as he can, but he can feel something furry behind him. He gags. The creature smiles cruelly. "Fun."� Jonathan shrieks again and spins around. He blindly hits out at the furry thing and it splits smoothly in two. He watches, stunned, as it reforms. It's another shadowy fairy-thing, only if the other one looked like a friendly leprechaun, this one was an angry gorilla. Jonathan strikes again, and in the time it takes to reform, he jumps through the gap and out the door. He sprints down the cobblestone path, slipping over the wet stones, barely able to see. All around him shadows move, freeing themselves from their bonds that tie them to wall and allowing them to form together into solid masses that reach out and stroke him, sending chilling shivers through his spine and limbs. Finally, unable to stay around the creatures any longer he barges through the closest door he can reach. He bursts through the rotted wood to find himself at the bottom of a large, winding staircase. He hesitates for a moment, but when he hears cackling behind him he leaps up the stairs, two steps at a time. Around and around they go and faster and faster he goes as closer and closer the voices get. Finally, after what seemed like years, he bounds up the final steps and finds himself among bells and cogs, cornered in the weathered machinery of a long-retired belltower. But he does not stop. He continues running, slipping around bells and squeezing through cogs, as cackles crowd around him and shadows continue to leap and chase. "No!", he shouts as he comes to a dead end, "No!". But then he pauses. Before him is a huge, polished brass bell, that reflects the shapes, the moving shadows around it. And in the bell, caught in its shiny brass casing, stands a man. Jonathan gasps and reaches up to touch his cheek. The man does also. Unwillingly the boy realises that the man standing in the bell is him. But it can't be. He is too tall, too broad, too aged to be a boy no younger than nine and no older than thirteen. He whirls around to face his pursuers, "What did you do to me!?" He is only answered with cackles and the soft murmur of "Fun". Suddenly he dives under the bell. He is encased in darkness and he reaches out blindly. His hand curls around something hard and he realises as he drags it towards him, that it is a knife. He can feel the creatures around him, murmuring and laughing. "Stay back!", he shouts, thrusting the knife forward. The creatures shriek and he can feel them moving away, "Undo what you did! Take it back!". A voice whispers in his ear, "Then sleep. Sleep". He tries to fight it, but he can feel himself falling away. //<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: auto;">The body of Jonathan Abbot, aged 11, was found yesterday next to the abandoned belltower in the Fey Warehouse. After vandalising the main factory, it appears that he was climbing on the outside of the tower when he fell. Police are investigating the accident and Health and Safety issues of the buildings. // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: auto;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: auto;">- Police report, January 14, 2090 //