|The Silver Box
Author: DarkDawnRose777 PM
This story is about a girl, similar to Devi yet has some of the characteristics of Johnny. She has a very crazy mind that makes her do things she shouldn't. WARNING: This story is very morbid and visual. TURN AWAY NOW OR CAUSE YOUR MIND TO SUFFER!Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Suspense - Devi D. & Johnny C. - Words: 579 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 09-09-11 - id: 7368869
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
HELLO THERE!You are about to read one of the creepiest stories EVER WRITTEN! As you read, you shall discover my strange imagination about a twisted girl and her psychotic mind. (Just to tell you guys, I was just writing this story for fun, I AM NOT CRAZY! I AM NORMAL! :D! DON'T JUDGE MEEEEE! THIS STORY IS SOMETHING RANDOM I WROTE UP GEEZ! I do not own JTHM or any of its characters.
Drip drip drip the water went as it slid itself across the floor.
Like a tear, it made a puddle that would not dry for a long period of time, and never be cleaned up. More drips chorused together like an operatic melody that sung to her mind.
She watched the tears drip down from the flesh above her and began making tears of her own slide down her cheeks.
Never loved, forgotten, and alone she was.
The only thing left was anger and death that filled her mind.
She pushed every ounce of happiness away as she gazed into the dark confinements of her room.
Mold ate at almost every inch of the walls of the house, like the walls of her heart were being eaten away by sorrow.
All of the furniture was made out of human bones and flesh.
A stone table stood in the living room, with many different knives, nails, and sewing tools lain out.
Spoiled food was strewn everywhere, along with her life.
In front of her was a blank piece of paper set on an easel.
The chair she sat upon was made out of human hair, and the legs were human legs, and the arms were human arms.
Her hand shook vigorously as she dipped her brush into the red liquid.
Closer and closer the brush came until it came to an obrupt stop.
The brushes mind was empty, everything it thought was darkness and nothing else.
It could not paint a picture because of how empty it was.
She screamed in unison as she dropped the brush and hit the easel over, strewning the red liquid like death spreading all over the floor.
"Ding Dong!" The doorbell sounded.
She looked up in confusion.
Nobody EVER rung her doorbell.
She walked like a Zombie through the catacombs of her home, and looked up to the trapdoor above her.
DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG!
The bell beckoned her now even louder and more urgent like a plea.
She grabbed the rusty handle and yanked at it from the ceiling.
As it opened, dust fell to the floor.
The trapdoor opened flooding in light that caused her to shield her eyes, as the thing fell through the trapdoor with a scream and landed on the stone floor in a crumpled heap.
Her face looked into his with utter confusion and anger.
In his face was love, kindness, and hope.
In his hand was a little silver box.
With much grace, he greeted her hand with the object. She looked at it in pure aww.
Not a single soul had ever given a gift to her in her life, including her parents.
She looked up to him in gratitude but noticed that he had vanished.
All that was left of him was a ladder that led up to the trapdoor.
She opened the box and found it empty, empty like her soul.
I hope you liked my morbid imagination so far! If you want more, PLEASE REVIEW! :D