Author: TheRabidWriter PM
Ashling was your average Art Geek; Until Freddy,Jason, and Michael force her to use her newfound "Gift" and her love for Horror to help them fight the Remakes. Not to mention they are making her life a living hell. Rated T for language and sexual themesRated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Humor - Chapters: 15 - Words: 50,059 - Reviews: 183 - Favs: 70 - Follows: 60 - Updated: 04-17-13 - Published: 05-19-12 - id: 8131895
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Hello there readers! Here is my new story! Don't worry it does get funnier in the next chapter. We all know the first chapter is the hardest to write, with the introductions, setting, etc. etc.
I picture Ashling as Emma Stone if she were ever a character in a movie c:
Chapter One: Ashling
Somewhere, deep inside a nightmare, a single boiler came on, lighting the entire area. Flames licked the sides of the metal container, emitting heat from its body. A figure emerged from the shadows, casting itself on the metals walls of the boiler room. The silhouette of a hat, and a body, then four razor-like claws. The body stalked it's way down towards the single boiler, and using his razors, he stabbed at the object in front of him.
"Alright, so what do you two boneheads want? " Freddy asked, wiggling his claw at the two giants before him. Michael Myers whipped out a yellow lined-paper pad, and a sharpie, and began to scrawl something down.
Freddy, you know we're all here to discuss what happened..
"About?" He asked as he leaned against a pipe, smoke swirling up off the fabric.
Those stupid remake guys..Jason pouted as his thoughts echoed through the room, lowering his head, they killed another one.
"When will these A-Holes," Freddy shouted, and he examined his claws, "stop killing OUR fans! You think they'd learn after we kill theirs too! It's a wonder they have any…"
Well my remake was just a rip-off of Voorhees hallucinating his 'Mommy' and made me look weak.. Michael wrote as he grumbled underneath his mask not to mention made me look like the Hulk in a mask and mechanic suit.
And my movie was just…I don't even know! That girl looked NOTHING like Mommy! Jason exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, before bringing them down. Freddy rolled his eyes.
"Don't complain Hockey Puck, at least yours wasn't technically a remake! Have you seen my guy? He looks like a Plastic-Surgery DISASTER!" Making a disgusted face, Freddy made a weird noise before turning away. "So basically, they're just trying to weaken our power by destroying our fan base?"
Basically. Oh and forcing some fans to convert to the Remake Side of the argument. So, Mike whipped out a calculator and began to punch in some numbers, making mumbled noises, so that's about 65.7% Original Fans and 34.3% Remake Fans.
"Huh. So what's the plan Assholes?" Michael just shrugged as he tapped the pen thoughtfully against his mask, while Jason scratched his head with his machete.
What if we got some sort of…what're they called?…I forget but they got like powers and stuff?
"Well, Dumbass, the limited amount of people who have power either have very little power so it's barely noticeable and they don't even know, or they're like us. Un-human." Freddy scoffed.
Well, couldn't you give em' powers?
Freddy opened his mouth to say something snaky but closed it immediately, and put a hand to his chin, humming as he thought.
"Ya' know…you could be on to something'.." He murmured and fixed his hat.
See! We could find someone with strong..whats it called Mike?
That thingy. And we can give em' power!
"I like that. Manipulation, Trickery, right up my alley!" Freddy slapped his knee and let out a laugh. "We find some fan, NOT a fan girl! Remember the last time?" They all shuddered and Jason's left eye began to twitch. Mike pat him on the back, to soothe him and Jason relaxed.
"So, we find a fan with some sort of Energy Field, probably a lucid dreamer, they are my favorite," He grinned, "then force em' to help us, then once those Remakes give up and leave us alone, we kill em'!"
Time to search? Michael asked, scrawling the question out.
"Yeah we kinda need to.."
I'll get the paper..
Six Minutes Later…
Freddy looked over Michaels shoulder as he skimmed through the Horror Daily.
"And don't choose a crazy, obsessive one either!" Freddy called out and Michael used his sharpie to cross off another face on the 'Top Twenty' Fan page.
I say we choose a girl, because they're motherly. Jason pointed out as his eyes skimmed the page. Michael nodded, but grimaced.
What if Freddy gets to her though? The two simultaneously turned their heads towards Krueger, who pouted at the remark.
"I'm not that bad!" He shouted at them, and their response was eye rolling. "How bout…that one!"
"I just lost my appetite…"
Michael scribbled out the face of girl number 16, and they all began to argue over good qualities, bad ones, and how they'd come in contact.
Hey guys! How's this one? Michael scrawled down and pointed with the end of the marker. The killers all leaned in and looked at the paper. A creepy grin crawled up Freddy's face, and Jason gave a thumbs up of approval. Michael shrugged, indifferent to the situation, and Freddy snorted with delight.
Somewhere in a small town called Bridgewater..
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The hand flew out from under the purple sheets, slamming down on the Ihome's off button. The obnoxious beeping ceased creating a ruckus, and the sheets moved as the lump underneath it sat up. That lump?
I removed the sheets from my head and yawned, smacking my lips in annoyance and checked the clock. 6:01, I hate mornings. They're the end of the dreams, which consume your thoughts with strange and unusual things. Dreams are exciting, Oh! I almost forgot!
I quickly grabbed my red leather journal, flipping through the dog-eared pages and opened up to a blank paper.
"Zombie dream," I wrote on the top, and began to scrawl down the events, "I was running through my street, carrying an axe with two dogs. Suddenly a hoard of zombies began chasing use, so I began to run away, chopping their heads off. I came to a cliff, and without having anything else to do, I jumped off but floated down to safety. So, I knew I was dreaming and changed the dream to one where I was a cat…it was nice."
I finished writing and put down the journal, before yawning again.
"Time to get up." I groaned and rolled off the bed, hopping in front of the mirror. My auburn hair was sticking up in a ferocious and disgusting tangled mess. My brown eyes were all foggy from waking up, and my freckles were spread around my face as always.
"Meh." I shrugged and threw off my sleep shorts and shirt, and throwing open my closet door. "It's been pretty warm for April so far so…Tee shirt." Shuffling through the mess of clothes, I finally grabbed a black tee shirt, and slammed the door shut.
"I should probably put pants on.."
Pulling open a drawer, I slipped on white shorts and looped a belt through it, before pulling on my black vans. After spending a good twenty minutes getting ready, I was finally done. My hair was no longer a disgrace, it was tamed and in a manageable ponytail. Grumbling I spent an annoying two minutes deciding between glasses or contacts.
Stuffing my book bag with stuff that I deemed necessary (such as Sketchbook, Pencils, Lotion, Gum, and Skittles) I slung it over rimy shoulder and headed down into the kitchen.
"Morning Tasha," I said to my sister, a senior, as she sat at our kitchen table. Laid in front of her was a bowl of Frosted Flakes, Two apples, a Nutragrain bar, and milk. "Hungry much?"
"Hey! Shut up I have a game today…" Tasha growled, he mouth full of cereal, and she threw a paper bag stuffed with food into her backpack.
"Oh yeah. Sorry I can't go, I need to get working on my painting for the Art Show next Wednesday."
"Ohmygod it's on hump day?"
"Hump day!" I exclaimed as I poured Lucky Charms into a bowl, splashing milk inside of it.
"Watcha gonna paint? Horror I assume?" Tasha scarfed down her bar and gulped her milk, winking at me.
"I can't help it if I like horror..it's inspiring." I sighed and shoved a mouthful of cereal in my mouth, chewing it, swallowing, before talking like PewDiePie from Youtube, one of my favorite impressions to do: "I did it for piggeh. And a lot of other people too. Like, Stephano, I did for too."
Tasha nodded as she laughed, then made a strange growling noise as she finished her breakfast. I continued to slowly eat my cereal.
"Ashling, wanna go soon?"
"I'm driving home tonight right?" I asked as I cleaned my bowl out, taking her's as well. She nodded, and threw out her trash, before sitting on the counter. Swinging her legs like a child, Tasha sighed.
"Tom left for work early so he could stop and get breakfast, and Mom got called in early." She explained to me as I cleaned the dishes. I nodded, and looked out the window.
"I appreciate Tom's love for antique houses, and the forest." I sighed, and smiled.
"Your just happy you have tree's to climb and woods to explain you Squirrel." Tasha joked. "And Yeah, the house is pretty nice."
You see, My father left when I was seven, and I wasn't exactly sad to see him go. So my mom, Carrie, kind of got depressed and angry, and Tasha and I secretly made her an Harmony account. She wasn't happy at first, but then she met Tom, they went on a couple dates, and four years later they got married! So they've been together five years! Tom has a thing for antiques, vintage, old-fashioned stuff, etc. and he ended up fining us a new house.
I don't like two things.
A.) the driveway. It's a pain in the ass to drive up because it's so damn long.
B.) Our private street name. Whispering Wood. It sounds like something out of a crappy Ghost story.
"Let's go," Tasha broke me out of my daydreaming, "Come on get out of the Ashling Zone and let's get to school.""Fine." I grabbed my house key and hopped outside, running to Tasha's car. As soon as I was out, I swung open the passenger side door and climbed in, putting my headphones in and blasting Christina Perri.
"Ashling! Helloooo? Ash! Girl! Wait up!" I finally heard a voice screeching and I turned around on the sidewalk. Running from the Senior Lot, where I had recently been leaving, was my friend Lynn. Lynn was a very short, very friendly, and very beautiful girl. Her hair was black, with light brown highlights, cut to her chin in beautiful layers. Her eyes were very dark, darker than mine, and she always had a new bag or new clothes. Not just because she's rich, but also because she's an only child. And no, I'm not just her friend because she's rich…that's only a tiny bit.
"Hey Lynn," I said, wrapping my headphones around my Ipod and stuffing it in my bag. Raising a brow, I smiled and asked, "New bag?" Lynn looked down to her arm, at the new coach bag and nodded.
"Yeah! The old one was too big."
"And the one before that too small, the one before that too dark, the one before that too light.." I mocked with a teasing smile as I counted on my fingers. Pouting she only giggled and shrugged.
"Guilty as charged. Hello, My name's Lynn and I am a Shop-o-holic." She said with her hand over her heart, closing her eyes for a split second before winking.
"Hi, My name's Ashling and I'm an Art Geek." I joined along in the pledge, accidentally bumping into seniors as we walked through the Senior Lot, "Oh. Sorry…My bad."
"Not to mention a faboo (Faboo was Lynn's made up word) singer." Lynn added, making an "Oh!" face and pulling out a bag of Butterscotch candies, throwing it into mine.
"Meh." I shrugged and Lynn just continued to skip along, waving and smiling to everyone she saw."Euuugh god I have Spanish first. I hate Spanish. Meh."
"Why do you say meh?" Lynn asked, as we walked inside.
"I don't know.."
Let's Skip School cause' I said so….Last Period: Chemistry:
Chemistry. Literally one of the most pointless classes in existence. Seriously, if I wanted to be a writer or a Psychologist when I grew up, when was Stoicheometry ever going to be needed in that field of expertise? I mean, come on at least teach us about the brain or,…interesting stuff. Not that I'm complaining too much, I mean our teachers nice he's just…
Okay, I need to explain this in better detail. On the first day, we had a really awesome guy who assigned us this Glog, a website for Chemistry. Then he proceeds to ask a black girl in my class:
"Hey, if the world was a sweatshirt, where would all the black people live? In the hood!"
Yeah, he's fired for sure.
Then we get the shocking surprise that Glog, once you're a member for a month, turns into a porn website. Isn't my first teacher just a gem? So for a month we had a sub, and lemme tell ya first term was the easiest A ever.
Then Mr. Lewis came along. He has gone to many schools he told us, so he's probably been fired. He does not have a teaching degree. He has a terrible stutter and constantly does not complete sentences. He always says "K." when you ask a question, and he can't control a class at all.
Therefore, the idiots in my class just bother the hell out of the poor guy. Although it's hysterical sometimes so I can't complain too much about that either.
So, having him last period is terrible, especially on a Friday. When we have a quiz.
"N-no w-w-we will n-not postpone, c-change the q-quest." He stuttered angrily at the leader of the We Love To Taunt And Piss Of Kevin Lewis Group, or the WLTTAPOKG for short, Miles.
"But come ooooooon Mr. Lewis!"
I rolled my eyes and opened up the bag of candies Lynn had given me that morning. Turning to look at probably my only friend in the class, Trey, I made a face before sticking a candy in my mouth.
"Um Sharing is Caring Ash," He said and held out a hand, before I dropped a candy in it. "Thank you!"
"No problem. Actually, thank Lynn later she gave em; to me."
Ya' see, I'm not the most popular girl in school but I'm not hated either. I kinda float from group to group, to people I'm comfortable with, but I'm usually very quiet. I don't know, maybe it's because I just hate a lot of the kids in my school. Some hate me cause I'm an Art Geek, others just don't talk to me, and some do just because they're either the funny guy or just friendly.
"Mr. Lewis," A girl Caroline said as he handed out the test, "Can Ashling help me on this? She explains it waaay better than you!"
"Me too! I need help Mr. Lewis! And no offense, but you can't teach…" Trey said, and I felt my face turn red. No! No, I do not want to upstage the teacher and have him hate me!
"I have a different version from her!" Caroline said, holding it up. Mr. Lewis just shifted his eyes from Trey, to Caroline, to Me, and I buried my face in my bag. Yep, I hate Chemistry. Oh, great, I have work right after this. Yay.