In The Misty Meadow

*My english project this half term is to write a horror story. And of course I'm putting it on here too. Any comments and feedback would be amazing as it would help me go up a level if you can spot any grammar mistakes.*

Samantha Brown and Lauren Spencer are on a school trip in an ancient mansion in cornwall. What will happen when one of them goes missing and no one can remember her at all??
Read more to find out xx

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5. Five

I followed the trail of surreptitious phantoms, with each one disappearing as soon as I became within a metre of its core.  They were small things; shaped like a tear drop.  They led me for hours (or so it seemed) until I could travel little further.  Luckily for me, good fortune shined against the tall willowy forestry as a glorious light source gleamed proud ahead.

Exhilarated with a new found energy I sprinted towards the luminosity.  As I neared I realised that it wasn’t the welcoming woodland mansion.  Yet I didn’t slow.  I approached filled with joy and relief.  Exhaustion hung off my body like a wizards robe.

I finally reached the welcoming area of radiance and looked in.  The spirits around me disappeared with a final parting: ding!  “Farewell, I hope to thank you later,” I whispered, more for my own benefit.  I strode into the glen exultant as was possible in that dismal situation. I was beginning to question whether the situation I found myself within was real at all.

In front of me was a gorgeous meadow filled with knee high grass.  Wild flowers pocket everywhere (mainly purple ones although a few blue peek through).  Mist blanketed the asymmetric meadow that felt safe though tremendously mysterious.

I walked towards the centre of mystical arena in stunning veneration.  However what I saw there was not pleasant.  For in front of me was a sight I hoped I would never see.  For no one should have to see a sight such as that.  It shook me to the bone.  Tears rolled down my cold bitter cheeks silently.  They were true tears. My heart froze and I shook like a puppy in the cold.  I was sobbing for the sight in front of me was one so terrible it would touch even the hardest of hearts.  In front of me was MY DEAREST FRIEND; THE WHOLE REASON I PUT MYSELF THROUGH THIS ORDEAL.  IN FRONT OF ME WAS Lauren … Dead.

I screamed in frustration.  Whoever or whatever did this, I don’t care.  It WAs THOUGHROLY thoughtless and entirely heartless.  The meadow became less welcoming and more sincere by the second.  Of course it would, there is a corpse lying limp in the heart of it.  Yet still something seemed amiss.  Hairs stood up on the back of my neck and along my arms as I wondered what might be occurring.  Unsure, I turned around.  I knew that what I would see would be something too surreal for me as today had been a hard bleary day.  And I was right.  Standing there in the shadows of the meadow was an eerie creature of the night.  Midnight black hair obscured its face from my vision.  It was standing amongst the tall slender trees framing the mystical meadow like a picture frame.  Its demon red eyes glowed through the mist, a cars headlight, or so it seemed.  The forest was silent though frenzying with hushed activity.  The branches swayed and danced alongside each other and whispered untold words.  Echoes of light crunching footsteps rebounded against my ears. Though I knew there was no resonance.  Silver moonlight swam through the lean trunks in slim rays.

As for it, I knew it all too well.  It was: the night mare.  The creature that I had drawn that fateful dawn; that creature that stalked me through the woods; that creature (I was sure) killed Lauren.  You could tell by the way it gloated at me- smug.  Proud of its unnatural way of bringing about an early death.  The way the buttons on its navy blue jacket that it bore arrogantly on its shoulders had been polished to the upmost rate possible.  The glint in its deep sombre eyes.  And most of all, the lust in its face to kill me too.

What is the point to keep going? Going on when all hope is lost would be foolish and pointless.  The whole reason I did this was to prove my best friend exists, and she does.  No more work to do now.  It may as well take me too.  I will go down with pride. I thought (although I was lying to myself, I wanted to save Lauren).

I stood up straight and proud, ready for my unfortunate death.  I looked into its eyes and noticed it stepping forward.  Yet it could go no further.  It was stuck on the very boundary of the glen.

Ha! It’s stuck.  But how did Laurens body get here? I wonder…

“You’re stuck!” I yelled stupidly.  It glared up at me with venom in its eyes.  In my blissful arrogance of having a one up on it, I did a thing now I see as most stupid.  “Come get me then! Bet you can’t!” I giggled manically.  My frolicking and laughter slowed when I realised that it had stepped forward.

I gasped and stepped back, accidently tripping over Laurens body.  In disgust I scurried backwards on all fours.  My foot caught on something.  I tried to shake it free in desperation.  I turned to see what it was.  Around my ankle was a thin delicate white hand.  It was clasped in a chain around me- I was going nowhere.

I inspected the hand trying to work out whose it was.  I looked further to see something that shocked me to the core.  Lauren had grasped my ankle.  A brisk wind blew through the meadow raising the mist till I could see no more than a few feet away from me.  The long grass bowed in the breeze to an invisible master.  With an identifiable ding, the mist turned azure blue and faces appeared in it.  Laurens body started to rise into a standing position and I was released.  However I could go nowhere as I knew that the Night Mare was not far off. 

I stared at Lauren in amazement.  Only a moment ago she was dead, and now she was standing above me.  I looked into her eyes and noticed they had an unnatural glow about them.  Realisation and sorrow dawned on me: my best friend was not truly alive after all, the spirit had possessed her.  With tears flowing in rivers with many meanders down my cheeks is asked, “what do you want spirit?  Can I not go now?”

Lauren (or rather the being inside her) smiled at me pitifully.  “Not yet child, your quest is not yet over.  You deserve to know the old prophecy…” the spirit straightened up as if something had possessed that which is already infatuated.  It spoke in a raspy voice, a chilling little rhyme:

They will face troubles deep,

Under the name of the night mare,

A great battle will come about,

Will help dare be there?

 

She with that of purest intention,

Will be helped by spirit blue,

To find them dearest of heart,

Under a moon silver new.

 

 

This story will be told,

For centuries to come,

By one who was there,

And lived to see the sun.

 

It which was banned from there,

Can only enter on one condition,

That one who was allowed within,

Had given their permission.

 

It will all take place,

In a place filled with echo,

Under the name of,

The misty meadow.

Confused I looked up, dazed.  The prophecy had been about me.  Realisation dawned on me as I discovered that by cockily yelling at the formidable beast I had accidently given my permission for its entrance.  In frustration I looked at the spirit.  “Don’t forget: I will be here,” it whispered before flying away into the gloom. 

The mist settled back into its usual position on the meadow floor.  I glanced up at the Night Mare, scared.  And I had every right to be so.  For in its hands were two long shining blades with carved handles.  It grinned evilly at me with its long, sharp, white teeth.  I shuddered and then internally scolded myself for showing weakness.

Out of nowhere one of the knives flew at me, skimming my forehead before a blue hand reached out and grabbed it.  I muttered my thanks before sprinting to the left to avoid another blade.  They seemed to be appearing out of thin air.  Fortunately I managed to dodge most attacks however the cut on my forehead bled down my face.

At the rate we were going we were all defence and we had no hope of defeating it.  Sneakily I saw one of the knives lying in the grass, not yet disappeared.  I dropped to the ground choking and juddering.  I fell in front of the knife with a pained expression on my face.  The night mare smiled gleefully.  He had believed me.  With my right hand I locked my fingers around the hilt of the stiletto.  As quick as I could I jumped to my feet and without thinking hurled the knife at the Night mare.

We caught eye contact and I was mesmerised at how beautiful its crimson eyes were.  After a moment the lights went out in them.  Its dead body lay limp and lifeless; Obscured by the mist from my vision only certain limbs were in my sight.  I am a killer.

 

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