Warning: Has blood, murder, and ghosts. It's not THAT scary, but if Du don't like the stuff I mentioned up there then...
~~~~~
The silver moon glowed bright on the cement prison. Thin clouds dappled the indigo sky and covered the full moon. The wind howled loudly, making the rope that dangled from the now cut barred window flap wildly.
Jim smirked and twirled the messer in his hands before clenching it.
“You know I’m only doing this is because Du used to be my friend, right Jim?”
Jim closed his eyes and sighed. His friend, Frank, was his prison guard. He was the one who gave him the messer and made all this possible. Jim turned around and saw Frank’s eyes clouded with worry. Worry that he would get caught and worry that Jim would ratte him out if caught.
Hah, Jim thought smugly, Like I’m going to get caught.
“Of course, Frank,” He replied, walking up to him. Frank took a step backward before remembering that this was Jim; Jim his best friend from first grade…Jim, the one who betrayed him…But…
Frank sighed, trying to let those doubtful thoughts about his friend go away. Jim would never do anything to him.
Jim smirked once again and opened his messer quietly. “Now Du gotta promise to me that Du won’t tell a living soul about what we done.”
Frank nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”
Jim chuckled. “Good.” He quickly moved his hand up, startling Jim and stunning him. Blood oozed down to the floor. Frank’s blood. “But better safe, sicher than sorry.” He let Frank go and his body fell limp to the floor. Jim picked Frank up with effort and lugged him to his cot. Placing him up on the cot, he covered his friend up with his small blanket up over his head. Jim stepped back and checked from all angles that no other guard could tell it was Frank—not Jim.
Jim turned back to the window once he put the messer in his boot and began crawling out, hissing in anger at the cold. Why's it gotta be October? He thought bitterly, not letting the cold slacken his speed.
After several minutes, he landed on the ground safely. But the Suchen light was going, scouring the prison yard like a hawk. Jim muttered something inaudible and counted how many Sekunden it took to take the light to leave, and how many it took to come back.
Not nearly enough. But it would have to do.
Jim bolted out of the shadows, running for his life with his blood pounding heavily in his pierced ears.
Almost there, the alarm sounded, alerting all of the guards and stopping Jim in shock. He shook his head and ran again, hearing gun shots. The bullets shot after him, hitting the spot he was just at a millisecond later. While running, Jim tried his best at estimating the height of the prison gate. He would have to climb, and the metal wire had holes for him to grab and to get a grip. The only problem would be however, was the barbed wire on the top.
Jim jumped up with all his might and grabbed hold about a fourth of the way up. He began climbing, narrowly missing the bullets that still shot at him. Barking filled the air, and Jim could have sworn that one was climbing after him.
Finally he made it up to the oben, nach oben and flung himself over to the other side, getting scratched from the barbs. His sleeve got snagged on one of the barbs and he snatched it, scratching his arm in the process. He hissed in pain and began climbing down now. Now he could see all of the chaos that he made. All the guards and Hunde were scrambling around, trying to find a way to get Jim. The barking and gunshots were deafening, and Jim knew that he wouldn’t be able to get the sound out of his head for a while.
He finally made it to the ground, and took off to the forest, not knowing and caring where he was, he just wanted to get out of there—fast.
It was around dawn that he had found an old abandoned barn, the farmhouse was torn down, and the scheune being the only thing left standing. Jim didn’t care; he trudged slowly into the scheune and collapsed into a pile of moldy wet hay. He grimaced at the smell but thought nothing Mehr of it. With one last glance at all the tractors and equipment that surrounded him, he fell asleep.
In his sleep, he kicked his shoes off, not knowing where they would land, oder what danger would happen. One of his shoes landed on a lever, making it Bewegen from the weight. The lever controlled a combine that was aimed at the heu, hay Jim was sleeping in. It roared loudly, startling Jim awake. Before he could Bewegen though, he was caught in the swirling blades; he screamed, but was cut oft abruptly.
Ten years later, on the same night of October, the moon shown bright again as it did on the fateful night of Jim's death. The moon beamed shined bright on James and Katrina who were out wandering the woods.
Katrina shivered and pulled her jacke closer to her. "James, Du little...Why'd Du bring me out here? We're lost!"
"No, we're not," James snapped back over his shoulder. "C'mon, our campsite is bound to be around here somewhere..."
"Yeah, yeah..." Katrina muttered, picking her speed up to catch up with her companion.
The two stayed silent for a while, staying close to hide any fear they had in them. Von now, rain was pouring down and soaking them. Katrina glared at James through blue eyes. His green ones just clouded with worry. Then suddenly they sparked with excitement. "Kat, look! A barn! Maybe we can stay there for some shelter till the rain stops." He took off after it, leaving Katrina alone.
"James! Get back here! Don't leave me Von myself, it's creepy..." She yelled after him, chasing him through the mud and slop.
The two arrived at the scheune door in a matter of minutes. James and Katrina desperately tried to knock the door down. With their luck, the door was worn Von the weather and they walked in with ease.
Looking around, Katrina took in all the tractors and equipment, rusted from their old age. "Why would the owner leave all this?" She wondered aloud.
James shrugged. "Who knows who cares?" He sat down on a traktor seat, clearly not spooked at all Von the place.
Katrina glanced wildly around, feeling that she and James were being watched. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pale white figure standing in the shadows. She gasped and stood frigid still, too frightened to speak oder even move. She watched at the figure came out of the shadows. It was a man. She let out a sigh of relief but then soon became nervous all over again. What if he would do something to her and James for coming in the barn? Was it his?
The man smirked and walked up to her. "Scared, are ya?"
Katrina gulped, stepping away. "I-I'm sorry if w-we trespassed on your property, sir." She stammered, fear taking over her words.
The man chuckled but it seemed hollow and echoed off the walls in a dark manor. "This isn't my barn. I came here for some shelter."
"Hey, Trina, where are you?" James called for her. Katrina was relieved for him trying to find her. He emerged behind a moldy wet haystack. "There Du are, Trina. I was..." He trailed off, staring at the man that stood in front of his friend. "I-I'm sorry—"
"No need," The man cut him off. "I don't own this barn."
James walked up to Katrina and stayed near her, hoping that the man wouldn't do anything.
The man walked around them, heading toward the haystack. He hesitated before lying down in it. Katrina grimaced, knowing that the heu, hay must have been old and soggy; especially from the splatters of rain that seeped through the cracks in the roof. The man did nothing of the sort as if the wet heu, hay didn't bother him--not even the smell. He only settled down in it more, disturbing both teenagers.
They stayed silent for a few moments before the man sagte with a smirk, "Do Du believe in ghosts?"
Katrina and James glanced at each other before shaking their heads no. The man's smirk turned into a frown. "Ah, I see." He sagte darkly but sagte nothing more.
Katrina nudged James and nodded towards the door. James nodded and cleared his throat as quietly as he could. "Well, the rain looks like it slacked off. We'll be going."
As they turned to leave, the man chuckled darkly. "Oh no Du don't."
Katrina gulped. "W-what?"
"I've been alone in this here scheune for ten years. No one is leaving unless I say so." James gasped as the man stood up and approached them. "And I don't say so."
James looked around desperately for something to use. He could sense the fear emitting from Katrina in tons and he wanted to protect her. Spying a pitchfork, he lunged for it and faced the pale man. "Let us go." James commanded darkly. "Or I'll spear ya."
The man laughed. "I ain't lettin' Du two out. Never!"
James glared at the man then jabbed the pitchfork toward the man's stomach. It only went through him. The man grinned evilly at James as Katrina looked on in horror.
"R'member bout that Frage I asked ya?" He questioned. "I'm the proof."
James and Katrina screamed as they ran out of the barn, hearing the man laugh maniaclly behind them.
The man continued laughing until he had tears running down his face. He grinned at his accomplishment. He had been doing this for five years now, scaring the kids who dared come in the scheune he called home. The man slowly vanished into thin air as the moon began to be covered up Von clouds.
The penguins stared at Davy as he finished his story. Davy grinned, seeing their faces; all of them were twisted in horror, shocked Von such a tale. They stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
Finally Kowalski broke the silence. “That was a horrible story.” He crossed his flippers as Private, Vee and Davy stared at him.
“W-what do Du mean?” Private stuttered. “That was the most frightening thing I have ever heard!”
Vee nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah!”
Kowalski rolled his blue eyes. “What was the point of him scaring them? I mean seriously, just because? Shouldn’t he have wanted some type of revenge oder something? Like if they were the farmer’s kids oder even grandkids!”
Davy growled and crossed his arms. Rico picked him up and placed him on his head. “Only five,” He reminded Kowalski. The scientist shook his head and went in his lab, muttering something about how he, himself, used to come up with better stories when he was four.
Skipper cleared his throat. “Well, Davy,” He began. “I guess Du win this Jahr for the best story. Congratulations.”
Davy smiled widely at that and hoped on his mother’s head, hugging her. “Did I scare ya, Mom? Huh?”
Vee gulped and nodded. “Oh yeah…By the way, you're not watching anymore horror movies.”
"Aw man!"
Meanwhile in Kowalski’s lab, Kowalski was huddled in a ball, murmuring to himself. “It was only a story…Only a story…Ooooonlyyyy a storyyyy…”
~~~~~
The silver moon glowed bright on the cement prison. Thin clouds dappled the indigo sky and covered the full moon. The wind howled loudly, making the rope that dangled from the now cut barred window flap wildly.
Jim smirked and twirled the messer in his hands before clenching it.
“You know I’m only doing this is because Du used to be my friend, right Jim?”
Jim closed his eyes and sighed. His friend, Frank, was his prison guard. He was the one who gave him the messer and made all this possible. Jim turned around and saw Frank’s eyes clouded with worry. Worry that he would get caught and worry that Jim would ratte him out if caught.
Hah, Jim thought smugly, Like I’m going to get caught.
“Of course, Frank,” He replied, walking up to him. Frank took a step backward before remembering that this was Jim; Jim his best friend from first grade…Jim, the one who betrayed him…But…
Frank sighed, trying to let those doubtful thoughts about his friend go away. Jim would never do anything to him.
Jim smirked once again and opened his messer quietly. “Now Du gotta promise to me that Du won’t tell a living soul about what we done.”
Frank nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”
Jim chuckled. “Good.” He quickly moved his hand up, startling Jim and stunning him. Blood oozed down to the floor. Frank’s blood. “But better safe, sicher than sorry.” He let Frank go and his body fell limp to the floor. Jim picked Frank up with effort and lugged him to his cot. Placing him up on the cot, he covered his friend up with his small blanket up over his head. Jim stepped back and checked from all angles that no other guard could tell it was Frank—not Jim.
Jim turned back to the window once he put the messer in his boot and began crawling out, hissing in anger at the cold. Why's it gotta be October? He thought bitterly, not letting the cold slacken his speed.
After several minutes, he landed on the ground safely. But the Suchen light was going, scouring the prison yard like a hawk. Jim muttered something inaudible and counted how many Sekunden it took to take the light to leave, and how many it took to come back.
Not nearly enough. But it would have to do.
Jim bolted out of the shadows, running for his life with his blood pounding heavily in his pierced ears.
Almost there, the alarm sounded, alerting all of the guards and stopping Jim in shock. He shook his head and ran again, hearing gun shots. The bullets shot after him, hitting the spot he was just at a millisecond later. While running, Jim tried his best at estimating the height of the prison gate. He would have to climb, and the metal wire had holes for him to grab and to get a grip. The only problem would be however, was the barbed wire on the top.
Jim jumped up with all his might and grabbed hold about a fourth of the way up. He began climbing, narrowly missing the bullets that still shot at him. Barking filled the air, and Jim could have sworn that one was climbing after him.
Finally he made it up to the oben, nach oben and flung himself over to the other side, getting scratched from the barbs. His sleeve got snagged on one of the barbs and he snatched it, scratching his arm in the process. He hissed in pain and began climbing down now. Now he could see all of the chaos that he made. All the guards and Hunde were scrambling around, trying to find a way to get Jim. The barking and gunshots were deafening, and Jim knew that he wouldn’t be able to get the sound out of his head for a while.
He finally made it to the ground, and took off to the forest, not knowing and caring where he was, he just wanted to get out of there—fast.
It was around dawn that he had found an old abandoned barn, the farmhouse was torn down, and the scheune being the only thing left standing. Jim didn’t care; he trudged slowly into the scheune and collapsed into a pile of moldy wet hay. He grimaced at the smell but thought nothing Mehr of it. With one last glance at all the tractors and equipment that surrounded him, he fell asleep.
In his sleep, he kicked his shoes off, not knowing where they would land, oder what danger would happen. One of his shoes landed on a lever, making it Bewegen from the weight. The lever controlled a combine that was aimed at the heu, hay Jim was sleeping in. It roared loudly, startling Jim awake. Before he could Bewegen though, he was caught in the swirling blades; he screamed, but was cut oft abruptly.
Ten years later, on the same night of October, the moon shown bright again as it did on the fateful night of Jim's death. The moon beamed shined bright on James and Katrina who were out wandering the woods.
Katrina shivered and pulled her jacke closer to her. "James, Du little...Why'd Du bring me out here? We're lost!"
"No, we're not," James snapped back over his shoulder. "C'mon, our campsite is bound to be around here somewhere..."
"Yeah, yeah..." Katrina muttered, picking her speed up to catch up with her companion.
The two stayed silent for a while, staying close to hide any fear they had in them. Von now, rain was pouring down and soaking them. Katrina glared at James through blue eyes. His green ones just clouded with worry. Then suddenly they sparked with excitement. "Kat, look! A barn! Maybe we can stay there for some shelter till the rain stops." He took off after it, leaving Katrina alone.
"James! Get back here! Don't leave me Von myself, it's creepy..." She yelled after him, chasing him through the mud and slop.
The two arrived at the scheune door in a matter of minutes. James and Katrina desperately tried to knock the door down. With their luck, the door was worn Von the weather and they walked in with ease.
Looking around, Katrina took in all the tractors and equipment, rusted from their old age. "Why would the owner leave all this?" She wondered aloud.
James shrugged. "Who knows who cares?" He sat down on a traktor seat, clearly not spooked at all Von the place.
Katrina glanced wildly around, feeling that she and James were being watched. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pale white figure standing in the shadows. She gasped and stood frigid still, too frightened to speak oder even move. She watched at the figure came out of the shadows. It was a man. She let out a sigh of relief but then soon became nervous all over again. What if he would do something to her and James for coming in the barn? Was it his?
The man smirked and walked up to her. "Scared, are ya?"
Katrina gulped, stepping away. "I-I'm sorry if w-we trespassed on your property, sir." She stammered, fear taking over her words.
The man chuckled but it seemed hollow and echoed off the walls in a dark manor. "This isn't my barn. I came here for some shelter."
"Hey, Trina, where are you?" James called for her. Katrina was relieved for him trying to find her. He emerged behind a moldy wet haystack. "There Du are, Trina. I was..." He trailed off, staring at the man that stood in front of his friend. "I-I'm sorry—"
"No need," The man cut him off. "I don't own this barn."
James walked up to Katrina and stayed near her, hoping that the man wouldn't do anything.
The man walked around them, heading toward the haystack. He hesitated before lying down in it. Katrina grimaced, knowing that the heu, hay must have been old and soggy; especially from the splatters of rain that seeped through the cracks in the roof. The man did nothing of the sort as if the wet heu, hay didn't bother him--not even the smell. He only settled down in it more, disturbing both teenagers.
They stayed silent for a few moments before the man sagte with a smirk, "Do Du believe in ghosts?"
Katrina and James glanced at each other before shaking their heads no. The man's smirk turned into a frown. "Ah, I see." He sagte darkly but sagte nothing more.
Katrina nudged James and nodded towards the door. James nodded and cleared his throat as quietly as he could. "Well, the rain looks like it slacked off. We'll be going."
As they turned to leave, the man chuckled darkly. "Oh no Du don't."
Katrina gulped. "W-what?"
"I've been alone in this here scheune for ten years. No one is leaving unless I say so." James gasped as the man stood up and approached them. "And I don't say so."
James looked around desperately for something to use. He could sense the fear emitting from Katrina in tons and he wanted to protect her. Spying a pitchfork, he lunged for it and faced the pale man. "Let us go." James commanded darkly. "Or I'll spear ya."
The man laughed. "I ain't lettin' Du two out. Never!"
James glared at the man then jabbed the pitchfork toward the man's stomach. It only went through him. The man grinned evilly at James as Katrina looked on in horror.
"R'member bout that Frage I asked ya?" He questioned. "I'm the proof."
James and Katrina screamed as they ran out of the barn, hearing the man laugh maniaclly behind them.
The man continued laughing until he had tears running down his face. He grinned at his accomplishment. He had been doing this for five years now, scaring the kids who dared come in the scheune he called home. The man slowly vanished into thin air as the moon began to be covered up Von clouds.
The penguins stared at Davy as he finished his story. Davy grinned, seeing their faces; all of them were twisted in horror, shocked Von such a tale. They stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
Finally Kowalski broke the silence. “That was a horrible story.” He crossed his flippers as Private, Vee and Davy stared at him.
“W-what do Du mean?” Private stuttered. “That was the most frightening thing I have ever heard!”
Vee nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah!”
Kowalski rolled his blue eyes. “What was the point of him scaring them? I mean seriously, just because? Shouldn’t he have wanted some type of revenge oder something? Like if they were the farmer’s kids oder even grandkids!”
Davy growled and crossed his arms. Rico picked him up and placed him on his head. “Only five,” He reminded Kowalski. The scientist shook his head and went in his lab, muttering something about how he, himself, used to come up with better stories when he was four.
Skipper cleared his throat. “Well, Davy,” He began. “I guess Du win this Jahr for the best story. Congratulations.”
Davy smiled widely at that and hoped on his mother’s head, hugging her. “Did I scare ya, Mom? Huh?”
Vee gulped and nodded. “Oh yeah…By the way, you're not watching anymore horror movies.”
"Aw man!"
Meanwhile in Kowalski’s lab, Kowalski was huddled in a ball, murmuring to himself. “It was only a story…Only a story…Ooooonlyyyy a storyyyy…”
