Blackheart: A Short Story

“The Black Cat” and “The Tell-Tale Heart” are both written by a famous American writer named Edgar Allan Poe. In these stories, he writes as a nameless narrator that at first seems calm, but really, has an issue with something to the point where he has to kill it. In both of these stories, he does ending up killing someone or something, which would make it seem like it's the same story, but they have some similarities but a lot of differences which I will explain in the following paragraphs.

We all know Blackbeard He is one of the most well now pirates.(Buckley)It all started on the coast of England in 1680.(Buckley)Where lots of boys got jobs at a very young age.(Buckley)

I was sitting on the porch, unwillingly playing with my 3 year old sister, Winnie May, when disaster struck. The year was 1931. I was 8 years old when the 1st wave of blackness swallowed our house. At first, I thought it was a wild fire, we had been having a drought after all, but this, This was just as bad as a wild fire. I later learned this was a deadly dust storm.ath

It was a good day on spooner street and eter was enjoying his day with his wife and kids. All was well in the griffin home. No one would expect what would come next. Beter was as happy as can be sitting on his couch doing nothing.

Today, we have a track meet! At the track meet when I finished most of my events, I went to the concession stand. At the concession stand they had a new type of Gatorade called Black Hound. The new Gatorade was a gross green color, almost with a mixture of brown and gold. I decided I would try this drink. The drink was a waste of two dollars because it was horrible. Black Hound tasted like a dirty, moldy sock they might have used as a washcloth. The drink made my stomach turn inside out. A few minutes later I had to go to long jump. On my first jump, while I was in the air, I was twisting and turning. I landed with a forced slam against the ground. Everything went pitch black immediately. I had absolutely no feeling what so ever in any part

Tigerheart crashed through the gorse, stopping when he saw Hollyleaf. "Let me help!" he said, shoving his nose under Hollyleaf's shoulder, and together, we began to carry Hollyleaf to ThunderClan camp. As we approached ThunderClan camp I heard Dovewing call for Leafpool and Jayfeather. As we came through the entrance, Dovewing ran to meet us. "Ivypool, are you hurt?" she asked, but I was in too much shock to answer at first. Firestar ran past Dovewing, taking Hollyleaf off my shoulders. When Dovewing asked what had happened again I managed to tell her that Hollyleaf saved my life. I could tell that Dovewing was worried that I had almost died, but she didn't say anything, she just pressed against me and turned me towards ThunderClan camp. When Poppyfrost asked me if I had seen Molepaw or Cherrypaw, I just murmured that they could be anywhere. When it seemed that Hollyleaf was going to die I yowled at Jayfeather and Leafpool, "You have to save her! Hawkfrost tried to kill me, but Hollyleaf chased him away." I saw Brambleclaw's eyes darken. "Hawkfrost? He did this?" I felt terrible. "I was fighting Snowtuft and Thistleclaw. I couldn't help her," I

Poe wrote, “You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing,” which seems to perfectly describe the short stories The Tell-Tale Heart and The Black Cat. The murderer in The Tell-Tale Heart is the more insane personality of the two stories. While the two are similar in their motives and relationship with the victims, they differ in their intentions and in the way they are discovered as killers.

The man thought he killed him, as Brazen lied on the ground bloodied. After a blackout, he woke up, touching the back of his head. The early morning had gotten brighter, and he heard policeman on their way, to the scene. Brazen committed vehicular manslaughter, wondering if there were any witnesses. He got off the ground in a daze, as he used his hand as leverage crawling back into his cab. He pulled off, knowing the woman he saved was long gone. Had she stuck around wouldn't have made sense.

In the picture, he departs from this earth like an arrow. Although he has not chosen his fate, he appears to have, in his last instants of life, embraced it. If he were not falling, he might very well be flying. He appears relaxed, hurtling through the air. He appears comfortable in the grip of unimaginable motion. He does not appear intimidated by gravity's divine suction or by what awaits him. His arms are by his side, only slightly outriggered. His left leg is bent at the knee, almost casually. His white shirt, or jacket, or frock, is billowing free of his black pants. His black high-tops are still on his feet. In all the other pictures, the people who did what he did—who jumped—appear to be struggling against horrific discrepancies of scale.

I captured this adult great black wasp as it was landing on a rattlesnake master flower. Perhaps, it was in the process of getting nectar from the flower but as I walked closer and snapped the picture it flew away. The entire color of the insect is black, and its wings as Frisch (1938) said are dark with bluish or violet reflection. It is a hymenoptera so the insect underwent complete metamorphosis. The larvae form and the adult form do not share the same source of diet. The adult food is usually nectar or pollen, and the larvae food is commonly katydid hence that is why their other common name is also Katydid Hunter (Coin, 2004). The larvae of the great black wasp wait for their meal of katydid when the adult brings to their nest. The adults

Look, as of two days ago I didn’t even know that this camp existed, two days ago I thought my Dad was a dead beat musician who got my Mom pregnant at one of his gigs. I hope there is a limit of how many times someone could be wrong. I had to be hitting mine soon right? Well now I was finally here….Camp Half-Blood and after about two days of travel time from my home in Malibu I was finally here. It was a beautiful piece of land. The kind that probably would be developed on if this camp wasn’t here.

It was a dark and foggy night Dan and Matt were walking down a road called Death Road. It is called Death Road because on the left side is a graveyard. Dan said “Hey Matt, let's go in the graveyard”. But Matt replied “There's no way i'm going in that graveyard”.Dan replied “Why,are you chicken”?”I’m not chicken” Matt said. They both walked into the graveyard.”Hey Matt people say that Blackbeard was buried in this graveyard”.”Matt I see his grave right over here”.”If you stand over his grave and say Blackbeard three times legend says his spirit is released”.”Well there's no way i'm going to unleash his spirit” Matt said. That gave Dan the idea that he possibly could trick Matt into saying Blackbeard three times.”What name do we not need to say

I was roaming around on the streets going to the market to get some things for supper. I saw this man lying on the side of the road. I went over to him to see if he was alright. He didn't look so good. I saw a swollen, painful lymph nodes called buboes. I tried to help but the only thing he sighed was “Black Death”. I just looked at him, like what are you talking about? He sat up and we talked about it he told me all about it. He started off talking about a bloody cough. Chest pain was the next he started to talk about. Every time he goes to stand up he hurts real bad in his chest. All of a sudden he started to lose breath and was breathing really hard. I asked if that was another sign.

I'm Godric Black I am six hundred years young I began life as a normal adolescent boy this all changed when I was ten. I would play hide and seek for hours on end with my two best friends. Edward munch and Robert Hail the three of us were inseparable, we did everything together. The villagers referred to us as the three wise monkeys. Edward Robert and I would play one game of hide and seek for hours. Edward could merge into the shadows and become near invisible. Unless you concentrated on the spot where he was. Even then you would only have been able to make out a crude outline. This granted him the nickname shadow. Robert was a master of camouflage and gave him the nickname chameleon. My nickname was lightweight I could walk anywhere and leave

V.Q. looked out the window emotionless. His body locked in a state of suspended animation.