Essay on Creative Story: Lycanthrope

of the college recruiting and decided to attend an alternative choice close to home. Later we

Tyler was tired. He didn’t exactly remember why, and he didn’t want to try to, either because it would take too much energy. He could have been doing homework, or he could have been playing video games. He didn’t really care. He said goodnight to Jake, his dog. Surprisingly, he didn’t fall asleep instantaneously. It was like his body didn’t want him to sleep.

One day, I woke up to find myself staring at a dark, dreary, and wet cave ceiling. "Ugh, Cira, how did you get here...." I said to myself. A drop of water fell straight onto my face, so I decided to get out of this cave. Cold and wet, I tried to find my way home, but my silky dress kept getting caught on pointy rocks. "Stupid rocks," I murmured under my breath. As I finally got my dress unstuck, I heard a loud scream. "Oh no...." I thought. "Not Liberty again..." Liberty Sword was a mad scientist. She was my best friend until I accidentally turned the potion she was working on into a cat. She screamed and yelled at me and said she had been working on it for nearly two years. Liberty told me to get out and to never come near her again and we were sworn enemies and blah, blah, blah. Now she liked to experiment on other people and monsters.

Ever wondered what happens to brothers when they fight till they leave the house, it’s not a straight away thing but takes little events in their life to turn them against each other, this is one type of event.

Stepping out onto her small porch Laurel placed her hands her hands at her hips, head turning from side to side, to gaze at the city. Everything looked so peaceful, it was hard to believe that sooner or later everything would change, war was on the horizon whether they like it or not. She muttered out a sigh as she reached her hand up to rub at her forehead. She blinked a few times when she caught sight of Cain. “Here goes nothing.” She mumbled to herself as she walked down the small steps. She met Cain at the gates, a slight smile played at her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep everything in check. I won’t allow anyone to blow anything up.” She stated with a slight nod of her head. Her right hand fell to rest atop her gun, “Make sure you don’t kill anyone else Cain. If we want to win this war we are going to need the numbers.” She muttered out in a soft voice, a hint of announce could be heard.

“Olive, there’s been an incident.” Maryzallia walked over and put her hand on Olive’s arm.

A moron named Jack lived with his half moron mother in a rusty devastated shack on a rotten farm growing only thorns. All they had that was considered a luxury was their skinny cattle that produced very little milk. As soon as the cattle stopped producing milk, the mother wanted Jack to go sell it.

“It…it is kind of like a year…that would be the best definition.” Why did I just explain it to her? What is wrong with me? Jade freezes. The first exchange between their people. Not a simple ‘question-answer’ conversation, but an actual exchange of knowledge. She is the very first to discover something about him and his people from him, willingly. He taught me a word. Jade soon smiles wide and then nods to him.

Lord Fox laughed as he hugged the child close. 'Have you thought about any names for him, Aunt Eliza?'

Once upon a time, long ago, there was a boy named Jack. He lived with his mother on an old farm and was extremely poor.

I don’t know how I will get back to the hotel. I’m biking with Danny to go explore downtown. Me, Danny, and my mom and dad all headed to Los Angeles for a basketball tournament. Danny is my best friend that I’ve know since we were babys.My mom and dad didn’t like the idea of exploring but what's the worst that could happen...Right? We came upon an old abandoned car garage.

Snow fell quietly in the evening sky the only thing breaking that calm was the heavy foot falls of a man, a man who was running out of time.

He was riddled with pain had never felt before as his mother carried his limp burning body through the double doors after the nurse. His body was on fire, his stomach was being twisted in knots. He was breathing, but it was shallow and noisy. Sweat beaded from his forehead, drenching him as his pajamas stuck to his body. He felt himself being placed roughly onto a firm surface, he could smell fresh sheets and disinfectant. An unknown man asked, “How long?” another more familiar one said, “A few days, but in the last two hours… oh my god, he just passed out and started shaking.” He couldn’t understand. Another voice, female, spouted a string of what sounded like gibberish, and suddenly something being wrapped around his left arm and his clothes were being cut away. “Oh no, not my pjs, mums going to kill you.” He thought to himself. His chest bare, a cold object was pressed against it in different places in turn. His head was violently jerked backward and his jaw pushed forward. It hurt. He tried to lift his arms to push them away but there was no hope. His mouth fell open as he was dragged upwards. A soft object was shoved under his back so that his head lulled backward. A metal object was thrust into his mouth and a tube passed over it into his airways. He so badly wanted to gag on it. “What the hell are they doing? I can’t breathe!” he thought of saying but for some reason he no longer had the ability to speak.

Alexander Baker was the first to disappear. He went missing on the first Monday of the month. Mrs. Henry found him dead five days later. She had been taking her daily walk on the beach when she found Alexander's body skimming the surface of the choppy water. He was perfectly intact and the coroner could find no cause of death. But how does a perfectly healthy seventeen-year-old boy just die? The confusing thing about this whole situation? No one knows how it happens. The only clues the police could find were minuscule and pointless, each victim was found with different clothes and small lighter. On November 22, Lydia Bower went missing. Her body was found a few days later, floating in the ocean. Her parents had already bought a casket, fit for her size. This was the third murder in one month. Our town was cursed. And there was nothing we could do about it. Tuesday, November 30, 1982- Morning I sat down on the edge of the earthy cliff, letting my feet dangle above the ocean. This is where their lives had ended. Three teenagers, full of dreams and aspirations- reduced to a lifeless body, bobbing in the ocean like a buoy. I concentrated on the waves for hours. Riley Henderson went missing three days ago. Her parents had already ordered a casket. The police in this small town had given up ages ago, and no one cared enough to come investigate murders in a town with the population of five-hundred and two. At this rate, no one knew what the future held. After a few hours of just

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the hospital, not a baby was crying, not even...Nick. Tonight was the night that Santa was born. He had a twin brother named Kris, and they were born 3 minutes apart!