Short Story : Chapter 1

No screaming, no whispering; only the scraping of metal against glass. I looked around the room. No one seemed bothered by the disturbance that occurred only seconds before.

Hinton, an amiable tobacco planter in Virginia, inspected the mill infrequently and trusted him to make an honest trade. There was no way to forecast when loggers would arrive, depending on the weather and the wind and water currents so Matthew remained available year-round. He was tall, burley with bushy, red hair, and freckles that almost connected into a solidly tan face. People never forgot him because his freckles were such an assortment of colors, red, brown, tan, beige, pink, auburn, rust, black, and orange. He entertained visitors with stories of animals and men fighting themselves and each other along with spine-tingling stories about ghosts and Indians that intimidated the settlers. If they were true, it did not matter.

Lifty huffed, snuffing his cough back into his throat as he chucked Petunia into his bedroom.

“Come here.” She motioned for him to move closer. Once he stood before her, she dipped her finger under the elastic of his boxer’s waistband and gave a tug. “Let’s see how sexy you are when you come.”

I sit at the kitchen table going over the eviction papers. But we have done nothing wrong I think in my head. My husband John paces beside me furrowing his brow. “I just don't understand. Why us? Why would they come after us?!” exclaims John.

“This is it,” Theron said, leaning against the holotable. Everything had been powered down and packed up. All that was left was to pile onto their ships and go their separate ways. Theron had a shuttle standing by, a simple, one-manned vessel to deliver him to his mother’s command ship.

“...call this meeting to order?” A deep, masculine voice spoke. Triven wasn’t quite sure who it belonged to. He hadn’t heard it before.

It banged against the wall causing Desmond to become distracted and look over. As he was unfocused for just that split second, Conner ran and turned off the button that said GRAVITY IN CONTROL ROOM. Quickly, he pushed Desmond into the room and the siblings rushed out, locking the door behind them. As they ran to the basement to rescue Isaac and the other colonists, they could hear Desmond screaming with pain as he floated up to the very top of the extremely high ceiling in the control room with no way of

Lightning flared and thunder rumbled through the skies of Brogontis. Luke paid no attention to the looming storm. He sat alone at his rightful place at the throne, his eyes distant as he mourned the loss of Dooly, his mentor, master, but more than that, his friend.

From the moment George rolled up in the car next to him, John knew that this night wasn’t going to end well for him.

It moved readily allowing him to survey the horrors within. Furniture was knocked over, lamps destroyed, couches torn. He continued walking.

He opens his eyes to an unfamiliar view—there is a blue-toned light hitting against the shadowed ebony metal siding. He hits his head from the van driving over a bump, "Ow..." he gently rubs the affected area.

Someone flashed a light down the other end of the dark hall. Two open doors caked in dust showed in its shaft of light. Beyond the doors, the hall ended in a solid wall. The men shut off the lights. A second later, the air shimmered, and the ghost materialized next to us.

The Chase family packed up and was out the door like a ticking time bomb. They didn't have that much time till word spread if someone had peered in the building.

We got into the cabin that we would stay at for a week, and the name of the cabin was Brown Jug. When we first walk in there were no doors, just curtains hanging from the hinges of the doorways for doors.