The Great 001

It is a standard December day in 1960, in the lethargic Florida town of Fort Repose. On the stream street, Florence Wechek, the nearby Western Union broadcast administrator, stirs and watches the morning news as she makes her breakfast. Pressures between the Soviet Union and the United States are high—the Russians are propelling more Sputnik satellites, and there is an emergency in the Middle East—however as Florence leaves for work, she is more worried with her neighbor, Randy Bragg, who she suspects of keeping an eye on

Someone is in my house and they are trying to find me. Send help. He has a gun. Send help. He’s in my kitchen shooting and breaking plates. I’m scared. Send help. I’m locked in my office waiting for someone to help me. Send help. I hear knocks on my wall and gunshots. I can’t run and grab my hunting rifle from my room. Send help. I’m locked in my office. Send help. Their footsteps are coming closer. Send help. He’s shut off the light. I think it’s Sean coming for me. My computer is illuminating the room. Send help. A few months

One-thirty on a Thursday morning. I laid in bed worrying, after watching John rush to Main Street for a fire call. My head spun as the pager near my head continued to dispatch calls. “Be careful on the roof Watson, I can see light through,” Feltner’s voice echoed. Ambulance sirens boomed down a four-block stretch of Main Street. My body sprung from the bed and hurried out and down the block. My face began to fill with heat. Just then another page came through, “I know idiot, I put it there.” It was John’s voice. I felt relief and began to walk back down the sidewalk to our home. I heard a young girl screaming for her dog, hysterically. Finally, back in my house, I completely forgot that I had left the two girls upstairs. Thankfully,

Lifting your head up from a nap from the cold wood-finished desk, trying to overcome the haziness from your eyes as you look at your teacher, turning your head to the right your friend is taking a colorful page of ocean-blue, rosie-cheek-pink, lime-green, purple heart majesty colored notes and you wonder why you are doing the same. You suddenly hear loud thuds coming up the metal-rusted ramp outside leading to the door. The door swings open with a powerful “swoosh” and an eerie creek from the rusted bolts follow. A gun walks in, following a middle-aged white man who has a distorted look in his eyes.

We came to a stream of light. Where was that coming from? Not ahead, but overhead. When we looked up, we saw a grating. There were only cold steel bars, unmoving bars, and not a way out. Forge on. The smell was all over us now and caused frequent gags. Carole asked, “How far do you think this tunnel goes?” I said, “I don’t know. I don’t even know where the tunnel goes. I’m hoping far enough to get under the freeway.” Carole squeaked out, “I’m scared. It’s really creepy in here.” “ I know,” offering some

Intro: Power goes out on a typical American street, shortly after a strange craft is spotted overheard. An enormous argument about who caused it ensues, shortly after a boy named Tommy tells the people that it could be aliens that look like humans. The whole street is plunged into chaos, each person suspecting another of being an alien. If it weren’t for the involvement of Tommy, a great deal of conflict and irrationality could have been avoided.

John pulled up to the rocky crooked edged driveway, he left his family in the car to check the house out. He came to an old brick mansion with green dull vines like sinister snakes along the sides of the outside wall. John saw the door open automatically, his bones were rattling in his body as if they were shouting to each other. He walked up the stairs that lead in the house as they screamed to him, it was like a girl dyeing painfully. He stepped in the house cautiously. A laugh appeared in the hallway. It was a deep laugh as if it was echoing throughout your ears. Footsteps came towards him slowly. They were moving so quickly you could barely here the floorboards creaking. The sound of the footsteps hauling though the house made john scared.

I’m just at the lab right now. Did you get those fingerprints sent to me yet?” I questioned, since I thought that’d be why he was calling almost right after I left. “Nicholas come on, open the door, I know you’re in there. I can hear you. Nice try trying to get a break. Nik? Nik are you still there? Ni-” After a few seconds of stunned silence I cut him off. “Rob. I am at the lab. I’m not in my apartment. Rob, is there someone else there? All of my research is in there!” I said quickly as I started running down the street back in the direction of my apartment building, the bag with the blood stained gloves and shoe covers still in it, filling with air as I ran and trailing behind me. I heard Rob yell over the phone, “Break it down!” then I heard a loud series of crashes. Well, there goes my door. Hopefully not along with my belongings. As I kept running I heard a series of shouts and crashes from my phone. I couldn’t make out what anyone was saying since my phone was in my right hand, swinging back and forth as my arms pumped in time with my legs. I don’t think I’ve ran this fast since that time I tried to join my high school track

Liam woke up late one night to his phone ringing. Groaning he turned on the lamp and grabbed his phone from the night stand. Who was calling him at this ungodly hour? Liam shielded his eyes from the light. After a couple of seconds Liam’s eyes finally adjusted to the brightness.

“ Jack, grab my bag and on the count of three we will punch him and run, got it?” I whispered.

I turn on my siren and book it to outer Chicago. The sun sets on the horizon and the suns light turns the buildings of Chicago orange like a painters canvass. I make it to the factory and grab my pistol and walk to the large abandoned Factory. I kick open a small door and the side and aim my pistol ahead of me seeing darkness. I grab my flashlight and aim in into the darkness.

You hear the cannon go off, and you’re preparing yourself for the loud speakers to announce the body count of another night. Your head is throbbing and another one of your comrades is gone. But you were here; you were alive. You hear rustling nearby, and you duck out of view, praying to yourself that you’d wake up from this nightmare soon. You had no plans to see another familiar face just left to fester on muddy trails — and so you escaped with no direction in mind — just anywhere to get you away from a possible confrontation. Your world was dyed red the moment you were eligible for these “games”. This was how the government controlled their people — by instilling fear within them — very much like in the two works of literature known as

Dust flew, and there was a six foot hole in the wall. There was a man to my surprise, it looked like agent McHaven. But just as I was about to call to him my eyes drew weary—I felt faint. I fell to the ground with a thud. The next thing I knew was that I woke up in a white bed looking straight into the dark brown eyes of agent McHaven.

The bell rang and we all squirmed out of Mrs. Clifford’s room. Everyone with the same waning, goad. Just before we pressed through the iron guard we all hear a scream. A voice so high pitched it sent a shrill through every one of us and echoed down the pale halls. Right, then we knew we were about to have our ID cards handed to us. We drop them in the thermoset polymer pale with the sound of a marble pendulum. Out we go hands on fire, heads melting and sit under an azure, impalpable extremity. The shade from the tree froze us as it blocked out the sun. The whistle blew and we all strutted along the side of the blacktop. Just as we get to the edge we become a herd of gazelles running from a pack of hungry lions. The first

Looking up at the grey night sky, John Jhonerston grimly pondered about existence as he shuffled down barren boulevard. With the acknowledgement of being constantly monitored by the secret police, John awkwardly put one foot in front the other; the small trip to the grocery store starting to feel like eternity. Ever since the new totalitarian government had been established after the civil war, ever since the loss of John’s family, life has been a living hell. A pointless, monotonous, depressing, existence. A pain that John has had to endure for countless years.