The Night - Original Writing

“Well wouldn’t you look at someone weirdly if you had just saved someone from a demon?” he cleverly tossed back at me.

Rion calmed from his night terror easily, and he and Percival went back to sleep. When morning arrived, Rion shot out of bed with a grin, full of his typical energy. He had no memory of his tears and screaming the previous night, which was just as well; the boy deserved peace after all the heartache he had weathered.

"Oh?" I responded after a drawn out silence hoping that he mistook my blatant staring for something else. The smirk he sent my way however said he knew exactly what I was

She turned around for a second and stared at the paper on the table before she turned the chair around and began writing.

“This poor young man has entered your presence without your consent, my lord.” Said the taller of the two guards. The man approaches to a point where he becomes slightly visible out of my peripherals. I instantly realise who it is and turn around to

walked to the door. he opened it and cold air rushed to his face with a cloud of fog, Kade saw the bodies and

I assured myself that I didn't look too startled, and I meagerly resumed observing him through the corner of my right eye. His right boot’s tip of the toe was firmly placed on the bottom center of the thinly constructed door, and his knees were slightly bent. He lifted that same foot up and off, and swung it behind him. In a timespan of a blink, a loud crack sang out and a precise blow to the glass shattered it into a shape of a perfectly round circle. I gasped meekly as thousands of shivers shot up my spine. The rest of the door shattered within itself, similarily like dominoes. The man “stealthily” (he acted as if I couldn't see him, even if he didn't even try to hide the fact that he broke in, but I knew for a fact that we were aware of each other) trudged a few steps in, about two yards away from me. I could feel the adrenaline begin rapidly pumping as he slowly made his way over to

He arrived at a house, an average-sized home with a dark brown door. He lightly knocked on the dark brown door and patiently waited. He pretended not to notice, that he saw a shadow peak through the living room curtains before closing them shut again. And when the door opened, he was greeted by exactly who he had wanted to see.

He had stood up and lurched towards the entryway and slammed the entryway with his clench hands. As he slammed the door unendingly, he could see the body at the same spot where he had first seen it. It was standing unadroitly as though it was hung by the neck with a rope. At that point it gave a dormant jerk.

Dark shadows lurked in the crisp, still air, along with a faint smell of death in the chilling silence of the night. He gingerly approached the door, walking up a flight of stairs as he did so. The stairs were made of stone, stone that was cracked with age and overgrown with weeds of neglect. With his hand on the door, he pushed. Only fast enough to move it an inch at a time. The door, the heavy door, was only made of the finest oak, scarred with age and decades of abuse. Finally, it was open. He glanced over towards the window, where a ghostly figure stood. It turned slowly to reveal its ghastly

He didn’t quite know what it was, but something drew him to a room at the end of one of the various corridors. He approached it cautiously, feeling an eerie sense overcome him as he got closer to the door. As he reached for the handle, he heard a voice call for him.

Deliberately, I stepped my way up the stairway to the entrance. There was no door, only a vast hole where someone had once stood. I carefully placed my fingers on the door frame when I felt a tingling

The door opened slowly creaking with every inch it covered, on the other side was a brightly lit room, blinding for the first couple of seconds. “What is your wish?” A breathy voice asks slightly muffled by the distance.

The curtains of her room were a soft pink, also matching her rug. She also had a book-case, but unlike mine, it was new and sturdy. The significant difference between our rooms was a desk. Atop her desk there were stacks and stacks of papers. I creeped to the surface. Her drawings were quite morbid for such a sweet girl.

A buzzer went off and the door slowly slid open. The room beyond it was a disaster; a sea of papers flooded the desks, tools were misplaced all around the room. John peared into the room and snickered.On the other side of the room a metal door remained cracked open with a shimmer of light escaping through.He traversed his way through the mess to the door. He opened it to see a frail man lying on a bed of papers fast asleep.