Monday, Jun. 17, 2002 - 7:51 p.m.

Welcome, to this, a new entry.

As you might've noticed I seem to put more words into the boring non-creative part of my entries, recently anyway. You'll have to live with that, because. Heh. My reasoning is good, no?

Honestly, whatever my inspiration for all those sick, sick little tales of loneliness and death(loneliness and death, perhaps?) back in the past was, has gone. I still write this... stuff, because I have to. Can't let my creativity rot totally, can I?

No, you're right, it has done. But I can still write, like this! I have a writing style, and I'm not afraid to use it!!

Or something less enthusiastic, most probably.

Or a short story, one with a purpose, and it has to be very short, too. It's easier that way, I like easy.

So yes... Gimme a minute to think up an idea. A tale of the macabre, obviously, about... hmmm...

I know! I'll be lazy and copy up/rewrite a story I wrote when I was 12!!

Yay for lack of creative effort!!

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A Boring Horror Story

Sid was hurrying through the Helldoor woods. He walked through the twisted elm trees. Sid saw a beast in one of the twisted trees. Its red eyes glowed and it growled. Then it disappeared.

Sid knew he shouldn't be there that late. It was at that time the door to Hell opens. Those red eyes appeared in front of him and he heard a chittering sound. He turned and ran. He caught his foot on a tangled root and fell. The door was making the same throbbing noise as when he found the sacrificial stone and loads of blood and bodies. His dogs didn't go hungry that night. A creature looked down on his fallen body. It heard the throbbing, it's ears pricked up, and it jumped away. Another creature picked up Sid. Lightning flashed and Sid screamed in horror. The creature had three eyes, teeth growing out of its cheeks, and blood dripping from its mouth. It took him to the door, and threw him inside.

Inside the door it was like a normal house. Sid didn't look around too carefully. He walked to the window. Rotting bodies were tapping on the glass. Sid screamed as a disemboweled corpse knocked the door down. The small house was slowly closing in. Sid picked up an axe which was by the fire and brutally decapitated a zombie. It was too late. The zombies broke inside and tore him limb from limb. His limbless body wriggled about until he coughed, stared at the blood pouring from his ragged stumps, and died.

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All original, that, my old writing style, and my old grammatical errors.

I hadn't seen the Evil Dead when I wrote that either.

Don't ask about the title, there was a point in it probably, but I can't remember.