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Yeah, I know this is the 3rd story I've created, but I get lots of good ideas everyday and I need to write them down! I want to be an author (and a teacher so I have a stable career) when I grow up so I really value good feedback. None of that "Hate it." or "Great story" stuff. I appreciate that, but I what I like the most is real constructive criticism.
Aberrant to my usual tactic of starting with a teaser trailer, I'm just going to start!
Feedback is golden, dudes!
![[Image: eminemsignew.png]](https://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l505/spartandranzer/eminemsignew.png)
"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\
Aberrant to my usual tactic of starting with a teaser trailer, I'm just going to start!
Monsterology (Click to View)
Chapter 1-December 24th, (Click to View)
Alright, so here's the deal. What would you say if you were walking along the road, being normal, relaxing, when suddenly you met a real live monster, straight out of your fiction books? You'd probably just laugh, like I did, and walk away, creating lame excuses like 'My eyes were playing tricks on me,' or 'what a lame joke,' maybe even the patented 'I must be seeing things.' Unfortunately for me the laws of reality didn't really apply to my life, and I was planted into a scarring yet amazing situation.
It was saturday morning. As usual, the loudspeaker in the hallway played a loud jingle that signaled 'get up, orphans! It's time for breakfast!'. Bleary eyed, I sat up in the cramped bunk bed (bottom bunk-blech), rubbing my sore back in hopes of repairing the damage of the metal bed springs. My bunk mate for this week slid down the ladder, almost hitting my throbbing head in the process, with much enthusiasm and ran over to our shared cabinet of clothes. I looked up at him as he grabbed a pair of hand-me-down jeans and a dirty t-shirt. Where does he get his energy from? As a fifteen year old teenager like me, shouldn't he be tired in the morning? Reluctantly, I got out of bed, grabbed some dark jeans and an ugly black under armor t-shirt, and slid into them. I looked at the calendar date. December the 24th, huh? I grabbed my head. Christmas eve, the day before we orphans got dirty, rusty handed down toys. Oh well, at least I didn't have classes today. Tailing my much more ecstatic bunk mate, I opened the door and went to the cafeteria.
At my breakfast table, people were talking and shouting about the date. "I can't wait to see what I get!" one exclaimed. "I hope this year we get some real toys!" Another said. Rubbing my forehead, I slammed a fork full of soggy, undercooked pancake into my mouth. The temperature was freezing today, below zero, so I made sure to bundle up nice and tight. Too bad the cafeteria didn't serve hot chocolate. This orphanage really doesn't get much funding, does it?
The rest of the day went pretty much the same way. People shouting and raving about christmas, and me complaining the entire way. We had lunch, relax period, open house period (still no visitors for me...), dinner, and before I knew it, it was curfew. More happily than I had been all day, I pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and settled as comfortably into bed as possible. I sighed, and, waiting for my bunk mate to climb up on top, I shut the light.
It was saturday morning. As usual, the loudspeaker in the hallway played a loud jingle that signaled 'get up, orphans! It's time for breakfast!'. Bleary eyed, I sat up in the cramped bunk bed (bottom bunk-blech), rubbing my sore back in hopes of repairing the damage of the metal bed springs. My bunk mate for this week slid down the ladder, almost hitting my throbbing head in the process, with much enthusiasm and ran over to our shared cabinet of clothes. I looked up at him as he grabbed a pair of hand-me-down jeans and a dirty t-shirt. Where does he get his energy from? As a fifteen year old teenager like me, shouldn't he be tired in the morning? Reluctantly, I got out of bed, grabbed some dark jeans and an ugly black under armor t-shirt, and slid into them. I looked at the calendar date. December the 24th, huh? I grabbed my head. Christmas eve, the day before we orphans got dirty, rusty handed down toys. Oh well, at least I didn't have classes today. Tailing my much more ecstatic bunk mate, I opened the door and went to the cafeteria.
At my breakfast table, people were talking and shouting about the date. "I can't wait to see what I get!" one exclaimed. "I hope this year we get some real toys!" Another said. Rubbing my forehead, I slammed a fork full of soggy, undercooked pancake into my mouth. The temperature was freezing today, below zero, so I made sure to bundle up nice and tight. Too bad the cafeteria didn't serve hot chocolate. This orphanage really doesn't get much funding, does it?
The rest of the day went pretty much the same way. People shouting and raving about christmas, and me complaining the entire way. We had lunch, relax period, open house period (still no visitors for me...), dinner, and before I knew it, it was curfew. More happily than I had been all day, I pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and settled as comfortably into bed as possible. I sighed, and, waiting for my bunk mate to climb up on top, I shut the light.
Chapter 2-December 25th, (Click to View)
"Wake up, Ethan!" I heard someone shout. I pulled the covers over my head. "No waayy....toooo tireed..." I was in a state of half sleep, where I could hear and respond to the outside world but still rest. Fine, whatever, I just wanted to be left alone. "I'm telling you to wake up!" The voice shouted again. This time, it was accompanied by christmas music, laughter, the smell of pine trees, and a pair of hands shaking me back and fourth. "Nooo," I moaned, trying to aimlessly swat my enemy away. "Jus lemme sleep summore....." Instead, thee person shook me harder. "It's Christmas morning! WAKE UP!" Suddenly, I was awake. I jolted upright in bed, opened my eyes, and hit my head on the top bunk. "Ow!" I exclaimed, rubbing the goose egg forming on top of my head. I looked around the room. All of the kids in our room were on the floor and opening presents addressed to them. Some got rusty, old toys while others got new, hip presents. The orphanage had no real way of choosing which kid gets what. They just sloppily wrap random presents and address them to kids. Some you got multiple presents, and sometimes you got nothing. I sighed. It really didn't matter, because for me, christmas was just another day on the calendar. I looked at my ecstatic bunk mate who had woken me up. His face was beaming, and in his hand was a present...for me? I looked into his smiling eyes. "Hey, David" I said to my bunk mate. "Did you get that for me?" He shook his head. "This is yours! From santa!" He held it out. "It's the only present for you." I reluctantly got out of bed and grabbed the present. Still very tired, I nodded a silent 'thanks,' and opened it.
A book?
Yes, my present this year was a book. Not like it mattered to me, but I figured I would at least get a candy bar or something. I wiped the dust off of it and read the title. "Monsterology?" I asked out loud. Everyone in the room came over to look at my peculiar present. The book was in poor condition, the stitched bindings falling apart. The cover was an emerald green, with fake rubies imprinted in the a circle. The subtitle read 'Thou that peruse thy book shall discover that it is like no other. Look deep into thine self and bring the pages to life!' I squinted at the bottom, where one more small line was written in fine print. 'Just believe, and set these monstours free.' Though my education was poor at best, I could tell the writer spelled monstour wrong. Why? Just then, a room mate nudged me. "Hey!" He said. "Open it! Open the book!" For some strange reason, I was actually...exited, an emotion that I haven't felt since my parents left me here. A faint glimmer shining in my eyes, I opened to the first page.
A book?
Yes, my present this year was a book. Not like it mattered to me, but I figured I would at least get a candy bar or something. I wiped the dust off of it and read the title. "Monsterology?" I asked out loud. Everyone in the room came over to look at my peculiar present. The book was in poor condition, the stitched bindings falling apart. The cover was an emerald green, with fake rubies imprinted in the a circle. The subtitle read 'Thou that peruse thy book shall discover that it is like no other. Look deep into thine self and bring the pages to life!' I squinted at the bottom, where one more small line was written in fine print. 'Just believe, and set these monstours free.' Though my education was poor at best, I could tell the writer spelled monstour wrong. Why? Just then, a room mate nudged me. "Hey!" He said. "Open it! Open the book!" For some strange reason, I was actually...exited, an emotion that I haven't felt since my parents left me here. A faint glimmer shining in my eyes, I opened to the first page.
Chapter 3-December 25th, (Click to View)
"Behemoth[Image: Unknown.jpg]This beast is usually around 100 feet tall. It is usually brown or black, and uses its' tusks as weapons. It is carnivorous, and favors bitter foods like humans, jungle cats, etc. It enjoys drinking big lakes. Males usually way around 2 tons, while females way a little more than 1 ton."
I gaped at the large, detailed picture on the first page. It was so...big! I sighed. Thank god these things didn't exist. Looking around at all of the shocked faces, I closed the book. Everyone looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to comment on what we had just witnessed. I tucked the book under my arm, and, instead of saying anything, I walked away.
The look on Davids bright face...I would never forget it. It was full of longing, like he wanted those things to exist. His gleaming eyes soaking up the picture. He didn't really believe those things could exist, did he? Suddenly, I remembered reading something on the cover page. What was it? 'Just believe, and set these monstours free.' What did it mean?...
No! Impossible, I must be losing it. I chuckled to myself and settled on my bed, the others going back to their own presents. That thing couldn't come to life! Absurd! What a childish thought! Though...as much as I tried to reassure myself, something nagged at the back of my mind. Why?
That night, as the other orphans settled into bed, I lay awake, looking at the rough, wooden bunk above my head. My mind was buzzing with so many questions that I couldn't sleep. This book...why did I care so much about it? The ugly yellow walls of the room seemed to mock me. "Haha!" They laughed. "You're going insane, thinking a book could come to life!" "DAMN!" I shouted out loud, waking up everyone in the room. I couldn't take it anymore! I was going to discard this book, and get out of my head! It was annoying, like a bad case of acne, and I wanted to be rid of it! I snatched the book from under my bed and snuck out of the room.
I made it outside, completely unseen and undetected by the adults. Good, that would clear suspicion from the orphans. Quietly, I grabbed a shovel out of the garden box and headed out into the woods. I was going to bury this thing! Bury it in the woods and in my head! I was sick of it, and I-
THUMP!!!!!!!
Something shook the earth, throwing me off my feet and causing the book to fly out of my hands.
THUMP!!!!!!
Again! I banged my head on a tree ("Not again!" I moaned) and was slow to get up.
THUMP!!!!!
I was shoved onto the ground once more.
Then, suddenly it stopped. Dizzy, I staggered over to the book and the shovel. What was that?
NO! It couldn't be! That page, David....I looked up, shivering. And there, standing not 50 yards from where I watched, a Behemoth, just like in the book, roared a terrible roar, sending a shiver down my spine like no other. Big as a mountain, it towered over me, its' red eyes glowing with hatred.
I screamed.
I gaped at the large, detailed picture on the first page. It was so...big! I sighed. Thank god these things didn't exist. Looking around at all of the shocked faces, I closed the book. Everyone looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to comment on what we had just witnessed. I tucked the book under my arm, and, instead of saying anything, I walked away.
The look on Davids bright face...I would never forget it. It was full of longing, like he wanted those things to exist. His gleaming eyes soaking up the picture. He didn't really believe those things could exist, did he? Suddenly, I remembered reading something on the cover page. What was it? 'Just believe, and set these monstours free.' What did it mean?...
No! Impossible, I must be losing it. I chuckled to myself and settled on my bed, the others going back to their own presents. That thing couldn't come to life! Absurd! What a childish thought! Though...as much as I tried to reassure myself, something nagged at the back of my mind. Why?
That night, as the other orphans settled into bed, I lay awake, looking at the rough, wooden bunk above my head. My mind was buzzing with so many questions that I couldn't sleep. This book...why did I care so much about it? The ugly yellow walls of the room seemed to mock me. "Haha!" They laughed. "You're going insane, thinking a book could come to life!" "DAMN!" I shouted out loud, waking up everyone in the room. I couldn't take it anymore! I was going to discard this book, and get out of my head! It was annoying, like a bad case of acne, and I wanted to be rid of it! I snatched the book from under my bed and snuck out of the room.
I made it outside, completely unseen and undetected by the adults. Good, that would clear suspicion from the orphans. Quietly, I grabbed a shovel out of the garden box and headed out into the woods. I was going to bury this thing! Bury it in the woods and in my head! I was sick of it, and I-
THUMP!!!!!!!
Something shook the earth, throwing me off my feet and causing the book to fly out of my hands.
THUMP!!!!!!
Again! I banged my head on a tree ("Not again!" I moaned) and was slow to get up.
THUMP!!!!!
I was shoved onto the ground once more.
Then, suddenly it stopped. Dizzy, I staggered over to the book and the shovel. What was that?
NO! It couldn't be! That page, David....I looked up, shivering. And there, standing not 50 yards from where I watched, a Behemoth, just like in the book, roared a terrible roar, sending a shiver down my spine like no other. Big as a mountain, it towered over me, its' red eyes glowing with hatred.
I screamed.
Feedback is golden, dudes!
"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\
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thank you otthelog for sig and ga hoo leone and quetz and king cephues for my sigs i will alteratte them every week![[Image: new2.png?name=keryel&friendcode=1764-200...kemon6=330]](https://www.pokestadium.com/pokemon/trainercard/new2.png?name=keryel&friendcode=1764-2002-7495&trainer=1&badge=3&pokemon1=612&pokemon2=635&pokemon3=373&pokemon4=149&pokemon5=445&pokemon6=330)
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....but thank you!