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  1. #16
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Barry, you've made me pull out the most scariest story ever told to mankind" "I, Dylan am the master" chucked Dylan

    He never paid much attention to the neighbors living on his city block until the day the pretty middle-aged widow moved in two doors down from him. She was plump and dark with sparkling eyes, and she always wore dark gloves on her hands, even indoors.

    He went out of his way to meet her, and they often "bumped" into each other in the street and stood talking. One day, as she brushed the hair back from her forehead, he caught a glimpse of gold under the glove on her right arm. When he asked her about it, she grinned coquettishly and told him that she had lost one hand a few years back and now wore a golden hand in its place. In that moment, a terrible lust woke in his heart - not to possess the lady herself, but to possess the solid gold hand that she wore under her long black gloves.

    He courted the widow with every stratagem known to him; flowers, trips to the theater, gifts, compliments. And he won her heart. Within a month, they were standing in front of a minister, promising to love one another until death parted them. Within another month, he was a widower and had buried his ailing wife in the local cemetery - without her golden hand. It had been so easy. A slow poison, administered daily to resemble a wasting disease. No one - not his wife, not the family doctor, not their neighbors - suspected murder. And the night after the funeral, he slept with the golden hand under his pillow.

    It was a dark night. Clouds covered the moon, and the wind was whistling down the chimney and rattling the shutters of the town house. He was deeply asleep when the door to his room slammed open with a loud bang and a wild wind whipped around the room, scattering papers and books and clothing and table coverings every which way. He sat up, startled by the sudden noise, and his pulse began to pound when he saw a greenish-white light bobbing slowly into the room. Before his eyes, the light slowly grew larger, taking on the shape of his dead wife. She was missing one arm. "Where is my golden hand?" she moaned, her dark eyes blazing with red fire. "Give me my golden hand!"

    He tried to speak, but his mouth was so dry with fear that he could only make soft gasping noises. The glowing phantom moved closer to him, her once-lovely face twisted into a hideous green mask. "You stole my life and you stole my hand. Give me back my golden hand!" the dead wife howled. The noise rose higher and higher, and the phantom pulsed with a strident green light that smote his eyes, making them water.

    He cowered back against his pillows, and the hard shape of the golden hand pressed against his back. And then he felt the golden hand twitch underneath him as the mangled green phantom that had been his wife swooped down upon him, pressing his face against the pillow in a suffocating green cloud. He tried to scream, but it was cut off suddenly by a terrible pressure against his throat, cutting off his breath. The world went black.

    The next morning, when the housemaid came into the room with her master's morning cup of tea, she found him lying dead on the floor, with the golden hand clutched around his throat.

  2. #17
    Aqua Teen Avoidance Plan MC Karkat's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Good one, 'The Golden hand', now this is REALLY the last one- I'm telling a story that came from the perspective of someone else..." Barry explained.

    'My stepmother was vile. I guess most kids think that when their father remarries. But in this case, it was true. She only married Father because he was rich, and she hated children. There were three of us – me (Marie), my middle brother Richard and my youngest brother Charles. We were the price my stepmother Gerta paid for being rich. And we were all that stood between her and inheriting Father's money when he died. So she took steps against us.

    She sent my youngest brother Charles away to boarding school overseas. It had a good, scholarly reputation, but it also had the reputation for being a hard school that was full of bullies and strict discipline. Not a place where a delicate child like Charles, who had been sickly as a baby, would thrive. He was miserable there. Somehow, Gerta contrived to keep him there for all but the summer holidays, and when he came home the first year he was pale and thin with dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises. He cried – he actually cried! – when Father told him he had to go back to the school. But Father didn’t listen to him. Gerta thought it would be good for Charles to go there, and so Charles went.

    I did everything I could – encouraging letters and daily phone calls – until Gerta said it was too expensive and restricted calls to five minutes once a month. I even got Father to book me a ticket to Europe so I could visit Charles. Gerta was enraged when she found out. Her blue eyes went so cold it made chills run up my spine, and her pink mouth thinned into a bitter line that bade ill for me since I had dared to interfere. Two days before my plane left for Europe, the school called and told us that Charles had climbed up to the tallest tower and flung himself off. He was dead.

    Father was shocked, of course, and Gerta was quietly triumphant. For a few months, Father paid more attention to Richard and myself then he had since our mother died. But Gerta was beautiful and had winning ways about her that soon drew my Father’s attention away. And now that one of her hated step-children was dead, she focused on another. Poor Richard was next.

    Richard was a sturdy chap who was about to enter high school, and he was really into sports. He would have thrived at the boarding school that had killed Charles. So Gerta sent him to an arts school instead. He hated it, but Gerta had told Father he had “talent”, so there he went. (You’d think my Father would have learned his lesson with Charles!) But Richard was a survivor, and he grimly practiced piano and violin when he would rather have played soccer and football. But Gerta was clever. She introduced Richard to a couple of high school boys who were everything Richard craved to be – rich, popular, on the football team. And into drugs. Gerta made sure Richard had a very large allowance, and kept increasing it as Richard was drawn deeper and deeper under the influence. Until one day Richard overdosed, and Gerta only had one step-child left. Me.

    I was sure (sure!) that Gerta knew Richard was doing drugs in his room that day. She knew he was ill and possibly dying in there. If she’d “found” him even ten minutes sooner, his life would have been saved. So said the doctor, and I believed him. But Father wouldn’t believe me. He was angry whenever I said anything against Gerta, and told me to hold my tongue. Still, I knew I was next, and I was sure that Father would not live long after willing his fortune over to his wife. I decided that if Gerta got too bad, I would run away and live secretly with my aunt in New Jersey until I turned 18.

    From the moment Richard’s body was found in his room, I forced myself to be a model child. My homework was done on time, I was polite to Gerta and all her friends, I went on all the family excursions with Gerta and Father – even the dangerous ones like shark-fishing. You can be sure that I took care to be “sea-sick” indoors and stayed away from the edge of the boat. Gerta was clever with her tricks. Everyone thought it was an accident the time we were out shopping and I fell onto the subway in front of an oncoming train. I managed to roll out of the way on time, but it was way too close for comfort.

    I had almost decided to run away when my father brought me the sad news that my aunt in New Jersey had died suddenly in her sleep, poisoned by person or persons unknown. I was appalled. How had Gerta known? But she had – I could tell from the smirk on her face.

    I went to my room that night and locked myself in to think. I could run away, but the money wouldn’t last long. And I’d need to finish high school or my chances of getting a good job were nil. Besides, Gerta would still be out there somewhere. If she could hire someone to poison my only living relative (besides Father), she could hire someone to kill me, whether I was living at home or not.

    There was only one thing I could think of. And it was a terrible thing. A family secret passed down from my Mother’s side for many generations. It involved a witch named Bloody Mary, who had once tried to kill my many times great grandmother and use the child’s blood to make herself young and beautiful forever. The witch had been stopped by the child's father (my many times great grandfather) in the nick of time, and the witch had cursed him as she burned at the stake. Cursed his mirror, and the mirrors of all the men who had condemned her to death at the stake, so that anyone saying her name in front of those mirrors would invoke her vengeful spirit.

    The story had gotten mixed up over the years, as it was passed down first in their village and then all over the country. These days, school kids everywhere scared themselves silly chanting Bloody Mary’s name in front of darkened mirrors during sleepover parties, and nothing happened to them. So no one really believed in the curse. Of course, no one knew the real story of Bloody Mary. That was a deep secret handed down by the villagers of long ago. But I was a direct descendant, and I knew how to summon the witch. You had to use a mirror owned by someone in the direct blood-line of one of the original families that lived in Bloody Mary’s village. And the witch's name must be spoken by candlelight a certain number of times in their native tongue.

    It was an evil thing to do, I knew. But it was the only way to save my life. It was either Gerta or me. If I didn’t fight back, I was dead. So I took my hard earned money and went out to a specialty store to buy hand-dipped, beeswax candles. Black ones. I followed my mother’s directions carefully, placing them at certain intervals around the living room so that they reflected in the huge mirror behind the couch. Then I lit each one, speaking the spell passed down in my mother’s family. And I waited. Father was away on a business trip, and Gerta was out at a party with her latest boyfriend. She came home late, and scolded me for staying up to study. Her voice was playful and light – I hated that voice. It made her sound like she was nice. But there was also a note of suspicion underlying her words, and she stared hard at the flickering black candles.

    “Holding a séance, little Marie?” she asked, emphasizing the word little, knowing I hated when she called me that.

    “I just like working by candlelight,” I said mendaciously, turning a page in my text book.

    Gerta frowned. “You know, little Marie, I think it’s time we had a talk,” she said, walking over to the mirror behind the couch and primping her hair.

    “Yes,” I said softly. “We should. You killed my brothers. And my aunt. But I won’t let you kill me.”

    Gerta laughed. “As if you stood a chance against me!” she said, fluffing her long blond hair up behind her shoulders.

    I spoke the name of Bloody Mary in the native tongue of my ancestors. Once. Twice. Three times. Inside the mirror, the image of Gerta burst into flames, and another face looked out. It was the malevolent face of a twisted old crone, ruined with age, and altogether evil. I ducked behind the chair as Gerta gave a scream of sheer terror, her eyes fixed on the witch. As I watched from my hiding place, heat burst forth from the mirror, blistering her beautiful alabaster skin. I could hear the flames roaring as the witch laughed evilly and held out her arms toward my step mother.

    “Gerta,” crooned Bloody Mary. “Come to me, Gerta.”

    And she took my step mother into her arms.

    Gerta’s terrified scream was suddenly cut off. The flames disappeared as suddenly as they had come. When I peeked out from behind the couch, Gerta and Bloody Mary were gone.

    I called Father at his hotel the next morning to tell him that Gerta hadn’t slept at home. (Well, it was true!) He wasn’t pleased. He called a few of her friends from his hotel room, and quickly discovered she had been carrying on with another man. With several, if the truth be known. Father hated infidelity. He flew home at once to confront Gerta, but she was still missing; presumed run away with one of her flames.

    Somehow, Father managed to divorce Gerta without ever trying to find her. And since she had no family in the area except us, everyone accepted the cover story, and no one ever tried to locate her. Gerta was gone for good. And Father and I were safe at last.'

    "How's that?" Barry laughed.
    'Sshh, here that? That's the sound of you being quiet... Isn't it pleasant?'

  3. #18
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Man, I am to tired to continue on, a draw" Dylan exclamed "You and I know we could have done this till the morning".

  4. #19
    Aqua Teen Avoidance Plan MC Karkat's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "That is so true, never- I mean NEVER, has anyone come so close to topping me in scary stories, so it's a draw." Barry told Dylan with a grin "Well, I'm pooped, anyone else ready to hit the hey?" Barry yawned.
    'Sshh, here that? That's the sound of you being quiet... Isn't it pleasant?'

  5. #20
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Ya,I'm tired" Yawned Dylan Grinning He says "Well,I have one more story in me"

    Polly was the sweetest, prettiest girl in Goldsboro, yes sir. All the local boys were chasing her, and quite a number of the fellows from the surrounding countryside were too. All the girls were jealous of Polly ‘cause they didn’t have no sweethearts to take them to the local dances. They all wanted Polly to choose her man so things could go back to normal. But Polly was picky. None of the local boys suited her, and neither did the fellows from the back country.
    Then one day, George Dean came home from university, and Polly was smitten. Polly completely dropped all her other beaus when George came courting, and it wasn't long before George proposed and Polly accepted.

    Polly started making preparations for the wedding and shopping for items to fill her new home. George wasn’t too interested in all the fripperies and wedding details. He left the womenfolk to get on with it and started spending time down at the pool hall with some of his buddies. And that’s where he met Helene, the owner’s saucy daughter. She had bold black eyes and ruby red lips, and a bad-girl air that fascinated George. He spent more and more time at the pool hall, and less and less time with Polly, who finally noticed in spite of all the hustle and bustle.

    Of course, Polly was furious. She immediately confronted George with the story, and he couldn’t deny it. Suddenly, George had to toe the mark. His pool-hall visits were over, and he spent every free hour he wasn’t at work by her side. That didn’t sit well with George, but his family backed Polly up, so he went along with it.

    The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. The guests filled the sanctuary, and the pastor and the best man waited patiently in the ante-chamber for the arrival of the groom. But George didn’t come. Eventually, they went searching for the missing bridegroom, and found out he'd left town with Helene an hour before the wedding. With dread, Polly’s mother went to tell her daughter what had happened. Polly, all bright and shining and lovely in her long white dress and soft wedding veil, turned pale when her mother broke the news. Then she stiffened, grabbing her left arm as a sudden pain ripped through it. She was dead from a massive heart attack long before she hit the floor.

    A few days later, Polly was buried in the churchyard, still wearing her white wedding dress and veil. The whole town came to the funeral and wept at the passing of such a beautiful young girl. George and Helene, who had spent the week happily honeymooning in the Outer Banks, arrived home at the very moment that the black-clad crowd exited the churchyard. Their arrival caused a commotion. The minister had to pull Polly’s father off George before he killed him. And both George and Helene’s family disowned the couple right there in the street in front of everyone. The couple fled town in disgrace.

    Time passed, and eventually the scandal was forgotten. Until the day George’s father passed away. It was rumored that he was to be buried in the local churchyard just a few plots away from the girl who had almost become his daughter. Suddenly, the story of Polly's jilting was revived and folks wondered aloud if George would dare attend his father's funeral. But George was too clever for them. He waited at an inn outside of town until it was dark, and then he went to the churchyard to pay his last respects to his father.

    As he unburdened himself at his father’s graveside, George heard a sweet female voice calling his name. “George. Sweetheart.” George looked up in sudden hope. Was that his mother, come to forgive him? Then he saw, rising up from a grassy mound under a spreading oak tree, a figure in a long white gown and a soft veil. Her eyes and her lips were yellow flames beneath the veil, and the rotted wedding dress glowed with a white-yellow light. It was Polly.

    George’s body stiffened, shudders of fear coursing up and down his arms and legs. He put a shaking hand to his mouth and staggered backward, the other hand outstretched out ward off the specter floating toward him. The spectral bride cackled with angry laughter and swooped forward until its hand closed over George’s outstretched one in a terrible parody of a handshake. The grip of the spectral bride was so cold it burned the skin, and so hard that the bones crunched as it squeezed. “Come along into the church, George,” the glowing bride whispered. Through the veil, George could see maggots crawling in and out of Polly’s flaming eye sockets.

    “Nooo! Polly, no!” George screamed in terror, but he could not wrench his hand free. The ghost dragged him step by halting step toward the front door of the church. His hand was a red-hot agony of pain, though the rest of his body was shaking with cold.

    “No!” George gave a final cry of despair and wrenched again at his hand. And suddenly, he was free. The spectral bride gave a roar of rage as George ran pell-mell down the church lane and out into the street.

    “You’re mine, George Dean! If not in this world, than in the next,” the spectral bride howled after him.

    By the time George reached his room, the fiery pain in his hand and arm was seeping through his entire body. He rang desperately for the house maid and begged her to send for a doctor. Then he fell into bed and stared at his hand, which was black and withered, as if it had been scorched long ago by a fire. Black and red streaks were climbing up his arm so fast he could almost see them move.

    George was unconscious when the doctor arrived, and the swelling was already extending into his chest and neck. There was nothing the physician could do. The injury was too severe and had spread too far. Within two days, George was dead. Polly had gotten her man at last.

    "This ain't for anything, but I wanted to end today in a unexpected day" "Night everyone" As Dylan laid down.

  6. #21
    Aqua Teen Avoidance Plan MC Karkat's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Hm, that was a good.. Well, time to catch some Z's." Barry chuckled as he laid down by the tree that he craved his name into.
    'Sshh, here that? That's the sound of you being quiet... Isn't it pleasant?'

  7. #22
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Goodnight Barry Goodnight everyone!" Peace!

  8. #23
    Tetsudai,Kirito~kun... Yuuki Asuna's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Haruka was listening to the stories that seemed like it will go on forever at first.'They sure told good stories tonight' Haruka thought with a smile.Then she looked up at the sky again."Well,they they both have a point;we all have to go to sleep."Haruka told everyone in a sweet voice."It's getting late..."

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  9. #24

    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Michna slept halfway through when the stories were passed down. Ironically, he dreamed of flowers and bunnies, something you would not expect after listening to a horror story in the camp.
    Well, I’ll stay close without the sleep
    My broken heart is yours to keep
    So pull out the puzzle and every piece
    While I take all the gain

  10. #25
    Serenity is key
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "What frightful tales..." Gray said quietly. She put her book back in her bag.
    Crack some heads for me, darlings. Thank you, and good night.

  11. #26
    Charizard fan since 1996 Charraze's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Sam walked over to his tent. The night seemed to have come to quickly.
    "See ya later..." He said before getting in the tent.
    He lied down on his sleeping bag and began thinking about the week. It had ended well.
    Sam's sleep was awful, some of the scary stories sent a chill through his spine just thinking about them.
    "Come on Sam.. Just get to sleep..." He murmured. His head hit his pillow and he instantly fell asleep.
    CRASH
    Sam jerked awake and walked out the tent.
    "What the actual f***?" He shouted. He looked around and noticed a tree had fallen over. He waited for people to come out of their tents. Surely that must've woke everyone up...

  12. #27
    Aqua Teen Avoidance Plan MC Karkat's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Barry jerked his head "Mzghf..." Barry muttered as he rose to his feet "Gotta use the bathroom..." Barry walked over to the fallen tree "Wha-.... What's that bright light.... OH S**T!!" Barry jumped as he noticed something- something that he's never seen before "SWEET MOTHER OF GANDHI, WHAT IS THAT!?!" Barry stumbled back onto his back and took some deep breathes "Okay, okay... Fire... It's just fire.... Just got startled..." Barry smirked as he climbed back to his feet "Um, why is the tree on fire and tipped over?" Barry glanced over towards Sam.
    'Sshh, here that? That's the sound of you being quiet... Isn't it pleasant?'

  13. #28
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Meanwhile Dylan being a heavy sleeper was still being asleep when all the commotion happened.

  14. #29
    Tetsudai,Kirito~kun... Yuuki Asuna's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    Before Haruka could even get in her tent,the tree fell down.She looked at the tree that was on fire."O-kay?the tree's on fire...so I think we should maybe put it out before the fire spreads.I mean,we are in the forest and fire would spread quickly..." she suggested calmly.

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  15. #30
    im so high rite now Totally Not Booster Gold's Avatar
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    Default Re: Mutation 101 - Start Up!

    "Huh? what happened? I think I just heard there was a fire is everyone ok? what happened? as Dylan stood. Who wants to investigate with me?

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