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28. Aug, 2015

Hello everyone! Here is my next story called "The Mirror"! By the way, thank you so much for all your lovely comments you left on my first story "Penalty". Hope you enjoy this story! Comment below and tell me what you think!

THE MIRROR

The petrifying lull of the colossal trees swaying precariously, plunging heavily against each other, awakened Death from his horrifying nightmare, antagonizing him in a petrifying way. His eyes were fiery torches, glaring at the world in a horrendous way that alarmed the creatures everywhere: dogs, cats, horses, elephants; all those delightful creatures, fear leaping through their hearts as they turned back to flee, hooves and paws pounding, never ever to be seen again. A loud BANG echoed through the air. Only then did Death raise his heart high, a sword clamped at his waist. He whispered in a hushed way, "Revenge, revenge is all I need!  He paused before continuing, "So, so it shall be done!" Only then did he throw a small, delicate mirror into the stormy skies as the trees murmured their forgiveness.

 

"Alas, enough is enough!" he cried fearfully, intercepting the mirror in his right palm. His impenetrable face, where skin should have been, was the blackness of nothing. Absolutely nothing. Death was like a sky without stars. A cloak whirled around his ankles, the black velvet irritating him dreadfully. The cloak reached past his feet, nothing but blackness could be seen beyond that as lifted one shivering shaking fist, his heart felt so crushed, a tear peeked out at the corner of his eye. He wiped it away quickly. Death looked at his inky jet-black hands however instead of weeping yet another tear, he cleared his throat.

"Call forth the angels!" he bellowed. "And call them now!"

 

A placid sound of pattering filled Death, from his head to the tip of his toes, with the most lyrical noises possible: love, dreams, friendship and generosity. This was what Death could not bear, his chest thumping in agony, hearing those irksome angels chant on about appealing cupids, flowers and hearts. The only acceptable detail was that they were all completely devoted to Death, therefore carrying out every command he gave them however some turned out to be truly horrid. Out of the blue, the angels appeared, gently forcing smiles onto their celestial and ethereal faces. Sapphire eyes, glossy lips and plain white dresses were identical on every angel so the only element that separated them apart was their wings. Some wings were glistening like glitter, polished all over; meanwhile others were bedraggled and torn, sticking out in odd angles and highly unpolished. Death's amber eyes locked onto their mesmerizing sapphire ones, glittering ever so slightly.

 

As the angels stared back at him, he could see them trying to beam against his silent frown. "What is it, we must do?" they asked at the same time. Death replied solemnly. "First, my friends, you must go to that nauseating place, where those lamentable mortals live. Find a man and do take his weapon but do not take his heart but do not pinch his heart. Keep him with you at all times, making sure he cannot possibly escape. Then, let him lead you to all those other ungainly mortals." Death stopped to glance at the angels, eyes peering at their faces to make sure they were listening. He continued. "Kill those mortals, making sure the man watches the blood-curdling scene. You do now what to do next?" Death flashed a rotting, yellow grin. "Well of course you do! Kill the petrified man as well! My angels, for if you fail me now; I will dispose of you in the most disdainful manner possible. Act like the innocent flower but be the serpent under it."

 

The angels dipped their heads despondently, however tears started to form in the corner of their eyes, making their eyes look glassier than ever. One angel stepped forward and started to speak in a pure voice. "Death, we will do anything for you. This request will be fulfilled." The angel's bony wings twitched as she stepped back. "Thank you Melissa." Death nodded curtly. "Now all of you shoo! Shoo you annoying flies!" The angels hurried off as Death brought the mirror up to his face that was of course still in his palm.

"Such a pretty item..." he muttered. “I should never underestimate the power of this mirror for it can be like the devil himself." As Death gazed down at the mirror, his thoughts started to accumulate. "I have a proposal." he thought. "A proposal that will intimidate the devil himself." Then Death started to laugh and laugh and laugh.

 

Suddenly Death’s started to communicate with the mirror. His words were unrecognisable but on command, the mirror seemed to show a faded image that seemed to be mobile. If you observed it intensely then you would be able to contemplate an image of all the angels striding forward, surrounding a man. The man was in a very precarious situation. Behind him stood an angel who went by the name Amber. Amber held a sword, pressurizing to stab it into the man’s back if he either stopped moving or tried to sprint away. The man had obviously felt the sword before when trying to escape from Amber because he winced when he felt the blade rub his back. Death could smell the man’s fear, feel the man’s pain, it was like being scorched.

“Why won’t you let me go?” the man moaned. “Who are you?”

“Where are the other humans?” Amber asked, urging him.

 

 

“No! No, I shall never tell you beasts! Are you monsters from Hell? What do you really want? Are you here to kill me?” the man argued.

“Show us where the other humans are and we shall free you.” Amber lied.

The man was finally convinced. Death watched as he recklessly led the angels to their chosen destination. When they arrived Death saw millions of people. He realized many of his loyal angels were turning back including Melissa (who was his most loyal angel). Death was raging in anger as the angels tried to fly or run. Quickly, he solved this. He moved his hands around the mirror, the effortless movements causing some boulders nearby to sway neatly into the angels who were neither trustworthy nor dependable. A sickening crunch filled the air with misery. It was horrifying for the people from the city to watch.

“I did say that if they didn’t obey me, they’d have a detrimental fate.” He smirked knowingly.

 

Death continued to stare furiously at the image in the mirror. He watched as the angels tore the humans apart like rag dolls. When one angel refused to kill a person, Death managed to kill the angel in the most sickening way: rolling a boulder on their head, shooting them with a gun, and firing a cannon directly at that particular angel and sometimes even making a figure appear from nowhere to chop an angel into tiny meaty chunks. He heard the battle cries from the humans as they tried to win against the angels but they had no chance at all. It was clear the angels were going to win. As the angels fought, Amber held her gaze on the man as he squirmed nervously; Amber holding a knife up to his throat. The man had no other choice but watch the repellent scene going on his city. So the man cried because it hurt him so much: being apprehended by angels therefore watching his city and people ignite to ashes.

 

Blood splattered the streets of the city but one more person had to still be killed. The man had to be killed. Quickly Amber struck the man in the stomach; he leaned over in pain, his life ending quickly as Amber delivered the fatal blow to his neck that chopped off his head. Death felt his angels returning to him, their faces caked in dry blood. He howled with laughter, smiling at his angels.

“You have done it again.” He simpered. “You have done it again.”

Death wanted to call himself the murderer however he realized he could not. He was not completely sure who the murderer was. As the angels walked, faces masked in pain mixed with determination, he realized who the real murderer was. Amber walked up to Death, sword held high in her hand. “You’re not the murderer, Death.” She looked at him pitifully. “I am.”

That was the last thing Death saw and heard as a sword plunged straight into his hostile, icy heart.

25. Aug, 2015

 

 Hello everyone! Today I will be posting another passion from Green olive. Read on to hear what Green olive has to say about her passion.

 

"My passion is drawing. I like drawing because it can express who you are and the people that look at it can interpret it in different ways. It can also express your emotions or how your feeling." -Green olive

 

However Green olive also sent a picture that she drew! Attached, here is a picture of a minion drawn by Green olive! Enjoy! Hope you like it!

I think it is insanely cute! I just love this picture! Maybe you can send some more pictures of minions in, Green olive?

 

Inkydreamer

Xxx

23. Aug, 2015

I will be posting another story soon but I would like your opinion for the one after that. Thx, Inkydreamer, Xxx

23. Aug, 2015

Hi everybody! I am going to post a two passions which were left as a message in the Inky Dreams Guestbook by kitty. Enjoy! 

Kitty's Passion

"My passion is ice skating and music. I feel as if my life revolves around these two, as if these are what keep me going through all the anger, grief, whatever. They' re what I can rely on. With ice skating, I can express my emotions with motion until they become
the most simple emotions, anger, happiness & sadness. with music i feel like I am truly free. It takes me to another planet where my mind blissfully travels the ups and downs of whatever emotion the song is expressing."

 

Thank you so much for your passion kitty! If anyone else would like to send me their passion then please email your passion to: inkydreamerblog@gmail.com or leave your message in the Inky Dreams Guestbook. 

 

Also thanks so much to everyone else who has commented, liked, sent me their passion or left a message in the guestbook because without you my blog wouldn't be what it is now. Some of your comments on the passion page are really thoughtful and kind so thank you very much for that.

Keep commenting, liking and sending me your passions!

Inkydreamer

Xxx

 

20. Aug, 2015

Hello everyone!

After some careful thinking, I decided to share one of my passions with you. Well, its writing. Since it is writing then I can actually share it with you on this page because I'm going to include one of my stories in this post. First, let me make this clear, nobody, nobody at all has a right to copy my story onto their blogs or anywhere else. Well, that's all I have to say so get ready for my story.

The short story is called 'Penalty'. I hope you like it! Please comment below and tell me what you think. Also send me YOUR passions and I shall post each and every one of them. Enjoy!

 

PENALTY

 

The sky was mapped with enticing, twinkling stars with erupted with a beacon of appetite, pleading; just pleading for my soul, my heart, my life. I could sniff out the delicate, imposing aroma that floated gently around me while I felt an ethereal, gentle breeze brushing against my neck. The ground seemed to be beckoning me, the glimmering stars urging me to fall back, fall like the wind as it gently slowed down. Tasting the sweet air that was in fumes around me, I prepared to fall back onto of pure green grass. I waved to the world one last time… No! I would not die, I would stay alive, I will, I will, I will!

Is there really such a place as Heaven? Mother tells me of Hell, the place where you must suffer excruciating pain as those evil, ominous devils rip your head from your body. I find this fact so spine- chilling that I shiver every time Mother dares to threaten me with it.

“You are an unadorned twelve year old girl. You have no right to stay in this world neither does your soul!” she tends to scream this at me, she is the screaming wind that howls against my window every night. She is the wind that patters on the rooftops, slowly sneaking past just like a thief but deadly with one blood- curdling stare.

Really, I have nothing left in this world to love, to adore, nobody at all to embrace. My head is ablaze with grief, flames licking through my hair. Eternal longing for my father is like an epiphany, a sudden realization, a crack from a rope as Father’s execution is finished. Why? Oh, why? Why am I the mistreated child, nothing but a crumb of bread? For it is bread, my father did steal. I can still remember the fragrant smell of that French baguette; smothered in jam, brought home by my father. We all feasted: my father and I and of course my mother too. After all, her nature was more affectionate then.

She did love me so much but now she is a drunken beast. However much I try to hate her, I cannot. I cannot! I cannot hate her at all! I love that deadly creature but woe alas she does not love me! Perhaps it will be a matter of time before we too are caught because she remains a fugitive, someone who hides away from their fears. As for me, I am like her faithful dog, a petrified creature that chases after her, proceeding to every need. I am insignificant. A piece of rubble cornering a shoe. One that remains unimportant, a squalid rat.

I, the squalid rat watched with horror as a gleaming, pure white rope (the kind that is very thick with a long plait) orbited round my father’s neck. My head stills hears and remembers his desperate cries. “Jane, my Jane! I cannot bear you grieving me so please carry on, forget! Forget about me though my love for you lives on but your love for me shall not! Please, please, ple-!”

Then the sickening twist of the rope tightened around his neck and with a deafening crack it was all over. His penalty was over. His punishment was over. His life, lastly was over.

To thus very day, I still feel inadequate with pain and grief. It is like a bullet pounding from far away, a heavy metal grunt as it shoots. At me, just at me. I have lived my life however I do not want it to be eternal, I want it to be short. A short end shall be put to me. A death sentence. My determined yet terrified face hides no emotions as I hold up a dagger dripping with a dead squirrel’s blood. It is the blade that puts life itself in a see saw. Whoever goes up wins. Whoever goes down loses therefore suffering the consequences. Life is a bowl of cherries. When such bowl is empty, no more shall come. My mind id not imposing, it is not extraordinary. I stab the knife straight into my heart, the tip of the blade holding much blood, oh so so so much blood.

“Father?” I call out however already feel my soul sucking itself free, it is emanating as I say goodbye. Only then do I realize the truth. There is no Heaven. There is just hell, more hell and hell again.