One of the stories I wrote before I gave it up..... - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

heather99 · 07-09-2004, 01:30 PM

Would like to know if you think I should write any more? And if you'd like to see any of the others?

One Step Beyond -

Hi. Hi. I?m Sinister, Sinister the spider. I don?t really know why I?m talking to a lower being like yourself, but, heh, I have to while away the time between meals somehow, don?t I? It?s funny you know most people, humans that is, can?t hear us. Every now and then though one comes along, like your good self, who can. Of course, generally they go mad. I expect you will too. You understand now why you creatures are terrified of us. It?s not a primeval fear at all, is it? No, it?s our ability to project ourselves. You realised when you found you could always tell when one of us was in your room even though you couldn?t see him or her. We can be an eight foot tall looming presence, or a dark, shifting area glowering in the corner of the room. We can surround you with fur. We have eyes everywhere. It?s not ghosts in old buildings, it?s us.
Of course some of your rumours are true. We do drink from the corners of your eyes as you sleep and, yes, we do wander into the mouths of snorers. Generally it?s the youngsters who do that. They play chicken, you know. That?s how we lost my brother, Sfumato. Shame, I still miss him. But, hey, that?s life, you know. The beat goes on.
We are rather ruthless creatures. Yes, we eat our mothers. Mine told us to. One can?t disrespect ones elders, now can one? We?ll eat anyone if we?re hungry enough but we always apologise and give the food time to talk us out of it. That?s why we wrap them up in webbing solution. It?s nothing to do with digestion.
You first met Sylvester when you were nine. Oh, yes. He told us all about you, in that old cottage. The far room, you called it, down a little passageway. You used to go in there to get away from everyone, to learn to play the piano. Anyways, old Sylvie used to send those shivers down your spine: make you freezing cold as you sat on that swivelling piano stool. Your parents painted the room orange in an attempt to make you feel warm. Didn?t help though, did it? Oh, and yes. That walk-in cupboard off Matthew?s room. That was Syncretus? territory. Ah, yes. He was good.
You?re a lot like us, you know, bit of a loner, a thinker. Did you never think of eating your parents? Not even during adolescence? You were very angry I heard.
Do you know, we?ve been chatting for so long I?m beginning to get a bit peckish. Would you mind if I just climb up the sleeve of your straitjacket and eat a few of your lovely, juicy fleas? Yumm-ee. I love these mental institutions. The staff neglect them so. There?s dust everywhere. it makes marvellous building plots, don?t you know.

07-09-2004, 01:30 PM	#1 (permalink)
heather99 Upright Location: Burton-on-Trent, England	One of the stories I wrote before I gave it up..... Would like to know if you think I should write any more? And if you'd like to see any of the others? One Step Beyond - Hi. Hi. I?m Sinister, Sinister the spider. I don?t really know why I?m talking to a lower being like yourself, but, heh, I have to while away the time between meals somehow, don?t I? It?s funny you know most people, humans that is, can?t hear us. Every now and then though one comes along, like your good self, who can. Of course, generally they go mad. I expect you will too. You understand now why you creatures are terrified of us. It?s not a primeval fear at all, is it? No, it?s our ability to project ourselves. You realised when you found you could always tell when one of us was in your room even though you couldn?t see him or her. We can be an eight foot tall looming presence, or a dark, shifting area glowering in the corner of the room. We can surround you with fur. We have eyes everywhere. It?s not ghosts in old buildings, it?s us. Of course some of your rumours are true. We do drink from the corners of your eyes as you sleep and, yes, we do wander into the mouths of snorers. Generally it?s the youngsters who do that. They play chicken, you know. That?s how we lost my brother, Sfumato. Shame, I still miss him. But, hey, that?s life, you know. The beat goes on. We are rather ruthless creatures. Yes, we eat our mothers. Mine told us to. One can?t disrespect ones elders, now can one? We?ll eat anyone if we?re hungry enough but we always apologise and give the food time to talk us out of it. That?s why we wrap them up in webbing solution. It?s nothing to do with digestion. You first met Sylvester when you were nine. Oh, yes. He told us all about you, in that old cottage. The far room, you called it, down a little passageway. You used to go in there to get away from everyone, to learn to play the piano. Anyways, old Sylvie used to send those shivers down your spine: make you freezing cold as you sat on that swivelling piano stool. Your parents painted the room orange in an attempt to make you feel warm. Didn?t help though, did it? Oh, and yes. That walk-in cupboard off Matthew?s room. That was Syncretus? territory. Ah, yes. He was good. You?re a lot like us, you know, bit of a loner, a thinker. Did you never think of eating your parents? Not even during adolescence? You were very angry I heard. Do you know, we?ve been chatting for so long I?m beginning to get a bit peckish. Would you mind if I just climb up the sleeve of your straitjacket and eat a few of your lovely, juicy fleas? Yumm-ee. I love these mental institutions. The staff neglect them so. There?s dust everywhere. it makes marvellous building plots, don?t you know.