For an added affect, turn the lights off while reading!
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Three sailors stayed at a cabin by the sea. One brought his girlfriend, the other brought his daughter. The sailor's daughter was ten, and had beautiful sapphire colored eyes that the other sailor's wife couldn't help but remark on constantly. At the time, the girl had fallen ill, and had not even the slightest idea what it was.
In the cabin, the woman was upstairs, writing her little poems that were little known but beloved by those who read them. The girl was in the corner of the lower floor, watching the sailors gulp down kegs and kegs of beer. She clutched her stomach, the seething pain that had been there for almost a week now still refusing to leave and building more steam by the second. She had refused to eat dinner as she was afraid she might just throw it back up. Eventually, her father heard her groans of pain and walked over.
"You alright, sweetie?"
"Nooo...Can I go upstairs with Amy?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
And she did, cautiously lifting one foot up, placing it on the step in front of her, pulled the other up behind it, stood still for a moment, then did it again.
The sailor's eyes ached at the sight of his daughter in this condition. She'd been this way since that huge fire on one of his ships. Just as the whole thing was swallowed by flames, she crawled out of a loft, singed on her wrist but alright. But why it happened puzzled him. All of the people on board had been within his sights the entire time. Then one of the other sailors smelled smoke, and as if on cue, flames shot up from below in an impending roar. Why, though? He hadn't the slightest idea.
"Hey, you done already?"
The sailor turned to his crew buddies, then sat back down, uneasy. He hoped his daughter was all right. He played cards with his friends for the next couple hours.
It wasn't until the scream of Amy on the floor above that they finally stopped. "Sophie!" The daughter's name.
Fearing the worst, Sophie's father dropped his cards on the rug below and ran towards the door where the stairs were. It was locked. He attempted to knock it down, but even the strength of all three of them was no use. It didn't budge.
Then there was a scream, and a noise like someone crushing an empty water plastic water bottle. The scream turned into a gargle, then an echoing thump. Silence for a few seconds. Then there was continuous thump-thump-thump-thump, as though someone was dragging a heavy object down the stairs. Then the sound of a door creaking open and footsteps in the grass outside. Sophie's father felt a drop of something warm fall onto his head. He looked up at the ceiling. A red stain was surrounding one of the small bulbs just a couple inches above his head, and was slowly growing...
Another sailor tried the knob and oddly, found it unlocked. They opened it to find a carpet of blood trailing down the stairs and leading out the back door, which had previously been ajar.
Sophie's father ran out the door to see Sophie's silouhette carrying a large white bag with a large dark stain on it's bottom.
"Sophie!" her father called out.
Sophie turned to face him. But her eyes weren't the usual sapphire blue. They were orange. Bright, glowing orange....
Like a flame...
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Three sailors stayed at a cabin by the sea. One brought his girlfriend, the other brought his daughter. The sailor's daughter was ten, and had beautiful sapphire colored eyes that the other sailor's wife couldn't help but remark on constantly. At the time, the girl had fallen ill, and had not even the slightest idea what it was.
In the cabin, the woman was upstairs, writing her little poems that were little known but beloved by those who read them. The girl was in the corner of the lower floor, watching the sailors gulp down kegs and kegs of beer. She clutched her stomach, the seething pain that had been there for almost a week now still refusing to leave and building more steam by the second. She had refused to eat dinner as she was afraid she might just throw it back up. Eventually, her father heard her groans of pain and walked over.
"You alright, sweetie?"
"Nooo...Can I go upstairs with Amy?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
And she did, cautiously lifting one foot up, placing it on the step in front of her, pulled the other up behind it, stood still for a moment, then did it again.
The sailor's eyes ached at the sight of his daughter in this condition. She'd been this way since that huge fire on one of his ships. Just as the whole thing was swallowed by flames, she crawled out of a loft, singed on her wrist but alright. But why it happened puzzled him. All of the people on board had been within his sights the entire time. Then one of the other sailors smelled smoke, and as if on cue, flames shot up from below in an impending roar. Why, though? He hadn't the slightest idea.
"Hey, you done already?"
The sailor turned to his crew buddies, then sat back down, uneasy. He hoped his daughter was all right. He played cards with his friends for the next couple hours.
It wasn't until the scream of Amy on the floor above that they finally stopped. "Sophie!" The daughter's name.
Fearing the worst, Sophie's father dropped his cards on the rug below and ran towards the door where the stairs were. It was locked. He attempted to knock it down, but even the strength of all three of them was no use. It didn't budge.
Then there was a scream, and a noise like someone crushing an empty water plastic water bottle. The scream turned into a gargle, then an echoing thump. Silence for a few seconds. Then there was continuous thump-thump-thump-thump, as though someone was dragging a heavy object down the stairs. Then the sound of a door creaking open and footsteps in the grass outside. Sophie's father felt a drop of something warm fall onto his head. He looked up at the ceiling. A red stain was surrounding one of the small bulbs just a couple inches above his head, and was slowly growing...
Another sailor tried the knob and oddly, found it unlocked. They opened it to find a carpet of blood trailing down the stairs and leading out the back door, which had previously been ajar.
Sophie's father ran out the door to see Sophie's silouhette carrying a large white bag with a large dark stain on it's bottom.
"Sophie!" her father called out.
Sophie turned to face him. But her eyes weren't the usual sapphire blue. They were orange. Bright, glowing orange....
Like a flame...
