Short stories

The Banshee's Cavern

Hey dudes!! Anyways, this thing of short stories is pretty much little stories i write down during class or when i am bored so yea, they probably aren't that good but please give me some kind of feedback or something at least anyways, yes i can be a bit twisted in the brain sometimes... okay i lied most o the time :) Anyways enjoy :)

There is a screeching in the cave before me. A sound that turns my blood to ice. It is a scream full of sorrow and tears. It is as though it is weeping or mourning, what a horrible sound. I dare to venture into the cave, fully aware of the rising tide. My footsteps echo along the carved walls of the caves innards. The light is so dim that I can barely see what is before me. At the end of the tunnel, there is nothing but a blocked wall. It is now too dark for me to see but I can just make out the tiny little tunnel in the side of the wall. The sound is coming from in there. Dare I venture on to find what lies in this tunnel. The sound of the weeping makes me shiver and stumble on something hard and pointy. There is little light in the tunnel. Just enough for me to see a woman dressed in a white flowing dress, speckles of blood stained on the sleeves. The lady is standing over a bucket full of water holding a bloodied cloth. She turns to me, her eyes red from crying, and her cheeks sunken in as though she was having her life sucked out of her body. Her long black hair swings in front of her face. She lets out a long sorrowful howl as she shoves her hands and the bloodied cloth back into the bucket and she begins to scrub, harder than I have seen anyone scrub before. I watch as one of her nails break off, splattering her dress with more tiny speckles of blood.

She pulls the bloodied cloth out of the water and holds it up for me to see. My shirt!?! She is holding my shirt. Mt shirt is bloody and torn from all her scrubbing and the blood that has poured from her hands. I can hear the water rushing through into the cave. She lets out a long scream and scrubs harder and harder at the blood. The banshee tries in vain to get the blood out of my shirt but all her efforts have gone to waste. The sea water fills my lungs as I struggle to bring my head out of the gushing water. The banshee disappears as though she were never there. My eyes close and then it dawns on me, what I had stumbled on when I walked into the tunnel, was a bone of other poor helpless people that have fallen victim to the sea's power. I lay there in the water, forever floating in the memory of the gushing sea.