Story cover for Fables from the creepy book in the attic by BloodyPainter2017
Fables from the creepy book in the attic
  • Reads 16
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 1
  • Time <5 mins
  • Reads 16
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 1
  • Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Jun 12, 2015
It's spring time, and you know what that means. It's time to do some spring cleaning. First stop, the attic. Might as well, right? This idea turns out to be a fatal idea. Inside a box labeled "grandpa's war stuff", you find an... Interesting book. It's cover is a dark purple. On the metal corner protectors you see what looks like... Human teeth. And in the very middle of the cover, there is a metal charm that looks like a three headed dog. The strange bookmark appears to be marking the first story. You reach down into the box. At this time, you realize there is a lock on it. You pick the old book up. It feels scaly in your hands. You gently feel the strange, rusty lock. "Ouch!", you whisper as the sharp edge slices you finger open. You drop the book. A drop of blood drips down into the keyhole. The book unlocks. You stare at it for a moment while sucking on your wound. You slowly pick the book up, and open to the first story...
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"She's my mate!" Zane yelled causing both the man and I to widen our eyes. Mate? Is Zane Australian? "No. That's not possible. She's-" Zane cut him off with a blow to the jaw. "Get out before I throw you out of the pack." I took a step back from the boys and shifted uncomfortably. "Pack? Look I don't know what kind of cult thing you guys are involved with but I just want to go back to my old life." The man laughed. "Babe, your old life doesn't exist anymore." "Don't call her that," Zane growled and pushed him out the door. I walked over to the couch and sat down, holding my head in my hands. "Hey," Zane sat next to me and put his hand on my shoulder, sending bolts of electricity through my body. I quickly stood up and looked at Zane. "What was that?" Zane smiled and shrugged. • • • Devina Stavros, believe it or not, never hated her life. She didn't despise the name calling and occasional pushes and shoves. She didn't mind the constant absence of her mother or the fact that the only living being who cared for her was her goldfish, Mr. Freddles. She learned to accept her life. She knew the things people at school and her mother pounded into her head were true. She was just a little nerd. But after a mysterious animal attack at her high school, everything changes and nothing makes sense anymore. The things she's read about in childhood fairy tales and seen on television are all true. Werewolves. Vampires. Witches. Everything.
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"She's my mate!" Zane yelled causing both the man and I to widen our eyes. Mate? Is Zane Australian? "No. That's not possible. She's-" Zane cut him off with a blow to the jaw. "Get out before I throw you out of the pack." I took a step back from the boys and shifted uncomfortably. "Pack? Look I don't know what kind of cult thing you guys are involved with but I just want to go back to my old life." The man laughed. "Babe, your old life doesn't exist anymore." "Don't call her that," Zane growled and pushed him out the door. I walked over to the couch and sat down, holding my head in my hands. "Hey," Zane sat next to me and put his hand on my shoulder, sending bolts of electricity through my body. I quickly stood up and looked at Zane. "What was that?" Zane smiled and shrugged. • • • Devina Stavros, believe it or not, never hated her life. She didn't despise the name calling and occasional pushes and shoves. She didn't mind the constant absence of her mother or the fact that the only living being who cared for her was her goldfish, Mr. Freddles. She learned to accept her life. She knew the things people at school and her mother pounded into her head were true. She was just a little nerd. But after a mysterious animal attack at her high school, everything changes and nothing makes sense anymore. The things she's read about in childhood fairy tales and seen on television are all true. Werewolves. Vampires. Witches. Everything.