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7-8/10 (Can't really decide)
Spelling and grammar errors. One other issue I find with your stories Kow_Lover is that your stories are jagged, they should be curved. Meaning: Things always to seem to happen suddenly, you must build to it. For instance: "All of a sudden the small minature pond swayed." - Don't use small and miniature to describe the same item, it's redundant. - Anyways, write something like: "The water receded and came forth closer. Again, the water fluctuated. The minuscule pond had oscillated furiously." This tends to build more suspense. Another side note, you should reveal the name of the girl. It's very frustrating when there is a significant character is constantly called "the girl". Perhaps give her a name with some symbolism, like in my story, the main character's name is Adam, the first human male on earth (according to Biblical history). This polishes your story. Also, find better words, more specifically, ones with better connotation. Example: Change "evil" to "nefarious" or "malevolent". Here's a checklist on how to improve:
Spelling and grammar corrections: _
Make story curved rather than jagged: _
Give a name for the girl: _
Use more connotative words: _
Other than those, you're on a good track.

Ok due to holy's advice, as you might know now its 2 more parts. Add more deatil, add more suprises, and possibly a ending leading to another story to conclude add and foretell the next plot.

PT.6 (Book 1... Maybe 2 Dont ask it will be decided on replies)


He was on the hill. It was breezy and soft like a soft whisper of blows. It was sunny, but surely enough clouds were coming in and it started dripping rain. It was a 90 degree hill he was on the bottom of it. And there he was, standing curiosly on the grass, and decided to walk up the mounty rusty hill.


He took one step. Jack was tired, wearing sneekers and had to fight the struggle of collapsing. But his determination for his brother, is what remained of him. He took another step this time but a bigger one.

When he finnally arrived on the breezy hilltop.He relaxed. All the sudden a rock hit him and he bent down to see it. Just then a colorfull blot of power passed his hair, as it skinned it. He turned around to see the evil girl. She was rigid, evil, deadly ghouly. It looked like a twisted Micheal Jackson outfit with white only.


Jack was in shock. Next second later a swarm of black/white dots formed to the right of her and they all formed together in the middle of the blots and a red circle expelled. It was getting bigger, and bigger then Sarah appeared.

Jack out of fear started running down the hill. As he turned his head 180 degrees he saw his brother bob touch Sarah. Sarah transfixed into what to be bumps moving. Forming. Then it reeceeded and she turned ugly. Just like bob's prejudced skin. She was forming halfway, when he fell over and toppled down the hill. He smashed. Circling, tumbling, dropping he went in a rage of desperation of pain to try to stop. He stopped at the bottom of the hill.


He finally regained the energy to get up. He got up and looked infront of him. It was a intersection of what looked like big toothpicks. And in the middle it was covered with a spray of blue black moving energy feel. He went inside it, and came out behind the castle. He stepped out 1 foot first, out of the toothpick object. Then he saw the evil girl. He tried to conceal himself so he went behind a tree and hid in the shadows. He saw what appeared himself. And almost instantly he realized that this was a time travel. It was created by the Great Davichi in 2032. He had to alter, inform the future. Jack #2 (not the original one, the one walking to the hill) came on the hill, panting. Jack had to change it, remembering a rock hit him. He thought a little first, finally coming up with a conclusion.

That someone from the future helped him, and now he was in the future helping someone else. He picked a rock on the floor and threw it to Jack #2. And the same thing happened like before.

Finally when Jack#2 was down the hill. Jack came out and in a thrust of speed tackled Sarah to stop the transformation. The evil girl looked around and saw Jack. Then the evil girl, came in a unbelievable speed (Like superman running fast) and touched Jack. Jack felt as if his brain was changing to. Then the transformation was complete. The evil girl took her hand off and what remained of Jack was not him. As he was transforming he saw one last video of memory. Sarah freed she kicked the evil girl and started running. Then with the hint of that Jack turned evil, not him, lifeless. Jack's inner soul was dead it wasnt him anymore, it was what evily remained of him.


This is 2nd to last saga to the story. With the results and the support and comments I will problly make another story leading to this. So please give me some comments, so I will know if its not wasting my time making these stories for you guys . Hope you had a good time reading this story, if you do then again post comments. Thanx!!!! Bye

Dude, I recently read all of the stories. All of them. And all of them are really good . Especially Kows I cant wait for the last oneeeee. Also nice to Holy and to Toa 555 also to war hammer 555 and um sorry fatal but thats one hella long story. But I like all the stories so nice job to all of you. You should all join NaNa Wrimo

I like fatal's, gj there.

Here's one I'll make as I go.

Came a loud crash from the kitchen. It was storming outside. The windows were either cold or just jittered from the wind, and the screens howled from it. She gasped and lost connection from her book. What- who could that have been?

She was home alone. Blaine was called out for an emergency at the mine. At 4:00 A.M.? The phone rang some time ago and the two were in midst of deep sleep.
"Who the hell is it?" Blaine answered the irritating call.
The conversation quickly grew tense. Blaine suddenly grew tense and began to stutter, then began swearing.
"That illegitimate child! I told him- my God! He could've killed everyone!" Blaine shouted. He quickly hung up the phone. "I'll be back. Some idiot at the mine lit a damn cigarette and that caused an explosion and now part of the mine is collapsed and some people were hurt. I might not be back, but go back to sleep, okay?"
Kathy nodded and Blaine grabbed his cellphone, put on a coat, then left. "Go back to sleep," he said. Not with the storm. Not without him.
She picked up a book. "Tales of Stormy Nights". Ironic. Leave it up to Aunt Maggie to supply random books for uncommon situations on your shelf.

"Blaine?" She called out over her shoulder, though doubting that he would return so soon, it's only been half an hour. It takes at least two full hours for a trip to the mine and back. Still she hoped. "Blaine?" She called again.
She was becoming afraid. Her senses because supersensitive. She suddenly jerked her head back and the hairs at the back of her neck saluted the air. Did someone just say yes?!
Kathy inched over to the fireplace and quickly grasped a shovel from the fireplace. Suddenly a loud repeating ring rang behind her and she quickly turned her body ready to swing at whatever this world may propose. It was Blaine's cellphone. Didn't Blaine take that with him?.
Her mind began racing. Should she pick it up? Did she want to pick it up? She remembered of a story from the book, just a few stories back from the one she was at.

A married couple had very busy lives. They'd seldomly see each other in a week, but every day, they knew they loved each other more than the day before. And they did. One night they both got off work early and he had just called her on her cellphone.
"Hello?" She answered.
"Hey honey! Listen, I got off work early today! Been working my tail off all week and it paid off. You just got off, right? Let's meet at the parking lot at Wal-Mart and we'll go eat somewhere, okay?"
She agreed excitedly and headed for Wal-Mart.
She had been waiting for about an hour. Her husband never showed up. She called his cellphone but it was out of service. She began to worry. Suddenly her phone rang.
"Hon?"
"Hey! Where are you?! I've been waiting here for an hour?"
"Where are you?! I've been circling this parking lot for an hour and I don't see your car anywhere?"
"Okay, let's both park and walk to the front door, ok?"
"Fine."
They both parked and made their way through the lifeless parking lot, to the front door.
"Well, where are you?" She demanded.
"At the front door, like you said!"
"Jerry, I don't have time for games," she accused.
"What are you talking about? I'm here, just like you suggested we do, walk to the front door of Wal-Mart."
"Are you sure you're at the right one...?"
"Of course I'm at the right one! We just bought our turkey here last week, together!"
"Hon?" She asked. "Hello? Jerry?"
No answer.
The woman went home, slightly angry that he might have just been playing a prank on her, but more overly, worried. Maybe he got lost and went to the wrong store. Wal-Mart's look a lot alike, she told herself.
She turned on the television, not that she was in the mood to watch anything. As she flipped through endless reruns, her eyes caught attention to big, red fonted letters on the news channel. She flipped it back.
"Local man's truck hit black ice and landed at the bottom of Porabula Curve, rescuers are trying to reach the man, but the firetruck park close enough to the ledge. The recent snows have been blaimed for many accidents. Many pray they this will not be the first fatal one."
She dropped the remote and sat staring blankly at the ongoing "Infotainment" on the news channel.

Kathy's mind raced for no prizes. She was afraid to answer the phone. The mine had already called him at home, she thought, why would they call him again on his cellphone without calling the house again? She allowed it ring until it stopped.
Slowly, she cat-stepped her way to the doorway of the kitchen, looking to see if anyone has opened the back door. Nobody. She then poked her head inside the kitchen, looking left and right to make sure no one was hiding.
The door rattled. Is someone there?! Or was it the wind, she thought.
Slowly walking towards the backdoor, with a shovel armed in her right hand, ready to clobber any intruder, she twisted the doornob, holding her breath. The lock automatically unlocked with a click. Barely poking her head outside, she checked about the yard. No one.
Slightly reliefed, she retrieved her arm to close the door.
A few inches from closing, a large hand reached in and buckled the door with its elbow, then pulls the door open. Two large figures of men stood outside in the dark.
Kathy screamed and swung at the figures and they both ducked, though in her aimless strike, she had hit the wall. The length of her arm and the shovel easily exceeded the doorway's.
"Whoa! Whoa! Kathy!" Called out a surprised voice. It sounded familar.
"Blaine?!... Kent?!" She exclaimed, exhailed a deep breath and panted to catch her breath.
"What the hell has gotten into you?!"
"I thought you left for the mine!"
"Well, after I left and picked Kent up, I noticed my cellphone was gone. So I called it with Kent's phone and I guess it was at home!"
"Then why didn't you call the home phone?!" She argued.
"Because I thought you might have gone back to sleep, but apparently you were too busy turning into a wreck. At least that means I didn't wake you up by tripping over that damn bucket." Blaine tilted his head towards the old bucket that stood outside on the side of the doorstep.
Kathey opened mouth to speak again but stopped and frowned. Kent tapped Blaine's shoulder with the back of two fingers and nodded.
Blaine sighed. "Oh, we'll discuss this later, we've got to go."
Blaine grabbed his cellphone, gave Kathy a kiss on the forehead, and rushed out the door to the car, Kent following behind him.
Kathy saw them off and closed the door, locked it, and snuggled back into the couch with Aunt Maggie's book.

~el Fin~

Holy hell that was fun.

~el fin~

Finrogg is that you??

How about a quick, jolly Christmas story.

The Christmas Tree
The light bloomed from the fiery tree. Every color pierced the ornaments and bent to lucid rainbows. The tinsel was a ribbon of silver. The sight glittered back into my eyes.
I started the chain saw.

I awoke to the sound of buzzing and the sound of wood chipping. I take my teddy bear with me to accompany me to the living room. To my horror I saw Santa sawing down our Christmas Tree! I took a step.
Crack!
He turns and glares at me with his deranged face. The light of the Cuban cigar in his mouth burns my eyes. It hurts, but the feeling of a chainsaw in your stomach hurts more.

I awoke. Thank God that was only a dream. However, I awake to the sound of buzzing again. I must save the Christmas Tree. I take my bat, and three nails. I sneak up quietly on the fat man.
Crack!
He falls over. I have saved the Christmas tree. Or have I? I look towards the window to see my Jewish neighbor cutting down branches. I look down at the fat man. I look down at the hole in his face. What have I done?

I awoke. I look at the Christmas tree and say, "Screw it." I take out my pistol.
Bang!

Rofl, "Holy sin" indeed.



el fin = the end.

Hasn't been anything new in this topic, so what the hell. I know this chapter seems to have thing happen rather suddenly, but it gets the job done. Also, don't complain that it's too short, read Frankenstein then tell me this is short.

0 NB
Chapter 2 - What lies beyond

I open my eyes. The room is light. The room is light! I quickly look towards the window to see the drapes set to the sides. I see a green mountain speckled with houses and a couple shops, the ocean, and a gray sky with some seagulls flying through it. Where am I?
I hear wheels roll to the side of my bed. The nurse returned with a wheelchair. I use my arms to lift myself into the wheelchair with help from the nurse. She was a rather big nurse and looked like she was in her thirties or forties, but carried a lot of experience with her. I’m finally seated in the wheelchair after some struggle and rolled out into the hallway.
The corridors and rooms of the hospital look typical, but why does everything feel different? Perhaps it’s because nobody here looks familiar, yet they have a familiar aura. I see the doctor.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
“Same to you,” I replied.
A bewildered look appeared but quickly vanished.
“Thank-you, anyways, I’m pretty sure that you’re hungry, so you might want to go get something to eat across the street.”
My stomach rumbled, he was right. I’m wheeled over to the glass doors and see what appeared to be a local restaurant. However, I realized something was awkward. I look at the sign and read the words and my head begins to feel like it’s going to explode. Images fly through my mind too fast to comprehend their meaning. Suddenly, one stops. I’m reaching upward. The images clear. The restaurant says “Ramona Chicken House” in bold red letters.
I remember the word “Ramona”. It is my home, but the place I see is not.
Panicking, I ask the nurse, “Where am I?”
Confused and wide-eyed she responds, “San Diego, California. Perhaps letting you outside the hospital was a bad idea.”
“No it’s ok, I just was.”
I was out cold. She had injected me with something that caused me to sleep.
“Maybe you need to be in a more suitable place.”

Here's astory that I did a few nights ago that HolySin gave a 6 out of 10 (it's 6 pages on Corel Word Perfect size 12 font, my Language arts teacher is going to copy it and hand it out to the class so they can understand how to write a good story):

Earth. Far from perfect, but we’re here anyway. Have you ever wondered, if life isn’t perfect, then why doesn’t whoever is pulling the strings just take it down for maintenance? Or maybe, when will we have “Life: Version 2.0,” where all the bugs from before are fixed? If you put things into perspective, this is a lot harder of a job than it seems. When you ponder it for awhile, you’ll find that there are a lot more problems then you thought. This is the story of one of those glitches in the system. Just one of the imperfections in world that will be forgotten soon enough. This is the ordeal of Phillip McKinerlay.

Phillip was the kind of person who the world used as a security blanket. In other words, he made other people feel better about themselves. With thick glasses and shining aluminum braces over his crooked teeth, you could call him the perfect stereotype of a nerd. Short, skinny, and pale with a face packed full of red zits, he was the perfect target for bullying, snide comments, and the occasional mugging. Although he was --for other reasons-- hated, there was a quality that people liked about him: He was a great storyteller. Perhaps this is why he has so many friends on his online games. He is a much better storyteller than I, though, so we will let him take over now.

PHILLIP
After the usual day of being canned, punched, stolen from, and teased, I finally got to walk home, smelling like a six month old unwashed gym sock. I could finally return to my sanctuary; the world of online gaming. As I logged into my level 43 mage elf character, Narcificus, I noticed a message appear in the corner of the screen. I typed back, and the conversation went like this:
<v00d00> would u like 2 get bak at t3h 1's who anger u?
<Narcificus> Please use proper English, and who are you?
<v00d00> i could help u get wut u want
<Narcificus> Would you please leave me alone?
<v00d00> me help u to win
<Narcificus> /blockusers v00d00
<User(s): v00d00 blocked>
That v00d00 guy gave me quite a scare, so I decided to do my homework... then play some more. I pretended I was a spell caster until 11:00 PM, which is when (for some strange reason) I always get tired enough to sleep. After brushing my teeth, flossing, and releasing, I dove into bed. I sort of hit the side of the bed and fell off, but that didn’t matter. I had just felt the softness of the pillow touch my face as I drifted into a deep sleep.
* * *
It must have been a dream, but it felt real. I was walking down a dark road, I felt the cold on my face, I heard my own near-silent footsteps. There was one thing that gave away reality: I had no control over my own body. I saw the sidewalk start to change into crumbling street as I moved forward, into the city slums. Suddenly, my legs stopped moving. My head swivelled right to left, to right again, then my body proceeded into an alleyway. My hand knocked on a heavy metal door that I hadn’t noticed. A voice said, “Yes?”
“Snake eyes.” I said cooly, in a voice that didn’t sound like my own. The door opened silently and swiftly, and I was greeted with a dimly lit room full of black plastic briefcases. “What is it that we need today, little G? Drugs, guns, knives, car bombs, D-12 spinners, we got it all!” said a large dark man in a bandana.
“I need guns. Lots of guns.” Now I was afraid. I was in a drug dealer’s lair, that was full of weaponry, and I had no control. “How you gonna pay for all dat?” he questioned. “You don’t look like you gots any money!”
“How about I pay with a life?”
“Who’s life?”
“Yours, of course.”
“You askin’ for a fight, little brotha? Well I give you one!” He pulled out a butterfly knife and flipped it open. I was running, faster than I ever could, at the man. He lashed out with the two wicked blades of the knife. I dodged, then flew at the gangster. I made a one-handed vault off his shoulder and kicked the back of his head with unimaginable force. We both landed at the same time; I was on one knee, he was unmoving on the floor. My hand went towards a briefcase and threw it open. “These should do nicely,” I mumbled to myself as I looked at the inventory of handguns. I picked one up, weighed it in my hands, inspected every inch. I whirled back toward the man, who breathed heavily and grunted. I couldn’t believe what was happening, and I closed my eyes to shut it all out. I felt my arm raise, I heard a loud bang. When I opened my eyes again, I was horrified. The man was lying face down in a pool of his own blood. This was nothing like the deaths in my video games. Those were fake people, fake creatures, fake blood. But this all seemed so real. Real person. Real blood. Real death. I blacked out as I saw my hand reach for a sawed-off shotgun.
* * *
I woke up the next morning staring at the clock. It read 6:27 AM, three minutes before I had to get out of bed. I thought of my dream-no, nightmare- as I tried to get up and stretch. Fear overwhelmed me that I realized that I couldn’t. I tried to yell out, but I couldn’t. I had no control. Frantically, I tried to look around, but my eyes wouldn’t move. I then thought of how real the dream was, and that’s when I knew, the dream was real. I panicked as my body stood up and smashed my alarm clock. I could only watch as my hands swept knives and handguns into my backpack. I grabbed my coat off the corner of my bed and watched as my hands stuffed a gun into both of the inside pockets of my coat. As I walked out the door, I heard my mother yell, “Bye, honey!” My mouth didn’t answer back.
* * *
Bell. School. First period. The daily ritual had begun, started off by milling about until the teacher, Ms. Klaush, comes and tells us to quiet down. Ms. Klaush was our history teacher, a woman of around sixty two. About half-way through the lesson, my hand was raised. “Ms. Klaush, I have a question!”
“What is it?” she replied.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready to die?!”
“What? I–,” she was silenced mid-sentence by a bullet to the heart. Everyone screamed, I screamed in my mind, and a devilish smirk crept across my face. “Where is the one named Jennifer Baker?” I heard myself yell in that demented voice. A boy, a football player pointed to her. “What is your name?” whatever I was asked him, as my body slowly moved toward him. “D-Dirk, s-s-sir,” he studdered.
“Well, Dirk,” I said coldly, just above a whisper “I might just not kill you for your help...”
“R-really?” he said in a feeble voice.
“No.” The blast echoed around the room as the shotgun fired. Warm blood splattered on my face. My hand cocked the gun and the empty bullet casing fell out the side. Tears were cascading from people’s eyes, others were crying in each others arms. I turned toward Jennifer. She was the jewel of the cheer squad, worshiped by all the jocks. Strangely, I couldn’t believe that I was in her presence. “What do you what with me, Phillip?” She asked defiantly, her eyes misting up. I tried to regain control again; I only managed to contort my face into a sort of frown. “You,” my lips said cruelly. “You humiliated me, and dumped me in front of everyone!”
“What are you– Gordon, what have you done to Phillip? And I didn’t dump you! We were never going out!”
“Yes, but you rejected me, which hurt just as much! Phillip is under my control now, and using him,” the gun raised to her face. “I plan to kill you.” I used every last bit of control I had. I focused hard as my finger slowly pulled on the trigger. I heard sirens and saw flashing lights out the corners of my eyes. This was it. The trigger was about to be pulled. I fixed my mind on moving the gun. The barrel abruptly whipped sideways; a field of pellets peppering the ground next to her. “All shall fear Lord Voodoo!” my voice yelled. I heard the door smash open, then a pain in my lower back, then I was falling through blackness.
* * *
LAWYER
“And that’s when you nabbed me,” Phillip finished. He was in a straight jacket, we were at the asylum. “I told you he was a great storyteller,” I said. “The verdict has been decided,” the judge said, “You, Phillip McKinerlay, are setenced to stay here in the asylum until you are twenty one years old.”
“But–,”
“Overruled! The verdict is final!”
“No!”
“Yes! Take him to his room.”
“NO!” he screamed as two workers dragged him out into a cell.

What have we learned from this story? Don’t play online computer games? No. Stay away from people who know voodoo? Maybe. Don’t get possessed by crazy people and kill the whole town? Yes, but that’s not the point. What I’m getting at here is that there are things like this – well, not exactly like this – are happening all the time. No matter how much you try, there will always be problems in life. Earth. If it’s not perfect, why are we here? Who knows, but I wouldn’t waste time thinking about it.

The part I said in the beginning of my post about my language arts teacher copying it is true, but she said "Your story is the very definition of tone and voice," and that's what a lot of people in my class, sadly, don't have.

Are you looking 6 out 10 as a decimal rating? I'm looking at it as a rubric:
9-10 - A
7-8 - B
5-6 - C
3-4 - D
1-2 - F

But I guess my rating is rather biased since I've heard so many stories on the meaning of life, "Why are we here?", etc. But, at best, I would give an 8. This story seems to have no luster. But if I'm interpretting your first sentence right, you seem to be very unsatisfied with my rating and wishing for somebody else to agree with you, better yet, have somebody suck up to your story and try to make me feel bad for the rating, but that may be taking my interpretation too far. So here's your "better" rating:
(1)-----[7]--(10)

Satisfied now?

Actually, this story has nothing to do with the meaning of life >.< too bad for you.

It's good to read these when you're bored or have nothing to do.

I have a new fun game!

(omg a game inside a game inside a topic omgz'z'z'z!)


This game is called spotching

This is how you play 1 person makes a paragaph (5 scentences) of something the next person completes the paragraph and so on and so on. But (obvioslly not plagorizing 3 WORT) theres a twist in one of your scentences you have to make a SUPRISING TWIST woooo il go first

One day. One Night. A girl was walking down the street. She turned around. and it was a man.