School Days Series

  • Chapter 1: Crossing the Line- When threaten to get kicked out of school, Blake takes the offense on his teacher.
  • Chapter 2: Explanation- The story of how the teacher got a heart attack; not a easy story for Blake O'Brian to explain to his family.
  • Chapter 3: Potition- Wording out the school food, Dana and Mellisa drag Blake in to help support them.
  • Chapter 4: Mellisa and Dana- Preparing for a end of semester Exam. But studying with two girls who like you, not really easy.
  • Chapter 5: Noob- A new student comes to Greenwall High School and becomes easy prey for the bullies and the gangsters.
  • Chapter 6: Long Live the King- When Andrew Peevee (new student) is confronted by a gang, blood would rain upon the school.
  • Chapter 7: The Tell-Tale Heart of Andrew Peevee- After his kill of the leader of the gang, Andrew tells his new friends: Blake, Mellisa, and Dana what he had done.
  • Chapter 8: Judgement- after hearing his tale; Blake, Mellisa, and Dana decide "Not gulity". But wasn't only Andrew's new friends who heard the tale

Music Makes our World go Round

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Fall Where?

i smell, ugh, dog shit! What the hell is wrong with this scence already? Well, i stand here in a locker room, ass naked boys walking pass me laughing their heads off like jackles. Throwing Axe cans at each other, sending fumes of chocalate, Clix, and other odors into the air.
There was a poping sound and i hissed, looking behind me, staring at the kid who popped me on the neck. Pain shot through my body and furry was covering it over, like glaze over a donut. He ran off, laughing with the other guys and i just sneered, running my neck. The kid who had popped suddenly slipped and i chorttled as the smack of skin on hard tile and water made contact on his back.
He screamed and i shouted, "Serves you, you fucking BASTARD! Didn't your mommy tell you not to run on hard, wet surfaces?"

I was already out, a trickle of blood running down my neck. The kid who had popped me had metal on the tip of his towel and hurt like hell.

{Ill come back to this story when i get a stronger movement to this.}

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Crossing the Line {1/2}

"Now class, i am assigning homework because all you have to do is just do what Ms. Hayden had just said. But if your weren't listening," she starred at Blake coldly; Blake still looking out the window, "Then it is your loss."

The class groaned and a few boys in the back swore under their breath. The teacher snapped her fingers once, snapping out, "SILENCE! I will not have that language in my class boys!" She starred coldly at Blake again.

Blake's teacher, Eddie Fought, had said on their first day of 8th grade that: "In math class (Pre-Algebra) you will be trialed with the best and hardest math problems. Work hard and study and you might succeed; if not... the consequences will be server. Failing grades will not be tolerated in my class. Everyday you will receive homework. Any late papers and there will be 'HELL' to pay (detention). Welcome to the 8th grade and i hope you enjoy your year."

That semi-speech was painted in the back of the classroom.

Everyone in the classroom could see tons of things wrong with that speech. For example:
-In math class (Pre-Algebra) you will be trialed with the best and hardest math problems. "Oh Crap!"
-Work hard and study and you might succeed; if not... the consequences will be server. "Might?"
-Any late papers and there will be 'HELL' to pay (detention). "This teacher must be the Devil!"
-Everyday you will receive homework. "Like we need homework every screwed up day of our life!"
-Welcome to the 8th grade and i hope you enjoy your year. "She must be joking?!"

Blake finally took his eyes away from the bird outside, starring down at his watch. The second-hand seemed to grow slower every tick...tock. Thirty-five minutes were still left of class.
There was some talking in the background but Blake really did pay attention, "Okay class, if... Mr. O'Brian knows the answer the question then i won't give out homework." said Mrs. Fought.

Blake snapped his head up, putting on a face like a curious puppy examining a new chew toy. A kid in the back whispered, "No! Anyone but Blake!"

"Well Mr. O'Brian? What is the answer?"

"Twenty-gon? That would be," Blake quickly did the math, "3240 degrees! Am i right?" He announced to the classroom, not making eye contact with anyone but watching the bird; which was again eating another worm.

A few of the kids started whispering excitedly and then a boy in the back stood up said stupidly, "Ya! No homework!"
The kids in the classroom chortled but they all faltered as Mrs. Fought looked angrily at the boy.
"Sit your ass down Mr. Thomas!"

That was one of the scary things about Mrs. Fought, she would cuss at the class or a student and she to intimidating that no one would report her, not even the own staff. She seemed like one of those people who would slit your throats in your sleep or enter your dreams.

.... Stayed tuned!

Left side number= chapter
Right side number= part

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Crossing the Line {1}

-new story-
Blake O'Brian sat at his hard, wooden desk like any other school boy; finishing a worded math problem. "What is the Definition of Supplementary:" 'A supplementary is a total of 180 degrees from two angles: 110degrees+70degrees= 180.'
It was to easy for him, he didn't understand why the other kids whined and groaned about it.

Blake sat nearest to the math class window and enjoyed its company. Some would call that weird, a window bringing company.

He set his pencil down and leaned back, relieved to be done. He looked out of the window. The sky was just a bright shot of blue with the sun shining up high, not a cloud in the sky. A Black bird hung in the air, wobbling a bit as if a huge gust of wind was pushing it. Then it took a nose dive.

Blake watched it zoom to the ground as if like a bullet. It unfurled its' wings and it touched ground softly. It put its' beak into the ground and no sooner, it came back out flinging into the air a pinkish object. The worm wiggled in the air and the bird opened its' beak; the worm falling right into the mouth.

Blake clapped a golfers' clap and laughed. The students close to him starred at him to see what was so funny. Blake laughed a bit harder at the looks of 'Your a weirdo' on each of the kids. The teacher cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the other class members. She was pointing at a figure: a Decagon.
"Can anyone tell me, no, explain to me how to figure out the angles or one angle of any shape?" she said to the class.

A hand flew into the air and the teacher waited for other hands to fly into the air, but none came. The hand already in the air was now shaking violently.

"Yes, Ms. Hayden?"
"A decagon is a ten sided figure. To figure out the answer, all you have to do is remember this simple formula: S=(N-2)X 180 degrees.
So you would do S=(10-2)=8 X 180= 1440 degrees. Then to find one angle, you simply divide by the number sides the figure has:
1440/10 = 144 degrees." Holly Hayden said this very fast and excitedly.

Blake knew the teacher was eyeing the side of his ear, but he still watched the black bird outside have a feast, finding thousands' of birds.
"Thank you Ms. Hayden, for that really," she stopped to think of the right words, "grand explanation and answers."

{Will post next part of story later.}

Monday, December 1, 2008

Chapter 0: Witch one, Sister or Mother? {Part 3} {Page 3 and 9}

A defender’s blood will become acid to the dark. But that was basic logic. But you never want to kill a witch, because it becomes meaningless. Bone bind magic. They would just be reborn and become stronger than the last time; their memory as sharp as ever, remembering your face.

The battle cry of the other witches rang out and the old man started. The witches jumped off from the balcony and landed on their feet as light as a cat would do from jumping from a fence. They were hissing. Hoods over their faces.

The old man brought his staff up and slammed it down hard on the wooden floor. A blast of hard air shot around the man in a circle and expanded. Knocking the witches to their feet. The one closets to him raised her finger and a black bolt shot out and flew straight at the old man.

The man stepped to the side as fast as he could, for only the bolt missed his heart but struck his side. Carving some flesh out. But the normal blood, thick and red, did not pour from his open wound, but a dark liquid fell to the wooden floor. The old man took a big in breath and hissed, “Astra Wound!” A scab formed over the wound and the man breathed out.

Spells were thrown at the man, all shots missed to fright of the other witches. Then the witch, who had cast the dart spell, yelled out, “Die Calesor, Die you bastard!”

The old man grinned, as a response to the name Calesor. He grabbed a silver chain from around his belt. The two standing witches screamed at the sight of the chain. They turned on their heels and started running. The old man, Calesor, what ever he was; threw the chain into the air. The second the chain left his hands, the sound of firecrackers was heard. The two witches froze. The chain stood in the air and then, shot at the witches. The chain reached one of the witch’s and trapped her feet. Binding her from ankles to mouth.

She screamed as the silver made contact with her open skin. Silver on a witch’s body creates the sensation of a burning fire.

The other witch stopped and fell to her knees, crying heavily and shaking her head whispering, “No, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

The Calesor smirked and then drew out another chain. He swung it over his head. But something caught his eye. The adult witch was moving. She was more of a threat than that little girl. He threw the chain at the adult. He reached in to his pouch again for another chain, but all he felt was leather.

He looked at the other witch, sobbing on the ground. He ran over to her as fast as he could. He grabbed her hood and yanked it off. A stream white hair poured down from the good and a fresh new wave of tears fell to the ground.

The clanking sound of the chain snaking over to the adult witch seemed to startle the young witch in front of her. The chain snaked around the adult and she moaned as the silver burned her skin. The witch’s eyes were red with hate.

“I didn’t even a thing… and she said nothing bad would happen.” Sniffed the white haired witch in front of the Calesor. The Calesor walked off, he knew, for some reason, that she did nothing. He stopped at the other little witch, who could be the white haired’s sister. Picked her up and walked over to the adult who was now knocked out cold. He picked her up as well. Carrying both witches on his shoulders.

“Don’t kill my sister or my mom, I need them. I don’t know what I would do if I lost them.” She said in an airy, feeble voice.
She was truly defeated, she wouldn’t fight back. He looked at the little girl standing in front of him. The Calesor shook his head and whispered,
“Shinigami’s mission is to send the Murderers of the Speeds to hell. I promised Shinigami, the devil, and god himself. To get rid of you type of fiends. But you do not fight back, nor do I think you caused the death of the Speed family. Therefore I have decided to spare your life.” He spoke loud and clear, but in an also tired voice. “Now, please tell me the truth, who killed the Speeds?”

She looked up at him having more tears fall from her eyes; sliding down her cheeks and splashing on the ground. She kept whispering, “Why, why, why…?”

The Calesor was growing very inpatient, do to his old age, he felt like he was going to die right their if he had to stand any longer.

Then she fell to her knees, the moonlight throwing her into full focus. Her white hair reflected the light from the moon; her black robe seemed too small because her belly button was showing. Her skin was a fair tan color, which meant that she was a clean witch who hasn’t been reduced to killing. Her eyes shined a bright, deep blue.

Shinigami cold hands were upon his shoulders whispering, “Kill them, they deserve it. Show no mercy. She is better off dead than living in the human world along with her sister and her mother.”

The Calesor grimaced at the voice of Shinigami; stuck in his head, not being able to be rid of it. It even sent chills down the Calseor’s back. But it was not his choice for who lives and who suffers. He walked over to the girl, putting down the other witches. He knelt down and put his hand on the girl, who shivered as if she had felt a cold blast of wind.

Then he put his hand to her chin, to get a better look into her eyes. She slapped it away.
The witch’s sister moaned and the witch in front of the Calesor, looked over his shoulder to get a good look at her sister.

“On hell’s name, I will let only two of you to live. I have already chosen you so I want you to make the choice. The angles above cry to me; telling me to kill you all, but I see something in you. So, I ignore their call. If you don’t make your choice, I will take your sister’s and mother’s lives. I am so sorry for this question but, who do you want? Your sister or your mother.” The Calesor said in her ear.

“NO!” She wailed throwing her fist on the man. But he shrugged them off. Knowing the punishment of the question. “That’s…impossible…you… are… so…cruel!” She sobbed hard for every word she could bring out.

“I have no choice.” He said.
“No your not, you don’t have to do this!” she sobbed.

She looked into his old and tired face, eyes all red and puffy do to the tears that lay scattered across the floor. Her blue eyes were gone. And the Calesor: It was a sick question; you can never split apart a mother from her daughter nor separate the sisters. Out of all the missions he had to have, he got the one that pained him the most.

“My mom killed the Speeds. She did it for our protection and to…” she cut off at the end. He knew what she was going to say.
“To teach you how to kill without using mortal violence?” he whispered.

She nodded her end. “I love my mom and my sister, can’t they-?”
“No,” He hissed and his knife would send a shock of pain back into his back. “You have just confessed the murders of the Speed Family. I don’t like killing, witch but it must be done, if I didn’t do it, who would? I have made my choice. Your judgment has been set…”

“No your not! I bet you love killing! You jerk!” she screamed at him while he walked over to her sister’s body. “DON’T TOUCH HER YOU FREAK!” She shrieked.

“Tuh, fine, I like to see you get these chains off without burning yourself. OR? I could get them off and so you and your sister can rejoice. Which one? And if you keep screaming I will kill her, so shut up!” He said in a matter of fact tone. “Freie!” He barked at the witch on the ground.

The chains on the witch slivered off her like a snake, fleeing from a horrible battle gone wrong. Clanking and rattling on the ground as it crawled up the Calesor’s leg and into the pouch.
Her sister stirred, the faint imprints on her skin where the chain had been; burned into her skin and were visible, bright red on her skin. She looked up into the Calesor’s old aged, soft eyes. She stifled a small shriek and then she looked at her sister and then at her mother. She pointed her finger at the man quickly then opened her mouth, “Sia-!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The Calesor, as he grabbed her finger and snapped it. As she had threatened him, about to cause the torture curse.

The Calesor grabbed her robe top and thrust her across the room, hearing her whine when she sled across the floor, cradling her hurt, broken finger.

The Calesor stood back up, grunting from his back pain he earned in his little battle with the witches. The Calesor looked down at the sisters, the littlest one holding her sister as the oldest wept. They were identical down to their toes, except the fact that their hair was different. The youngest now helping her oldest sister to her feet.
The red head looked at him and threw him a dirty look that bowed the old man a slow and painful death.

The twins rose to their feet, now fully standing, but swaying as they were both somewhat injured: physically and emotional. It sickened the Calesor that he was letting scum like the red head get away. But it was justice. But it would save the world and do it a big favor. But at least a teacher will be killed and banished from Earth’s surface and into hell itself.

The youngest witch coughed and the Calesor looked up from the ground. “Umm, thanks sir for sparring my and my sister’s lives.” She said weakly.

Her sister hissed menacingly and the Calesor shook his head and said in a weak, determined voice, “I am sorry this had to happen. But, I will find you and I will kill you the next time, no mercy!” The Calesor tried to keep the menace out of his voice but came out and it was harsher than he expected.

The youngest nodded and mouthed, “No mercy.”
The other shook violently.

The Calesor knew they wouldn’t get far on foot and he knew the oldest sister would want revenge. He reached into his pouch and said, “The trip might be unpleasant.” He withdrew a black powder that poured slowly from his hand like sand trying to pass the area in a sand timer. He threw it at the witches and it scattered. Then he shouted, “America!” The witches paused wondering if that was a spell. Then a wall of spiraling black and deep purple engulfed the twins.

When the wall faded, the twins had vanished. Leaving no trace that they were there.

The Calesor sighed and then reached around his back and withdrew a blade. The sound of metal sliding on hard leather pierced the house. The Calesor wielded a small dagger and walked over to the teaching witch.
“Aw Flasay Pole.” He murmured. The chains binding the witch started moving around and then opened up a spot, right over the witch’s heart area. He took a deep breath and raised the knife high into the air.

Stay tuned for…
Chapter 1:
The Chat with Shinigami

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Chapter 0: Witch one, Sister or Mother? {Part 2} {Page 2 and 3}

... The flickering light kept flashing red and green; back and forth. The red was, of course, the most dominant color that formed from the flame.
The witches knew he was out there and they by now that he would of casted the blood circle of David's Star. They would not be able to leave until the old man was dead.

The old man moved up to the house, limping every time on his right leg. His hand on his staff was becoming even more sweatier every second his heart was beating as he drew closer to the old house. His other head, wet from the blood, still holding the lantern.

He reached the top of the porch and took several deep breaths. If he was right, eating the soul and the witches heart's, would turn him back to a young one. His old wrinkly face would become flat and his gray hair would become its' glorious dirty blond color. Plus, his cholesterol would be much better and as well, his bladder problem would stop.

The old man looked back up at the dark door in front of him, his weak two- hundred year old eyes blinked. He touched the door with his staff, his heart pounding furiously. His whole body shaking. The screeching of the door's hinges wrong out and the old man winced. Leaving the screeching hinges to echo into the blank empty blackness of the house.

The echo had died and silence fell upon the old man, and that irritated him. He just couldn't tolerate the sound of the quiet. So he started to hum a little tune. But it felt awkward to start humming the certain tune so he stopped.

The man walked on the welcome mat inside the house. He was trembling violently and he knew they were there, somewhere in the shadows. Ready to attack him when his back was turned.

They whispered and they were sure they could take the old man, he looked weak enough.

The man put the lantern on the floor and withdrew his blood stained knife from his pocket and he held it up to shoulder level. His staff in his other hand, with sweat making it almost to hard to grab it properly.

The witches watched the knife. They were shaking, but at least had their fear under control. The man's knife was trembling in his hands. This was going to be an easy kill for the witches.

The closets one to the old man held her hand, the right, to her heart and muttered something indistinguishable. But no later had she said it, a blue little flame appeared.

The old man froze and gripped his staff even tighter, a new flow of blood came pouring down his arm. He took one step foreward, as if he didn't hear anything at all. But the second his left foot hit ground. He spun around and swung his staff. Making contact with the witch, she cried out and the old man's blood was flung at her. She screamed, as if touched by holy water or acid. She crumbled to the ground.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

The Extinction of the Human Race {A very short stroy}

The shadows were dancing on the walls, growing taller and darker as the sun sank into the infinite sky. The cold blast of air from the south of the country moved in and he felt the cold wave hit. Seeing it ripple across the pond. Flicks of water came and made contact with his pale white skin. Like he really needed the water.

Death shivered as yet another wave of water and cold Arctic winds came into contact with his skin. The water particles on his cold white skin did not shine. No sun showed. Why should it, on this day?

He looked out into the distance to see all dead corpses laying dead on the ground. Their blank eyes starring back at him. Some looking at peace and some with torn up faces. The mushroom cloud was still hanging in the air.

He laid his head on the back of the wall. The sun now barely visible now against the darkening sky.

He sighed and cupped his hands together. His raven black hair now becoming one with the weakening sky. The back of his head -the hair- stood up in the back. His skin starting to glow now. Seeing the dead sun gone and the moonlight glancing off it. His eyes; not their fairy told black, but bright yellow. He wore all black.

His shirt was destroyed, and blood and pain oozed from the huge wound that came from the "death bomb". The glass shard the had caused this wound laid next to him. Not a single drop of blood on it.

Blue figures stood next to their corpses. He raised his head to look at the things. The one closets to him was a woman. She was crying at her dead body which looked peaceful. Death took a deep breath so the other figures could hear, "You are all dead. The human race is gone. Go to heaven now." Death looked at the woman, "I am so sorry Rebeka. I did not choose this."

The woman looked at him and fell to her knees. "Everybody please, go into the light. I know you see it." Death adressed everyone.

"You foul, evil, wretch! How could you betray us?" said the woman named Rebeka.

"I am so sorry. But i have to full-fill god's will." Death whispered.

"Acelin Adam! You bastard!" shouted a teenager. The name rang somewhere in Death's mind. "Wake up, Ace!" he yelled again.

Death froze in his spot. He was shaking. He did not want too. They had to leave now. The mask on his face was forming. Into a skull. "Leave! Please!" Death yelled.

"Those who will not leave Earth on Nightmares End will be sent to hell." the Devil had told him when he became Death.
When the sun dies from Earth's face. And my bomb falls. The world will become mine. You could've stopped it. But...
The last words of the devil.

Death stood up. The mask on his face almost complete. "Three!" he yelled harshly! Wanting them to flee.

A circle was forming around him now. "Two!"

The souls were starting to leave.

Then a high ice cold rang from Death's mouth, "Now die!"
The world's ground broke and he stood floating above the world. The cries of the souls fell into hell.
Death shreiked.

You made your deal, Adam Ace. Now pay your toll! came a hot angry voice.

Bands of black fell from the boy and Adam fell. Screaming as he was dragged into hell.

The end of the human race is now over.

Deal of devil,
never follow,
just get swollowed,
fall hard like hammer on anvil.

What do you think? Please comment.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Chapter 0: Witch One, Sister or Mother {Part 1}

The Shreiks of horror that came from the house atop Mayfeild Hill rang all the way down into Wolf Fire Valley. The shreik of a woman stuck out more but the scream only reached the valley in a muffled whisper. The dark house that let out this blood crudling shreik, flashed bright white and than became even darker than before.

No sooner had the house had a burst of white light, a brass bell rang aloud through the valley and at that, at the foot of Old Mayfeild Hill stood an old man. Looking very wary and wan. His bones visible through his skin, his blood veins stood out, deep blue and pulsing. In his hand was a lantern which had a flame, deep blue.

The flame flickered from deepest blue to a dark blood red color when the old man took a step foreward. The old man grunted when the flame flickered. He laid the lantern on the ground. "Bloody Witches!" he grumbled.

The old man gropped in his pocket robes. But he kept his eyes upon the house watching to see any activity. His hand came to contact to what he was looking for and he pulled it out. He took off the strap and the flame light cuaght the figure and the old man put his finger to it. The soulte of a knife was thrown into focus as the man put it up to his arm.

The man hated these witches already, well the types. They are probably drunk. Blood magic could be smelled from here, with the sent of dead fish. Bone Magic lingered around here too, the smell of raw meat. But the old man knew, you fight the same thing head on. He cut a little hole in his arm and nothing came out for about two seconds till a wave of blood poured out. His skin was touren like tissue paper.

He put his arm down so the blood would flow to his fingers. He had to act quickley or all the blood will be loss from his body. The pillar to his right stood bright and bare. He went up to it and drew the star of david. Then a circle around it with runes around it.

He did to the left pillar and then he gave a low grunt and muttered under his breath, "Like to see those bitches get of that now." The whole house now had the star of David of the gates, which was impossible for witches to escape from. The star of david was said to capture dark feinds and those who preformed Chaos, Blood, and Bone magic. Those who enjoy the taste of human flesh and blood and raw meat. It isn't all vampires who drink blood. Those of pure evil drink the blood of a human and a god of death, to drink the blood of a child.

Red Light, get ready for a fight because you might die.
Blue light, tonight is a safe night.
Green Light, don't get cocky, death might come your way.
These are the colors of Calesor Magic. {Good Magic}

{Stay tuned! That was only one page on notebook paper. I have six more pages!}

The World is Changing!

The World is Changing!
Smart and straight to the point. He's like a little boy with a large vocabulary. He's the nicest character Jackie's meet and he gets along with her.


Blake O'Brian

Blake O'Brian







OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets

Created by OnePlusYou - Free Dating Sites

Writing-Story Tellers

My World Veiwers...

My Blog List