"immoral morality" extract..

[H2O Creation]

The cold stone wall was taking water from the outside and with the leak dripping from the rusted copper pipe all over the deteriorating wooden floor making it soggy and unstable. The tainted fruitless mould had begun to move quickly and was travelling in all directions, trying to get away from the foul stench that was aspiring from around the dilapidated basement that was surrounding Doug. Which he so elegantly pictured as his humble work space. Little light graced his hole with only a fluorescent tube flickering over his crumbled bench where he viewed and marvelled at his amateur style photo’s, that would barely reach a low key publication in the back end of a dating magazine. He gazed at his latest work feeling fulfilled and excited, knowing that all would be horrified at the thought of his sadistic in balance of his new found interests. Doug twisting his head around towards the bug infested stair case that led up to the hallway, where soon he would have to re-emerge into his everyday life which he considered to be lost and pointless. A part of his life that he regular referred to as hell, a place where Nosferatu’s un-dead roamed the world, sucking the life out of each other for every turn of the dice. He imagined his hole to be a place of remorse, a turning point for all that succumb to their immoral in just.

[PMS Cupcake]

this is scary :x
and i wouldnt walk up stairs covered in bugs. and you use big words.

hah
But i do like it, its interesting, and if i understood it more, i think id like it even better!

[Draco88]

I understand it completely. as for the big words when your trying to create an air of suspense and mystique you sometimes just have to use words that some people might not understand

[PMS Ayashi]

meh, make it scarier please

[H2O Creation]

no... but here's some more carrying on from above...

The clanging of pipes and the sound of bubbling water from the boiler awoke Doug from his moment of thought. Spiralling him into a cloud of confusion sending shivers down his spine, giving him that terrified feeling that his old headmaster had just reached the top of his backstroke to release that striking blow of the cane across his bare flesh. A small fragile voice spoke softly making Doug tremble with fear “is that mum, has she come for me” Rage suddenly flourished through Doug’s veins as he barked his words spitting and drawling after each syllable.
“Chloe why are you here. No one’s coming,.. Especially your mother, she’s long gone. She was a tramp she never deserved you. Now shut it before you make me wake the others”.
“B b but she loved me. She did... she loved me”
“I’m the only one that loved you and look what you’re doing. Why do you torment me? You’re a stupid cow just like your mother was”.
The sound of tiny little feet fumbled off into the distance merging with the shadows that surrounded the flickering tube. Doug sat back down on his old cord recliner in front of his work bench muttering under his breath “Oh god why have you sent her its been three years now”

By now the old pipes were going into over drive, you could hear the moans and the groans of people waking themselves up around the house, Doug thought they sounded like rats scurrying around on the floor boards over his head. Any minute he knew he would be called upon to complete his daily tasks. It was like the two minute warning, with the matron directing all the patients where to be and what to do.
Then it began. “SARAH get in the shower, SARAH get out the shower, you’re going to be late. SARAH do your teeth” oh the pain, the wife’s voice shriveled through Doug’s ears as if the cat was been strangled. But Doug had turned her noise into something he could cope with. In his mind his wife was the cat and his hands was doing the talking and with this Doug had turned a thirteen year old boy going through puberty trying to sing “I will always love you” by Whitney Houston into Beethoven's 3rd movement in the moonlight sonata. It was like music to his ears. Beethoven then surprisingly hit a wrong key leaving Doug in a state of shock. But then realising that his wife had redirected her focus from Sarah on to him, pulling him out of his barbaric fantasy. “Get up here now, don’t make me come down there, you know how you like your privacy”. Doug snarled at her orders “who does she think she is. Child psychology, stupid mere. ”. Doug rolled his eyes shutting out his anger and heads for the stairs

[Draco88]

I am enjoying the story so far. I love stories that have a dark theme to them.

[H2O Creation]

oops i forgot about the bad language, don't like the stars as replacements though... i'll reword it instead...

[H2O Creation]

“C’mon Doug, I ain’t got all day Sarah needs to get to schools and these dishes don’t get done by themselves” Doug reached the top of the withered staircase and pauses as his hand wraps around the brass door knob hoping to avoid confrontation. Doug counts to five in his head holding his breath, 1..., 2..., 3... “I’ll be back at 6ish make sure the teas done and whatever you do”. Every day the same thing, Doug mimics her words as if he’d learnt them in a nativity play at the age of six. “Don’t forget to pick Sarah up from school”. The front door slams giving Doug the cue to enter the house without any worry of catching the dreaded virus that seemed to have spread through this mono drone world he lived in. Doug picks up his car keys and waits at the front door “Sarah are you ready? We got to go, can’t have you been late.” Doug looks at the basement door knowing that Chloe’s presence may be all alone in the cold dark refine’s of his basement.

The house seemed very quiet now that everyone had gone off fulfilling their everyday lives leaving Doug at peace with his fantasies. It was his favourite part of the day, that first moment when he got back in from the school run with just the sound of the grandfather clock ticking away at the end of the hall. First things first, breakfast. Doug made his way into the kitchen putting on the kettle and grabbing a few eggs out of the fridge, bah Monday, his wife never got the groceries till Wednesday so the fridge was looking rather bare. Milk, eggs and juice with a couple of gone off vegetables, he thought himself lucky to get away with an omelette so he grabbed the frying pan out of the cupboard and switched the gas on at the cooker. She’ll never take this away from me he mumbled profoundly. Before he could get back down to his humble abode, Doug had decided to take a quick dip in the tub as during his eggs he caught a quick sniff of his under arm and nearly brought last night’s dinner back up on to his plate. There must of being at least 3 days of sweat muskling around his pits.

Down in his basement Doug had pulled a few of the box’s out from underneath the bench. He’d picked the one he was after up off the rotting floor, written in large upper case letter’s were PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL. He’d opened the box with care as the corners were quite worn and it looked like the contents had not seen light for some time. Inside there was a large scrapbook, it was distinctively heavy as the cover was made of leather and the bind had a metal strip down the middle. Written on the front of the book was Case 459, in reading this Doug felt an unearthly movement in his nerves causing his heart to skip a beat or two. Opening it up, the dust filled the air making Doug sneeze all over the pages that were stained like it had being dripped in a vat of creamy coffee. “Why can’t I go to school” Doug stopped for a second but then ignored the delicate voice and had carried on reading the rough notes in the margin’s of the report.

22nd October 1996
After interviewing the neighbours of Mr Clackerman it comes to my attention that the absence of his wife and 2 Children for the last three months has led me to believe that Mr Clackerman is holding back some potential and valid information from the case.

“I want to go. I really do, you could take me with Sarah”
“NO! You have to stay here with me, if you don’t who would I talk to. Leave Sarah alone as well, your apart of my life not hers. Understand” Doug skipped a few pages in the book looking for something a little more juicer to get his taste buds going.

26th October 1996
Looking at the photo’s that Mr Clackerman had taken while on holiday in Italy has made me very suspicious of his private life and the business trips he regularly goes upon around Asia and South America.

“Didn’t you say that you wasn’t gonna open that box again.” A brief moment passed “I knew you would.”
“Stop it stop it stop it.” Shouted Doug. “Your all in my head, your Dead for fuck’s sake. Look it even says in the back of here.” Doug skipped to the back of the book franticly searching for the report on a missing child’s remains only to find a missing page torn from its seem. A silence fell over the basement with Doug covering his face with his hands trying to hold back the tears with his fingertips. Doug managed to console his frustration and pathetically mumbled “I‘m so sorry, I tried to help you I devoted my life to your return, but failed. I’m not as strong as I was. I need you to tell me what you want.”
“Why did you?” Chloe asked, intrigued why a man would spend so much time looking for someone that she had never met. “Why? Because... You are my daughter, my own flesh and blood. I had an affair with your mother just after I got married. I could never let anyone know that you were mine. When I heard you went missing, I did everything I could and being a detective I devoted my life into finding you. But look where it got me, I had to leave my job through stress and illness. I ruined my marriage with Claire and now I’m losing my little Sarah... I’m loosing my mind... I have noting to offer anyone... Why have you come to me after all this time?” Doug placed the book back in its box, carefully closing the lid and pushing the box back under the bench with his feet. “I felt so alone, loneliness is so cold. When I heard you calling in your sleep, I thought maybe...” Doug lay back in his chair and closed his eyes “what? That we could be together.”
“Yes, I could have a dad, I’ve never had a dad, all the other children had one. I just had an alcoholic mother who thought that parenting was mandatory and could throw money at it to make it go away” Doug reached for the draw, giving it a couple of tugs, as the wood had rotted together making it near impossible to open. Doug placed his hand inside the draw feeling his way through until his hand had touched the coldness of death. He clasped the handle pulling the revolver out in to the open “then we shall be together. Forever...” He placed the end of the gun into his mouth feeling the chill of the barrel pressing against his tongue. “I love you Chloe, I‘m so sorry.” Chloe did not reply, he was all alone. Darkness fell over Doug as his body relaxed into the chair. His pain had ended.

[Draco88]

That was a good story.

[H2O Creation]

still not finished....

[PMS Ayashi]

Ok now you have my attention. I can't wait to find out the rest.

[Draco88]

i thought that that would be the end of it.

[H2O Creation]

this is the ending... not to sure if im keen on it myself, thinking it needs more detail... what do you think???

“So officer what we got” detective Lopez entered the basement pulling back the tape that surrounded the door.
“Well chief it don’t look good, your not gonna believe it, who’d believe it, I just... I...” stuttered Officer Jackson.
“Spit it out, I don’t have all day”
A commotion came from upstairs with a woman’s voice screaming bloody insanity.
“Hold on Jackson, lets see what’s happening out here we seem to have asterical relation on our hands.” Detective Lopez walked back up the rickety staircase passing through the tape entering the hall. At the bottom of main stairs lay a woman with tears streaming down her face. Lopez bent down on one knee placing his hand on the distressed woman’s shoulder. Her head raised making eye contact sending a feeling of disparity through the detective’s limbs. A moment of coldness filled the air stunting the detective’s ability to communicate with the woman. “Claire… why are you… where’s… no don’t tell me...” Detective Lopez turned to face the basement door looking completely in denial. “No! Don‘t tell me that‘s” a feeling of loss and emptiness started to build up in Detective Lopez’s throat, his judgement clouded over and his only reaction was to take Claire into his arms not out of support but out of guilt and the realisation of comfort for himself. Even though it was in the arms of someone who he portrayed as a cause to the loss of his once loved colleague and friend who occasionally shared a beer or two down the local bar after a hard days work.

Lopez called upon one of the officer’s to find a contact, a close relative or friend so that Claire could be consoled in this time of suffering. Lopez picked Claire up from the floor taking her into the sitting room leaving her with one of the officer‘s. Not saying a word still in a world of his own he walked over to the arm chair where he sat with unease. He never in all his dreams had imagined something so horrific that he would have to entertain. Twenty years on the force all the cases that he had worked, some of the most disturbing murders that New York had to offer, yet this was the worst, he could not imagine to comprehend the feeling inside his gut, With the loss of his once so dear friend. Guilt had started to spread through his nerves, his mind started to wonder, was his absence a factor, could he of prevented this, if only… would he fall into the same trap if he carried on letting his work become apart of him just like Doug had done. The phone rang the female officer walked into the hall to try and locate the phone‘s intensive ringing. Eventually the ringing stopped and you could hear the officer speaking in the distance, both Detective Lopez and Claire were struggling to hear who it was but all that they could make out was a mumbling as the solid doors were blocking out the sound. The mumbling stopped and the officer entered the room “err Mrs Torino it’s Chloe your daughter she’s says she’s in England and she wants to speak to you” Claire glanced over at the detective and then back at the other officer. “She’s not my daughter it’s my husband’s daughter.” I can’t speak right now.

the end

[Draco88]

I think that the ending was just fine. Fits right in with the rest of the story.

Did you remember the answer to that riddle.

[H2O Forester]

it's a good story/