The Farmhouse – Emily Kunkel

I now want to introduce Emily Kunkel. She also won for the Nightmare writing contest! I hope you enjoy her story as much as I did. :)

"I am a freshman at Indiana Wesleyan University, 
double majoring in English and Writing. I am a writer, 
but I plan to be full time once I'm done with college."

“This is it?” I asked. In front of me stood an old farmhouse. The light blue paint was chipping; the white shudders were broken. Ivy climbed up one side. It looked like it had been deserted for some time now. “This is what we moved to Indiana for?” “Oh come on Bianca. It may be old, but it just needs some fixing up! It will only take some paint and tools,” my mother, Clara, said. “It will be all work out in the end. You’ll see.” “Yeah Bi, have a little faith,” my stepfather, Marcus, said. I sighed. My parents were very enthusiastic that there was hope for this place. All I saw was an old house falling apart in a random woods in the middle of nowhere. This is it. This is my new home, I thought. My mom decided soon after she married Marcus that we needed to move. She said that we all needed a fresh start. Against my many pleas, they both decided Indiana was the best place to come. Marcus had heard about this old house from a friend and was insistent that we come here. From what I had seen so far I didn’t even remotely see why, but I couldn’t go against their wishes. For now I was stuck here. My gloomy thoughts were interrupted by my seven-year-old brother Turner jumping onto my back from inside the car. We both tumbled to the ground, him laughing, me cursing. Leaves flew up in the air as we landed with a thud. “Oh my gosh Turner!” I yelled in frustration pushing him off me. “Would you just grow up already?!” I stood and brushed myself off. “Calm down, Bi,” my mom warned. Her temper could flare up worse than mine especially when it came to defending Turner. Turner blushed. “I was just trying to have a little fun.” “Well that wasn’t the way to do it,” I snapped and walked around the house. “Bianca, come back here!” I heard my mom yell. I didn’t respond. I didn’t even look back. Turning the corner, I walked into the backyard. It wasn’t anything special. A little red shed was stationed on the left in front of the woods. The grass was barely seen below all the leaves. A dog was settled behind a tree to my right. I froze in fear, but soon realized the dog wasn’t moving. I walked around cautiously. “Just what I need,” I mumbled, stepping up to the ceramic golden retriever. “A dog statue to freak me out.” I looked into the colorful foliage behind the house and saw a path in the trees. Surveying behind me to make sure my Turner didn’t follow me, I slowly roamed into the woods via the winding path. Leaves crunched under my sneakers with each step. The trees surrounding me looked like they were from some scenic picture. This was my first time ever actually being in a woods. I was from the city which meant I only saw nature through the lens of a photographer. After a few minutes I reached the end of the trail; all that was at the end was a corn field. “Of course.” I muttered. “That’s all there is in stinkin Indiana.” “It was enough for me,” A boy’s small whisper sounded beside me. I whirled to the left, expecting to see Turner, but found no one. Confused, my gaze drifted further. Five feet away, there was a swing hanging on a low branch, on which a little boy slouched; he couldn’t have been older than Turner. My stomach tightened at the thought. His brown hair was tangled, his eyes focused forward on the field. “This is where it happened.” He didn’t look at me. It almost seemed like he was just muttering to himself. Like he didn’t know I was there. “What happened?” I asked, stepping closer to the swing, though every nerve in my body told me not to do so. He turned his head towards me and made eye contact. I gasped. Two black orbs served as his eyes. I escaped his eyes, but couldn’t look away from him. Blood wet his neck from a wound that extended from side to side; no doubt someone had slit his throat. “This is where he killed me,” the boy whispered. I shrieked in horror, and ran back down the path. I felt the contents of my stomach come forward, but I forced them back down. I tried to make sense of it as I ran. Surely if the boy had really had his throat slit he wouldn’t be sitting there. That only left the possibility that he was a ghost. I couldn’t accept that either. None of my ideas made sense, but I knew I had to get away. Bursting into the yard, I didn’t stop until I reached the back door. It was locked so I just slumped down on the step sucking in air. I looked back to the path and saw the boy sitting at the edge of the woods petting the dog statue. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said. He was all the way on the other side of the yard, but I could somehow hear him. His eyes seemed to pierce into me. The same eyes that had instilled horror inside me seemed to have softened. He looked sad like a boy who had lost his way in a crowd. I knew I should’ve been screaming and running and leaving this blasted place—the boy’s black eyes and slit throat should’ve been a clear sign—but instead I hastened forward towards him, breathing hard. I thought that maybe I could help this lost boy. I plopped down beside the ceramic dog and him. “This dog isn’t real,” I said. His hand stopped for a second, but then he continued. “I know.” His voice was high and sad. “It reminds me of the dog I used to have. He was a little golden retriever. Just a puppy when I first got him. Full of life. His name was Cletus.” “What’s your name?” “Sam. Well it was before we both were killed.” “What are you talking about? You aren’t dead. You are right here.” “I am dead. My soul just couldn’t find rest after what happened. After he killed us all.” “Who killed you?” I asked. “My father,” he replied sullenly. A tear rolled down his face. “He’s not going to stop. You better get out of here before he comes back.” Chills went up my spine. “Your father is still around here?” I whispered, looking around skeptically. I knew something was off about this place. “Yep.” “What will he do?” “Do you love your brother?” he asked. I thought of Turner. He was an annoying little punk sometimes, but I didn’t know what I would do without him. I nodded vigorously in reply. “I used to love my sister too, but he took her away from me,” he said, pointing behind me. I turned around slowly and searched for the tree he was gesturing to. Once I found it my whole body went numb. A skeleton hung in a branch of the tree he was pointing to. There was no way of telling if it was a girl or boy from here, but I guessed this was his poor sister. Ratty clothes barely covered her bruised and broken body. Skeletons don’t tell much, but the mouth was open and I imagined the screams echoing as countless horrors were being imposed upon her. I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow and ran towards the house leaving the boy with the fake dog. Marcus stepped out before I reached the back door. “What’s going on?” he asked. “There’s a dead girl in that tree!” I yelled and turned towards it. “Oh my word,” he whispered following my gaze. “Bianca, go call the police.” I pushed past him and found the phone in the living room. My mom and Turner were nowhere in sight, but I didn’t really think about it. I was just focused on calling the police. I grabbed the phone and dialed the number. My trembling body caused me to have to dial a few times before I got the number right. “Yes, officer, please come help right away. There is a body in a tree in our woods!” I blurted out. “Yes thank you officer.” Five minutes after I had told the officer how to find our house, three cop cars screeched into the driveway. I sat on the couch beside Turner. I didn’t want to see that poor girl’s body again. Even now her face was going to be plastered in my mind forever. Plus I had to make sure Turner didn’t try to run out and see what was happening. The sheriff walked into the room after awhile, followed by Marcus and my mom. “Where did you find the body, miss?” he asked. “Turner come here,” Clara ordered, walking forward. He got up obediently and took her hand. She escorted him to his room and shut the door behind them. “What are you talking about?” I hollered once the door closed. “It’s right out there in the tree!” “Show me.” Anger boiled up inside me. I pushed past him and walked to the back door. “Right there!” I pointed, but even then, I saw why he was so skeptical. The body was gone. I turned around fast and looked at him. “I swear it was there.” “It may just have been some people pulling a prank on you,” the sheriff said. “No!” I yelled. “The body was right there! I saw it!” “I’m sure you did. Around Halloween there are always a lot of yahoos out trying to scare people. I’m sorry for that, but you shouldn’t take this to heart. It was surely just a dumb prank.” With that the officer dipped his head and walked back around the house. Disbelief covered my anger and made me want to cry. “You saw it too dad!” I yelled at him once the police had left. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “What are you talking about Bi?” he asked. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Marcus shrugged and then went back into the house. “He took the body Bianca.” I spun around and there was the boy. “You aren’t crazy! He buried my sister’s body to hide it from the police!” “Maybe I am crazy for seeing a little boy who is a dead!” The boy looked at me. “There isn’t time for you to doubt me, Bianca. Your life depends on it. Follow me.” He turned and ran. Reluctantly, I hurried off after him, back down the path, and deeper into the woods. By now the sky was starting to darken. I hugged my arms around myself to keep from the cold. Finally, we came to the swing. Beside it there was dirt worked up from the ground. I stared in astonishment. “It’s him,” the boy whispered. “This man you call Marcus is my father. Be careful Bianca. I don’t want your brother to have to look up at your dead body. I don’t want him to be lonely and forever trapped here like me.” “What do you mean Marcus is your father? That’s impossible!” I yelled. “Dig it up Bianca,” the boy said. I stared at the pile of fresh dirt. “Dig what up?” “My sister’s body! It will be all the prove you need to take him down for good.” “No, I can’t. I trust my father!” I yelled. “Good move.” A deep voice came from behind me. Dread overcame me. I turned around quickly and there stood my father, grinning wickedly. All my fears were confirmed in that one smirk: his denial of the body, the worked up dirt, the boy’s recognition. It all came together. I just didn’t want to believe it. “I don’t know how you found her here, but you are going to be joining her soon enough.” I stumbled backwards looking around for the boy, but he had disappeared. “How could you do this?” I asked numbly. “It’s quite simply really,” he said pointing to the dirt pile. “I married her mother, but the girl was the one I really wanted.” He stopped for a second, but then continued. “Her little brother walked in on us. I gave him the chance to do the same, but he refused. So I killed her in front of him and then killed him.” “How could you do such a horrible thing?” I asked, shaking. “It was his choice. He could’ve enjoyed that night. They both could’ve. Then maybe they both would’ve still been alive. Instead they both chose to defy me. Maybe you and your brother will be smarter than they were.” I cried out in disgust and raced past him, back through the woods, and up to the house, not looking back once. I busted through the back door. “Mom! Mom!” I yelled. “Where are you?! We have to get out of here fast!” I stumbled into the living room and saw my mom sitting on the couch. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling. “Mother!” I ran towards her, but then stopped. Her body seemed untouched except for a red gash on her forehead. Her chest moved up and down. I sighed in relief. “There is nowhere to hide Bi.” I spun around and saw Marcus standing in the doorway. He twirled a butcher knife in his hand. “Get away from me!” I yelled desperately, but Marcus came towards me anyways, a smirk on his face. He found my fear amusing. I backed up as far as I could, but soon ran into a wall. Marcus came up and hit his left hand against the wall behind me. I jumped and he started to chuckle. Consumed with bitterness, I threw a punch intending to hit his face. Marcus caught my arm with his hand that was just on the wall and twisted my wrist sharply. I yelped and tried to take back my wrist. He wouldn’t let go. “Don’t try to fight me,” Marcus snarled. “You might actually enjoy yourself one last time.” “Never. You’re sick!” I growled back, spitting in his face. His amusement died as he brought his knife up to my throat with the hand that wasn’t holding my arm. I froze. “Fine,” he said. “But I will enjoy it all the same. Count on that. And then I will find a new family to become my own. My only regret is that we didn’t get to stay here long. I can fix that problem though. I’ll just make your body harder to find.” His smirk returned as he turned me around still holding the knife to my neck. I struggled, but the knife to my neck sealed my faint. Despite myself, I began to sob. “Get away!” came a yell from behind me. I turned my head and saw Turner standing in the hallway. The little boy stood beside him. “Who’s with Turner?” my father asked. I looked at the two little boys. “You can see him?” I replied. “Yes.” “You don’t remember me father?” the little boy asked back. “Surely you remember your own flesh and blood!” Marcus released the hold on my neck and stumbled towards the door. “No, I killed you. You should be dead,” he stuttered. “I am, but I’m not gone. And I came back here to save this family from your sick interests. And to avenge my mother and sister.” The boy began to walk forward. “No stay away from me!” “You should’ve stayed away from my sister!” the boy shrieked. He crossed the space between them with surprising speed and grabbed the knife out of Marcus’ hand. Turning it slightly, he jabbed it upward into my father’s chest. Roaring with pain, Marcus stumbled out of the room, and out the back door. I ran after, and looked out. He lay motionless in the yard. I turned back around and saw the little boy behind me, smiling. A beautiful girl stood beside him, probably about my age, holding his hand. She wore a white dress and her long blonde hair was perfectly straight. Her face was white, but a smile was fixed upon it. “Now we can be at peace,” the boy whispered. “Thank you Bianca.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there looking at them both. Then they were gone. I blinked a few times, but they didn’t reappear. I looked up from where they had been standing to Turner who was in the hallway shaking. I ran to him and pulled him into myself, not wanting to let go. “You were so brave!” I exclaimed. “I couldn’t let him hurt you,” he mumbled into my ear, still shaking. I kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry Turner. For everything. For snapping at you earlier and for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you.” “It’s okay Bianca.” Tears came to my eyes. “I love you Turner,” I whispered. “I love you too Bianca.”

The Monster Inside of Me – By Abigail Anderson

I want to announce the youngest winner of my “Nightmare Writing Contest” that I hosted on my blog and on my facebook writing page.

Abigail is currently going to school and wants to be a writer someday. I hope you enjoy her story as much as I did. I will be leaving for Australia come January 1st, so I wanted to make sure I got these up for you all! Keep watching and you will see the next one posted tomorrow! (which, will be Emily Kunkel) They will soon be moved to the “Contest” Tab at the top of the web-page. :) I hope that all of you have a lovely NEW YEAR! What are your New Year’s goals and dreams?

The Monster Inside of Me
Short Story by: Abigail Anderson ©

Chapter: 1   

John opened his eyes, he felt odd. He couldn’t see. Everything was black. What was wrong? He tried to move, but couldn’t. He could hear people around him. ‘What’s Wrong With Me?’ He tried to yell- but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. ‘Where was Emily?’ Emily was with him before all of this had happened. John felt a sharp pain in his arm. He tried lifting his arm, but felt something interfering. John continued to pull on his arm; the voices around him grew louder. Every time he pulled, he could feel his arm moving bit by bit. John felt his hands pushing down on his chest. He decided to try sit up, there was even more yelling around him. There was another sharp pain in his shoulder. John was trying to shake the hands off, but the pain kept growing. John started pulling on his other arm, the right one was just going to be amputated, because of all the hands pushing down on it. The left one was actually looser, so in a few yanks and pulls- his left arm was free. He reached up- and blindly tried to grab the hands on his chest. He grabbed one, and pulled until the person let go of him.  He reached up to his face, he felt a rough sort of fabric on his face. He pulled it off, but felt another hand grip his wrist. He reached for the fabric- while the person kept pulling his arm. He kept pulling as hard as he could, but whatever was on his face, wasn’t going to come off easily. Since he couldn’t pull it off he pulled it down over his eyes. When the fabric came down, he opened his eyes. The bright light from above burned his eyes. There were people all around him. He reached up, and pushed all the people off his chest, then brushed all the people’s hands off of his arm. There were only a few still trying to hold him down, but he sat up while pulling his left arm out of what looked like a strap. He looked at the people surrounding him; a few ran as soon as they saw him. John didn’t care if the people were staring at him; he was getting out of here. He tried to move his legs, they wouldn’t move, when he realized that they too were strapped to the table. He reached down, and stared fumbling with the leather straps. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the men charge at him. John put out his arm and knocked the man to the floor. He finished undoing the strap so he could free his legs. John pushed himself off the table, more people ran after him. There were only a few left. John stumbled towards the door, while those people rushed up behind him and grabbed him. He kicked, twisted, and pushed. There was a person on either side of him. One of the men John had knocked down seconds ago stood up in front of him.
“You’ll never escape John Cooper. You have no idea what you are, what I made you. You’ll never control it without us.” The man snapped.
“Watch me.” John Spat.
John used all the strength he had and turned, flinging the two men onto the floor. John turned around and picked up a needle filled with bright blue/green liquid off one of the trays. He turned back towards the open door, and plowed down the man standing in front of him. John stumbled into the hallway. He picked himself up, and started running down the hallway. John had no idea where he was going. John’s heart pounded in his chest. He suddenly stopped. Emily! He needed to find Emily! He turned in a circle.
Where is she? John spotted movement in a room just ahead of him. He ran to the room, and looked inside. A girl whipped around with her eyes wide. John stepped into the room, while closing the door. The girl was literally pressing herself against the wall. John went to her, grabbing her lab coat.
“Where is my sister?” John growled.
The girl shook, “I don’t know!”
“Where is Emily!?” John asked again.
“Please don’t hurt me!” She wailed. This girl was on the verge of crying.
“Well, maybe if you give me some answers, I won’t!”
“Your sister- your sister is down the hall.”
John quickly held up the needle and asked, “What is this?”
The girl’s voice was cracking, “It’s a serum to help you stay alive.”
“To stay alive?”
The Girl Nodded, “The doctor created it to keep you alive during the process”
“What process?” John growled.
A voice broke in the room, “The one I already told you, about!”
John whipped around; the man was standing blocking the entrance to the hallway.
“I told you John, I made you what you are now.”
“Enough!” John yelled.
The “Doctor” was stepping towards him, “Come on John, don’t you want to know what I made you? Can’t you feel it inside you?”
“No. I don’t want to know.”
The Doctor laughed, “John, I know that’s a lie. You want to know everything about who you are and what you are.
“No!” John yelled, running for the door.
The Doctor didn’t even bother stopping him. John pushed open the door, and started running. He needed to find Emily, and get out of here. He looked in every room. Nothing. A closed door, lead to a room at the end of the hall, the door was closed. John ran to the door pushing it open.
“Emily-” John whispered.
John slowly walked to the table. Emily was laying there. All around him were empty needles. Just a few still had the liquid in them. He looked back at Emily, she too was strapped to the table. Fabric covered her eyes. John slowly stepped to the table; he reached out and touched Emily’s arm- ice cold.
“No-” He whispered.
John looked at Emily’s face, her mouth was open- he reached out and slowly slid the fabric off her eyes.
“Noooooooo!” He wailed. “No, Emily!”
Emily’s eyes were wide open, but the smell of death filled John’s nostrils. He stumbled backwards in disbelief. He looked around the room and heard yelling. He needed to go now! There was a bag sitting on the chair by Emily. He quick took it off the chair, and dumped all the papers out of it. John picked up all the full needles, and stuffed them in his bag. He threw it over his shoulder and looked back at Emily one last time.
“I’m sorry Emily-” He whispered and then headed for the door. But something stopped him. He looked down at the papers that had fallen out of the bag. One of the papers titles was “Project: Monster” He kneeled down and picked up the paper. Maybe these papers would be useful. He didn’t have time to look through them all; he picked them all up and stuffed them in his bag. He opened the door and looked down the hallway, no one. He shut the door behind himself. His heart was beating so loudly he could feel it in his throat, he just couldn’t believe it. He tried to remember where the doors were that he he had been held in. He started running and hooked a left at the end of the hallway. The image of Emily’s body raced through his mind. He then turned left at the second hallway. He could see the doors and ran as hard as he could, and pushed on the doors, but it was locked. He looked around, what was he going to do? He saw a chair. He picked it up, and went aimed it, and threw it shattering the glass. He jumped through the hole in the glass door and landed, while feeling a sharp pain in his foot, he looked down and realized he had been barefooted the whole time. He felt the bottom of his foot, a piece of glass had gotten stuck in his foot, and he quickly pulled it out and then set his foot on the ground. It hurt so bad, he picked up the chair and threw it again, at the second set of glass doors. The glass shattered again. He looked for glass as he jumped through this time. John held on to the bag as he stumbled out into the street, he started running again. His foot throbbed in pain, as the sunlight blinded him, but he kept on running. He needed to get as far away as he could from that place. Also as far away from that Doctor, and the experiments, and that also meant away from Emily.

Chapter: 2  

John lay down on the grass of the park, his chest was heaving and his foot was throbbing. He had just run about half way across town dodging people, cars, and just about everything else. Somehow, he felt weak- maybe it was just shock? With the combination of running that far? His foot? He sat back up and opened the bag, the papers and the needles were still there. He took one of the needles out. What is this stuff? The doctor said that it kept him alive. Could it make him stronger?
There was only one way to find out, what did he have to lose? He brought up his arm and squeezed that area of skin where he slowly pushed the needle. It pinched as he sucked in a deep, sharp breath. He pushed the liquid though the needle, into his arm. After the liquid was gone, he pulled the needle straight out. He waited- nothing was happening. Suddenly, he felt a shock of power through his body. He breathed in and stood up. His foot didn’t hurt anymore. What’s Happening To Me? He thought. He walked to the building next to the park, and stared at his reflection in the window. He felt different. He didn’t feel weak anymore, but felt different somehow. John looked more closely at his face, something was different. His eyes were blue- not brown. His natural color was brown. He looked a little closer and he saw that his eyes were flickering in between blue and brown. He looked at the empty needle in his hands. What is this stuff? What did that doctor do? What was he? …Was he a Monster?

He saw a telephone booth not far away and decided he had to do it. He couldn’t disappoint Emily, Not again. He opened the phonebook and searched for Jessix’s number and found it. He put a quarter in and dialled the number. It rang three times before he picked up.
“Hey Jessix, its John.”
“John? John Cooper?”
John was looking over his shoulder, “Yeah… hi. umm, I was wondering if you’d help me.”
Jessix’s voice had a small nervous tone to it, “With what?”
“Jessix… I can’t tell you…,” He paused, “I’ll have to show you.”
“Jessix? Do you still live in the apartment that you lived in when you first graduated?”
“Can I meet you there?”
“Alright! But, you better hurry.”
“Alright. See you there.”
John hung up the phone and turned, Jessix lived near the collage… which he passed… when he ran from the building- and he had to pass his apartment… “No…”
John was walking down the street, he had to face it- he was going against his better judgment- but he had to face it. John had to cross town- passing his apartment- passing the place he had been held earlier that day- and John remembered he had to also pass the police station on the way there. Oh god. This wasn’t going to be pretty.  John pictured a map in his head. He had to pass his apartment first, then the building, then the police station. He had to stay in the dark, not to be seen. He couldn’t risk something like that. He couldn’t risk getting caught.
First destination. John watched his apartment form an alley. Amazingly- he was wrong about what was there. John had thought there would have been at least 10-15 police cars, but there wasn’t. There was only a black van. But he figured to just ignore it, but he couldn’t be too relaxed. He watched the apartment as he sneaked by, he felt like a criminal- maybe he was… and he didn’t like it.  He finally broke the glare, and stated running down the street. Sudden panic had struck him. That black van had started down the street. ‘I Can’t Do It! I Can’t Do It!’ His mind screamed. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t. People looked at him as he ran past. A man with blood running down his face, barefoot, changing color eyes, and dirt all over him; bolting down the street. He was a criminal. That’s why he was running. He was a criminal. Second destination, but this time- there were a bunch of cars there, but John didn’t stop. He bolted past, dodging everything. ‘Two Times in One Day.’ Third destination, there were only a few cars, but if he could hide before they saw him… that could work. Nope. He just kept running. He didn’t want to stop. He kept running. He ran across the road, a truck he ran right in front of honked his horn as loud as he could, and John jumped onto the collage yard. John stumbled, but kept moving. He wasn’t going to stop before he got to Jessix’s. He ran across the collage yard, almost running into 5 college students. They all stared as he ran by. John looked up; Jessix’s apartment was just up there.  John went to the building, and ran in, the man at the counter tried to stop him, but John couldn’t hear anything. His head was pounding. He ran up the stairs, two at a time. He had to get to the 4th floor as soon as possible. John counted as he passed the floors, ‘Second… Third… Fourth…’  He ran up the last few stairs, then turned into the hallway. John ran down the hall, looking for Jessix’s apartment. He turned the corner, and stopped in his tracks. John believed that this was Jessix’s apartment. He pounded his fist on the door. The door suddenly opened and hands grabbed his shirt and drug him into the apartment.

Chapter 3:
John landed on the floor and heard the door slam shut.
“Are you crazy?!” a voice exclaimed, “There’s a warrant out for you!”
John smiled, “Good to see you too Jessix.”
Jessix took John’s hand and helped him up, “Sorry man, It’s just so weird.” Jessix looked behind John, “Where’s Emily?”
John’s head drooped, “Jessix, I have to tell you something…”
After John was done explaining to Jessix, Jessix stared at John. “So… what your saying is… You’re like a Monster?”
John nodded, then turning to the bag. “These papers say so.” Taking out the papers, then taking out the needles. “And These Needles Are Like A Power Boost or Something.”
Jessix took a needle, “I could analyze these, and make more for you so you don’t run out.”
John smiled, “That’s why I love ya’ Jess.”
Jessix got up and went to a back room, John got up and followed. Jessix was squeezing the liquid onto a tray, “John, I’m going to need a DNA sample from you also.”
“Can’t you just take it off my face?” John laughed.
Jessix grabbed a clean needle from his drawer, and went over to John, “Alright, just let me get at your wrist…” Jessix shoved the needle into John’s arm, drawing that deep red blood from his veins. Jessix pulled it out of his arm, getting almost a full needle of blood.
“Hey, you good so far?” John asked, “Cause’ I wanted to go see something quick.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jessix Replied, “But clean up before you go, they’ll know your suspicious if you have dirt and blood all over your face with no shoes. And just take a pair of mine.”
Jessix threw John a towel, which John wiped all the blood from his face, and slipped on a pair of shoes.
“I’ll be back in a minute Jess.” John said, walking towards the door.
“I’m just going to go through these papers and analyze this.” Jessix called back.

‘Where was the black van? The cop cars?’ John asked himself as he walked up the flight of stairs. John had gone back to his apartment; he needed to know what they had done to his home. John got to his room, and the door was slightly open just a crack. John hesitated, but pushed open the door. As John walked in, his jaw dropped.
Papers were flung all over the floor, all the cabinet doors and drawers were wide open, his desk was on its side, everything was scattered across the floor. John kicked a pile of debris, and heard a rather heavy thump. John looked back and knelt down, pushing aside a few papers, a broken photo frame with a photo of him and Emily. The glass was shattered, John looked around again, there was other things he remembered; like Emily’s vase with her favorite flowers in it was shattered across the floor, all of their pictures were thrown off the wall, Emily’s homework for collage was in ruins, John saw that their clothes had been thrown out into the hallway. It’s was a complete mess. John couldn’t clean this up now. He had to go back and check on Jessix. He Needed Answers.

“Jessix!” John called, stepping in the room, “Jess, did you figure it out?” The room was silent. “Come on Jess, no time to fool around.” The apartment was still silent. John stepped back towards the back room. “Jess?” It was still silent. Something was wrong. He stepped into the back room, and John got the same smell as in the building, Death. “Jess?!”  John looked down, and stumbled backwards, “No…”
Jessix’s body was on the ground. Bullet wounds showed in his shirt, and blood showed through his shirt. John was gasping for air, he couldn’t believe it. Not again. First Emily, now Jessix. John looked up on the wall, there was spray-paint covering the walls. It Read:
John Cooper, Surrender Or You Will Have To Pay Another Price. Another Life.
John was shaking. What was this? Who? Then it hit him harder than a bag of bricks. He knew why. He knew who. Rage boiled over the top.

John gripped the needle, and held up his arm. A spot on John’s arm was black. Almost like a tattoo. It looked like a sick, twisted cross. In the same spot that Jessix had drawn blood. John closed his eyes, and shoved the needle into his arm. He felt the liquid rush through his body, and he dropped the needle and watched it go down… down… down… John peered down on the street. He was standing on the top of the building. Ready to jump, jump to his death- or not. He didn’t know yet what he was, so he had to try. What did he have to lose? Both Jessix and Emily were dead, why not him? John looked down once more, and stepped off. John felt the wind rustle through his hair, he felt as if he was flying. John closed his eyes just before hitting the ground.

Chapter 4:
John could see bright lights through his eyelids, ‘Am I in Heaven? I Sure Hope So.’ John moved his arm but never opened his eyes.
“Emily?” he moaned.
John heard a voice, “Oh my god. He’s still alive.”
“What?” John opened his eyes. The sunlight blinded him, but he saw the outline of three people.
“My god… He is alive.”
John tried to sit up, “Where am I? What happened?”
One of the people spoke up, “You’re outside, on the Collage lawn. We saw you jump off the building.”
John could see them a little better, “Am I still alive?”
The one girl let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, apparently.”
John cursed under his breath and tried to get up.
“Whoa, you might not want to try that.”
John got up, and straightened. He didn’t feel any different. Except he could honestly feel blood run down his face again, But he wasn’t dead. But he did know who was going to be in a minute. He looked once more at the three people, than took off across the lawn.
John’s mind was racing. He was almost there. Now for sure he called himself a criminal, he was just about to commit something John would have never done before- Murder. He was going to kill the person responsible for killing Emily, killing Jessix, killing the inside of him. And he was so close to it. One more street, The final street. John ran into the alley, looking for the door.
John slowly walked down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible. John quickly crouched down as a person walked out of a room. John’s eyes followed the person all the way around the corner. John- still crouched- followed the person down the other hall, and watched him turn into a room. John listened; he could hear a group of people talking down the hall, plain as day. John straightened, and walked toward the voices. John stopped at a closed door; the voices were coming from here. John just stopped, and listened for a moment.
“So where is this Project of yours?”
“We don’t know, he ran away, but I do know that he’s still in the city. We have every single Trooper, Cop, and Person looking for him.”
“And what is his name? His real one.”
“John Cooper.”
“Was he in any relation to Emily Cooper?”
“Yes, it was his sister.”
John could hear the Doctor’s voice most of all; it made him cringe every time he heard it. John was tired of them talking about him; he was going to kill, now. John kicked open the closed door, and walked in. There was a huge conference table, and had a lot of people sitting around it. All eyes were on him. The Doctor was sitting at the end; everyone on the right side got up and ran to the back of the room. John’s chest was heaving, with rage and anger.
The Doctor slowly got up, “Ah, John. Glad You Could Make It.”
“You killed them.” John spat, “You killed Emily and Jessix.”
“Yes… but-”
“But what? They were in the way of killing me? You killed everything I had! And you’re going to pay the price for that!”  John moved to the table and shoved it to the wall, almost crushing the people that were sitting in the chairs.
The Doctor looked at the table, “Alright, John. calm down.”    John went to the Doctor and seized him around the throat, “Give me one good reason to not snap your fragile little neck.”
“I.” he stuttered, barely able to speak, “I can tell you everything, I can teach you how to control it.”
John loosened his grip.
The Doctor continued, “All your senses are heightened. You can’t die, you can hear ten times better than a normal person, you can see in the dark, you have a longer adrenalin rush, You’re better than a normal person.”
John was barely holding on to the Doctor’s throat, “And the liquid?”
“The serum will keep you strong till your body can do t on its own- and by that time you’ll have a mark.”
John held up his wrist, “Like this?”
The Doctor stared at the cross, “Yes. Like that.”
John let go of the Doctor’s throat, but stared deep into his eyes, “You’ll teach me. But if you slip up just once- I will snap your neck, and kill all of your friends. Got me?”
The Doctor stared back, “Yes. Welcome to the other side John Cooper.”

The light is at the end of the tunnel and… I believe I am seeing it!!! :) YAY!!! 16,649 words left… :)

I just was thinking that I would leave a new post saying that I am currently at 16,649 words left of “The Created Ones” full manuscript. I am currently writing my last chapter to the book and I have decided that when I go back through the first draft that I will get a good feel on rewriting parts and adding or taking certain things out of it. It has been interesting as I have been writing some dark things, that i have found myself going through some of the same issues as my characters. As a writer, do you ever find yourself battling with what your characters are dealing with?

6 days till I see, my Johan! :) YAYYYY!!!!!!


Don’t do what everyone else is doing! :) Finish that book…

I read this awesome nugget of great information from Jeff Goins blog! It’s a wonderful writing blog, I thought I would post this and encourage you all to chase after your dreams. To finish that novel, and work on it during the Holidays, but of course spend that precious time with those you love and dedicate some time later while “nothing is stirring, (in the house) not even a mouse…” to that manuscript. :) I had planned to finish my novel on the 27th… but I have no idea if it will be done at 80,000 words by then. :P But, I am going to try shoot for a few thousand words tonight. :)

Don’t Go On Vacation

In many parts of the world, we’re getting ready to celebrate Christmas. Even for those not observing the holiday, many are about to take off a week (or more) of work. Families will get together to exchange gifts, eat food, and nap excessively. A lot of my online friends are encouraging you to rest, to take a social media break and be present to those you love. Yes, do that. Be present. Be available. But don’t go on autopilot.
One Way to Get Ahead
Have you ever seen the movie Iron Will? It’s your typical “underdog” story about a young man who enters a cross-country dogsled race to beat the odds and save his family.
Do you know what he does to succeed? It’s simple: Each night, he shaves an extra hour of sleep off his schedule, until the last night when he doesn’t sleep at all.
When others are sleeping, he is working. And he wins.
This is one way to break out of the constant feeling of falling behind: Work harder; show up more often. It’s not easy. It will require sacrifice. But it will also bring about results.
What If You Did This?
During a season when much of the world is going to sleep, what if you didn’t? What if you tackled that manuscript you’ve been procrastinating working on? What if you got up early or stayed up late? What if you started a new project, read a book for fun, or started working out? This is the secret to beating the status quo: Don’t do what everyone else is doing. Do what you know you need to do. This Isn’t for Everyone

Some people will read this and get the wrong idea.They’ll think I am advocating for workaholism or antisocial behavior. Not at all.What I am encouraging is for you to live a life you won’t regret. So many times, I’ve wasted my energy on things that don’t matter. I’ve squandered opportunities with distractions and comforts that didn’t add up to much in the long-run. This season, I’m compelled to be different — to pursue my passion and create a life I don’t have to escape from. Yes, I’m going to enjoy myself. I’m going to rest up, turn off email, and eat some sweets. But I’m also going to finish my book. I’m going to run five times a week. And I’m going to write as many blog posts as I can, so that I can begin the New Year ahead of schedule, not behind.

This may not be for you. You may need to take some much-needed rest. And if so, please do that without one ounce of guilt. But for those who have projects we know we need to work on, I hope we find a way to invest in our passions. They’re worth it, aren’t they?

I would love to encourage you with what Jeff has said. What are you working on this season?  Please leave a comment with a brief explanation of your project, It’s always cool to hear what’s going on in your world so that I know that I am not alone! :P

Have a wonderful & Merry Christmas,


Christmas Eve… My thankful list

Hello Everyone,
Today I woke up to snow. :) Just possibly, we might have a WHITE Christmas. I really do hope that we do! :) It would be lovely. My sister and I went shopping together in Fargo today. It was a lovely last day of Christmas shopping. We found some sweet things. You know, I never realized how lucky I am… well, not lucky, but Blessed I am. I have all I would want for Christmas this year. I have a Lord and Savior who came to earth to die just so that I could know peace and live everyday for him, while being a light of his to the world. I have a family who believe in me and love me. They have encouraged me, my whole life. “Devin, you can do anything that you want to. The sky is the limit.” And you know what? They were right. I have a sister and brother who I love heaps and are two of my best friends, no actually, they ARE my two best friends. They mean the world to me. Life without them would have been quite different for me. That little sister who I always loved telling stories to, telling her about things and why the world was a certain way- only for her to find out later that I was using my imagination quite a bit. The little sister who played the “Second Best” parts in the plays I put on for family. That little sister who said she saved me when I fell off the inner-tube at swimming lessons. :)  That little brother of mine who had an imagination bigger than the world. The ‘put’ ‘put’ of his little cars and trucks and the ‘psh’ ‘psh’ of his little plastic army men.
We did everything together, we traveled the country with Mom and Dad. Not a day goes by that I miss those little siblings… even though they are here still today and whenever I see them, I still see those 2 sweet faces that grew up with me and loved and even sometimes loved to hate (only sometimes). I am so happy that they are both here still for me in life and that no matter what happens in the future – that they will still be there for me.
I am also so blessed for such an amazing mother and father. I know that I wasn’t ever a perfect child (and who is?), but I am grateful that my parents raised me the way they did. They taught me many things about the world, the Lord, Love, and people in the world. I know that sometimes I may be short or snappy with them, but all in all, I haven’t ever meant it. I deeply and greatly thankful for them the whole way- back to every diaper changed, and hot cocoa made for me. I love them so much! :)
There is someone else that has made it into my thankful list, he is new to my list of thankfullnesses… His name is Johan. I met him over a year and 3 months ago. He has become a huge part of my life and I am very thankful for him as well. He has encouraged me, hugged me, loved me, written me love notes and cared about me for 1 year and I feel like I’ve known him longer. I look forward to spending more years together. I greatly love him. This year we spent together was filled up with many great memories that I hold very dear to me from painting on the beach, ballet on the beach :P and deep conversations and even some funny conversations (That only we would ever talk about – don’t try guessing! LOL… you will never guess correctly.) Many thousands of skype dates and facebook notes. Many tears and many moments of laughter & Joy as well. A trip through America and building our relationship to last throughout any storm, since we were made to bare through it as we were separated by that blasted ocean. Right now he is in South Africa. He spent the first few weeks with his brother and his fiance. He is now at his sister’s house celebrating Christmas with them and his grand-parents. I am happy that he got to spend time with them and pray that they have a great time together. :) In 9 days, I will see him again. It almost feels weird to say that, because it’s been sooooo lonng since I last saw him. I will be meeting him in Singapore. “Am I nervous?” you ask.
“Yes, I am!” I really don’t know what this year holds. I do know that it holds me entering a journey that is unmarked. I do know that I will write and that I WILL find an agent this year. I know that I will look for a job (And will find one- a good one!) in Australia, and that I will find an apartment to stay at.
I will get to spend an amazing year in Australia with Johan. Which, I am very excited about!!
My comfort spot is always a tough thing to break though. I am comfortable, right now sitting on my parents couch at 3 am writing in my baggy sweater and sweat-pants…. this is such a big world, am I ready to take it on? Am, I Devin Berglund ready? Because God has something big for me in my life.

It’s like the moment I went to Mexico all by myself when I was 14 on a mission trip – I secretly didn’t want to leave home. I wanted to stay home with Momma, Daddy, Tony, and Cassidy. I didn’t want to leave.
Just the same with the time that I graduated from High-School and when my dad teared up at my graduation speech… I also did too. I didn’t want to leave them all and go to college. but I had too….
Just like the night I moved into my dorm as a freshman at MSUM, I cried myself to sleep that night. I didn’t want to be staying in a dorm with someone i didn’t know. I wanted to be with them.
Just the same when I started thinking about studying abroad in Australia and I kept telling myself no.
Daddy told me to do it – so I did.
The moment we brought my sister to Milwaukee Ballet for a summer intensive (seems like yesterday) I didn’t want to leave her there. I loved her too much, I didn’t want her there, I wanted her- here with me.
The moment I left to board my plane and my mom broke into tears- that moment, i didn’t want to be leaving to Australia on a life time adventure… I wanted to be staying with all of them.
So, life continues throwing at us new adventures were we wont be in our comfort-zone and I hate writing that, because I don’t want to. I want to say- don’t sweat it. It’s a piece of cherry pie. But, then I would be lying and I don’t want that.
I am excited about going to Australia again, although I am torn. I really love Johan and I miss him. I will miss my family a lot! I know that God has a lot of interesting stuff ahead and I know that we all must grow up. Even though, I wish we didn’t have to. But, I don’t want to grow up and live in the play-house either (Guess, what? I had actually said that once!) haha!!! :P

Peter Pan “I wont grow up.”

I, have come to terms that I, Devin Berglund am a blessed girl and that I am LUCKY. I was given everything I need and I have it. So, really people- I wouldn’t need anything for Christmas this year, because I am happy!

P.S. Sorry, Mom… while writing this I was thinking… Momma, is going to read this, I hope she doesn’t cry… So, I am sorry if it made you cry at all. I don’t like seeing you cry, but I wanted to write the truth. I am soooo thankful for everything you did in my life. Thank you for listening to my kindergarten teacher when she told you that tid-bit of information. I am so happy you let me morph into the creature that I am and who God made me- Because of that, I am writing, I have a lovely family that I LOVE DEARLY, and because of that I have a man i love and who loves me too.

Thank you everyone, my readers… I am thankful for all of you as well.

Merry Christmas!!
Hope you all, already have what you need this Christmas!!

Be Blessed!

Devin +

“The Reason For The Season Was Born In A Manger.”

Poor Unfortunate Souls… In Pain… In Need…

“Poor Unfortunate Soul? I think not…”

Ursala… you know her, right? I was talking to one of my friends tonight about “The Little Mermaid” and about something that a preacher once said to me! It was probably over 3 years ago when I was still in school at Minnesota State University of Moorhead and when I went to a lovely church in Fargo called “First Assembly” (great church to visit if you are in the Fargo-Moorhead area!) But, anyways, they had a guest pastor/speaker from Las Vegas and it was my first time hearing him speak and I went up to him to pray for me about something and he started by praying for me, but half way through he said, “Oh and God wants me to tell you something…” I was like… WOW!!! Really??….
“Devin, God has seen your pain with what you went through in middle school. When you were picked on by other children. God wants you to know that you have a story to tell… (I was hooked from the first sentence.) But, Satan wants to steal your voice. Like Ursala and how she stole Ariel’s voice, from “The Little Mermaid”. Don’t let him steal your voice, because you have a story to tell that will reach many.”

That night, I was just blown away, literally. I didn’t know this man from Adam, and how did he know that I had been bullied? How did he know that “The Little Mermaid” was my favorite story? How did he know to compare her to me? It wasn’t him that knew it was the great HIM that knew. Jesus KNEW and tonight when I was speaking to my friend about all this, God reminded me that I really shouldn’t worry about pathetic stuff, because when I allow myself to worry about ‘crap’ I really am letting the devil steal my voice and time that I can be using to tell the story with instead.
So, why do I let the devil steal my voice? Will I continue to? I DON’T THINK SO!!!! I never realized how much this fits with my life story. I have always been a worrier and I hate it. But, here, if you have some time watch this song from “The Little Mermaid”- Poor Unfortunate Souls
This is the exact same way that Satan tries to steal voices, and then look and see what we become if he get’s our voices – poor unfortunate souls who are stuck to Ursala’s cave entrance- suffering in their dreadful conditions, doubts, fears, and worries. We all need to take a stand and say no.

“Come on you poor unfortunate soul-
Go ahead!
Make your choice!
I’m a very busy woman and I haven’t got all day
It won’t cost much
Just your voice!
You poor unfortunate soul
It’s sad but true
If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet
You’ve got the pay the toll
Take a gulp and take a breath
And go ahead and sign the scroll
Flotsam, Jetsam, now I’ve got her, boys
The boss is on a roll
This poor unfortunate soul…”

Thank God, that isn’t me… I will speak with my voice and I will share my story!

Thank you for having the lovely conversation, Emily. :)


“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” – Romans 12:1-2

…the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.

I have been listening to the audio books of “The Screwtape Letters” by C.S. Lewis. I so, badly wish that I could have met C.S. Lewis. Sometime after my trip to Australia I want to make a way back to England and see the C.S. Lewis house. It’s just amazing how you can feel like you know a writer from their writing voice. I want to make a difference on a person’s life like C.S. Lewis made a difference in my life.

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” 
― C.S. Lewis

Have you ever felt that way? I remember always feeling that way when I was in high-school. I was always a little different than the other kids. I always made friends with the under-dogs and maybe I could have been considered an under-dog as well. I didn’t want to be like everyone else and I guess I never was. In high-school I went through some of the loneliest times in my life. I remember coming home from school crying because, I didn’t have many friends. I hid behind the covers of books… Narnia was definitely some of them and I definitely found myself wishing for a greater place, like Narnia. A place where people would except me for who I was. Every once in a while I feel that same way- that wishing I could escape to another place where I could just fellowship with the Lord. Leave the land of people hating others, and stress and drama.

I have been busy writing a lot of my evil characters lately and it has caused a lot of mental and spiritual drain on me today. When you write dark stuff, if ever? Does it affect you in an such ways?

“We Christian writers must paint evil with the blackest of brushes, not to sow fear, but to call out the monsters to be scattered by our light. If Satan cloaks himself as an angel of white, intent on deceiving the world, any attempt on our parts to minimize evil is only complicit with his strategy… Turn to the light; don’t fear the shadows it creates.” -Ted Dekker (At least Ted knows my feeling!)

“It isn’t Narnia, you know,” sobbed Lucy. “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?”
“But you shall meet me, dear one,” said Aslan.
“Are -are you there too, Sir?” said Edmund.
“I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.” -The Voyage of the Dawn Treader – C.S. Lewis

So, I hope this note of inspiring quotes and a little bit of my backstory all find you well and living blessed! :) I have thought about writing a memoir about my past… would that be something you all would be interested in?