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fandomhigh2009-06-18 10:02 am
grand-fallguy.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2009-06-18 10:02 am
Entry tags:
Storytelling, Thursday June 18th
The class met today in the Danger Shop, so Tim could set the proper mood.
Upon entering, the kids would find themselves in a dark, moonless night. Crickets, owls, and frogs could be heard softly in the trees, as they made their way down a short, narrow path. The trees were dense, and it was impossible to see more than a few feet into them.
But soon enough they would find the clearing with the cabins, and a big roaring fire with all the usual things for toasting.
"Ghost stories..." Tim began once everyone had arrived. "The name is a bit misleading because not all, in fact I think comparatively few scary stories are actually about ghosts. But mankind has always had a kind of dread fascination, with fear. With scaring themselves, and their friends. Filling the darkness around them, with all sorts of things that want to do us harm."
As he spoke, one might notice, that the sounds of the night around them, were fading.
"These days most stories are told without any pretense of them being true. People are so 'rational' and cynical today that they find it hard to believe in strange things. But then most people have never been to Fandom. So who knows?"
He rose, then, holding a long, gnarled walking stick.
"Not too far from here, is an area called Cabin John. It's a reletively rural area, given it's proximity to DC, but in my travels I've seen old spooky farmhouses in the middle of a heavy residential area.
"There's a park there, with a rather unusual feature. On a hill back in the woods, there's a set of steps. These stairs go down the hill to an old foundation with a huge crack straight down the middle. Now what's truely unusual about these stairs, is that the mortar their made out of is mixed marbles, scissors, bottles, jars, and other things. Because of this they've been dubbed, the Marble Stairs.
"The foundation belonged to an old house that once stood on the property. No one lived there except an old woman. She lived alone, and no one knew much about her. Even the oldest person in the area said she'd lived there when they moved in.
"The woman had a reputation for being a witch. Well that wasn't unusual, old women living by themselves were usually believed to be a witch. Most people thought she was just an eccentric. Living alone for a long time could do that to you afterall. She had a routine, that she followed without fail. Every day, she would go for a walk. And she took with her, a large sack, and her walking stick."
He held out the stick he was holding. "Kind of like this one. And she would walk along, and every now and then, she would stop, and she would whack-" He suddenly struck a nearby log with the stick, making a sharp whacking sound. "A tree, or a bush with it. And a squirrel, or a raccoon would fall out, knocked out. She picked it up, and put it in her sack. She'd do this until the sack was full, and then she'd go home.
"'What's she doing with all those animals?' People wondered. 'That's more than an old woman like her could eat all by herself, but she never has any vistors.' Some speculated that she saved the meat. But she went out every day.
"One day, a young boy who's curiosity was stronger than his fear, snuck up to the house after the old woman had finished her walk. He crept up to a window, and looked in. The house was so old that it was only one room. Against one wall was a stove and a table. Against another was a bed, and shelves took up the other two walls. But the center of the floor was bare.
"As the boy watched, the old woman drew a triangle on the floor with her stick." Tim used the end of his stick to draw a triangle on the ground before him, and then tapped the center of the triangle with the end of his stick. "Just like that. And a triangular hole opened up in the floor. The old woman dumped the back of animals into the hole, and then tapped the floor beside it three times." He demonstrated. "And the hole closed back up. The boy ran back home as fast as he could and told all his friends, and his parents what he'd seen, but not many people believed him.
"A few months later, three men got it into their heads that the old woman might have soemthing valuable hidden in her house. And they resolved to go to the house while she was out, and see. These were rather disreputable men as you might guess. They'd often been causing problems in the area.
"Two men entered the house, leaving the third as lookout. He was very practiced in this job, but somehow he did not notice the old woman returning until it was too late to raise an alarm. 'Well that's okay.' he thought. 'She's just an old woman, what could she do to two able bodied men?'
He waited for sounds of a confrontation. Maybe even a dying scream from the old woman. But he heard nothing. And his friends, didn't come back out. He waited for an hour, but nothing. Finally he went to the same window the little boy had stood at. From there you could see the entire cabin. His friends were gone. There was nowhere they could have been hidden. He remembered the little boy's story, and, terrified, he ran. And he was never seen in Cabin John again.
"Years went by, and one day, the old woman's closest neighbor noticed that she hadn't come out for her walk. He wasn't afraid of her, even if she was a witch because she never hurt anyone, so he went to check on her. He found her, unable to get out of bed, sick, and trembling. He quickly got her to a hospital, though she protested all the way.
"'I have to feed my pet.' she'd say in a hoarse whisper. The doctors wouldn't let her leave, saying she was too badly off. 'I have to feed my pet.' She insisted. They assured her her pet would be taken care of, but when they sent someone by the house but of course they found no sign of any pet.
"'She's senile.' they decided. 'Tell her her pet is fine so she'll calm down and get better.' But she didn't calm down, and she didn't get better. About a week later, she died. Her last words were..."
At this, Tim's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "'Don't...let it...get out...'
"Not long after, a huge storm swept through the area, damaging homes, knocking down trees, flooding out streets, and the old woman's house, old as it was, fell into the creek below. And the foundation split. Right through the middle."
He looked at them all gravely. "And whatever was in there...got out."
[Please wait for OCD is up.]
Upon entering, the kids would find themselves in a dark, moonless night. Crickets, owls, and frogs could be heard softly in the trees, as they made their way down a short, narrow path. The trees were dense, and it was impossible to see more than a few feet into them.
But soon enough they would find the clearing with the cabins, and a big roaring fire with all the usual things for toasting.
"Ghost stories..." Tim began once everyone had arrived. "The name is a bit misleading because not all, in fact I think comparatively few scary stories are actually about ghosts. But mankind has always had a kind of dread fascination, with fear. With scaring themselves, and their friends. Filling the darkness around them, with all sorts of things that want to do us harm."
As he spoke, one might notice, that the sounds of the night around them, were fading.
"These days most stories are told without any pretense of them being true. People are so 'rational' and cynical today that they find it hard to believe in strange things. But then most people have never been to Fandom. So who knows?"
He rose, then, holding a long, gnarled walking stick.
"Not too far from here, is an area called Cabin John. It's a reletively rural area, given it's proximity to DC, but in my travels I've seen old spooky farmhouses in the middle of a heavy residential area.
"There's a park there, with a rather unusual feature. On a hill back in the woods, there's a set of steps. These stairs go down the hill to an old foundation with a huge crack straight down the middle. Now what's truely unusual about these stairs, is that the mortar their made out of is mixed marbles, scissors, bottles, jars, and other things. Because of this they've been dubbed, the Marble Stairs.
"The foundation belonged to an old house that once stood on the property. No one lived there except an old woman. She lived alone, and no one knew much about her. Even the oldest person in the area said she'd lived there when they moved in.
"The woman had a reputation for being a witch. Well that wasn't unusual, old women living by themselves were usually believed to be a witch. Most people thought she was just an eccentric. Living alone for a long time could do that to you afterall. She had a routine, that she followed without fail. Every day, she would go for a walk. And she took with her, a large sack, and her walking stick."
He held out the stick he was holding. "Kind of like this one. And she would walk along, and every now and then, she would stop, and she would whack-" He suddenly struck a nearby log with the stick, making a sharp whacking sound. "A tree, or a bush with it. And a squirrel, or a raccoon would fall out, knocked out. She picked it up, and put it in her sack. She'd do this until the sack was full, and then she'd go home.
"'What's she doing with all those animals?' People wondered. 'That's more than an old woman like her could eat all by herself, but she never has any vistors.' Some speculated that she saved the meat. But she went out every day.
"One day, a young boy who's curiosity was stronger than his fear, snuck up to the house after the old woman had finished her walk. He crept up to a window, and looked in. The house was so old that it was only one room. Against one wall was a stove and a table. Against another was a bed, and shelves took up the other two walls. But the center of the floor was bare.
"As the boy watched, the old woman drew a triangle on the floor with her stick." Tim used the end of his stick to draw a triangle on the ground before him, and then tapped the center of the triangle with the end of his stick. "Just like that. And a triangular hole opened up in the floor. The old woman dumped the back of animals into the hole, and then tapped the floor beside it three times." He demonstrated. "And the hole closed back up. The boy ran back home as fast as he could and told all his friends, and his parents what he'd seen, but not many people believed him.
"A few months later, three men got it into their heads that the old woman might have soemthing valuable hidden in her house. And they resolved to go to the house while she was out, and see. These were rather disreputable men as you might guess. They'd often been causing problems in the area.
"Two men entered the house, leaving the third as lookout. He was very practiced in this job, but somehow he did not notice the old woman returning until it was too late to raise an alarm. 'Well that's okay.' he thought. 'She's just an old woman, what could she do to two able bodied men?'
He waited for sounds of a confrontation. Maybe even a dying scream from the old woman. But he heard nothing. And his friends, didn't come back out. He waited for an hour, but nothing. Finally he went to the same window the little boy had stood at. From there you could see the entire cabin. His friends were gone. There was nowhere they could have been hidden. He remembered the little boy's story, and, terrified, he ran. And he was never seen in Cabin John again.
"Years went by, and one day, the old woman's closest neighbor noticed that she hadn't come out for her walk. He wasn't afraid of her, even if she was a witch because she never hurt anyone, so he went to check on her. He found her, unable to get out of bed, sick, and trembling. He quickly got her to a hospital, though she protested all the way.
"'I have to feed my pet.' she'd say in a hoarse whisper. The doctors wouldn't let her leave, saying she was too badly off. 'I have to feed my pet.' She insisted. They assured her her pet would be taken care of, but when they sent someone by the house but of course they found no sign of any pet.
"'She's senile.' they decided. 'Tell her her pet is fine so she'll calm down and get better.' But she didn't calm down, and she didn't get better. About a week later, she died. Her last words were..."
At this, Tim's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "'Don't...let it...get out...'
"Not long after, a huge storm swept through the area, damaging homes, knocking down trees, flooding out streets, and the old woman's house, old as it was, fell into the creek below. And the foundation split. Right through the middle."
He looked at them all gravely. "And whatever was in there...got out."
[