Tales of Terror

I’m embarrassed about this but I did the best I could do while burnt out.

Recently at Skyhold, Katrina’s popularity skyrocketed. Word has it that their island rep daily uses her services, so all the villagers began lining up first thing in the morning to talk to Katrina to try out her services themselves. The only one who did not was Merry.



Merry was at it again; looking for ways to become famous fast. So far she has tried singing at the tavern, making and trying to sell merchandise promoting herself, cooking, acting, but she failed to get even a single fan.



“Before, nobody cared about Katrina let alone heard of her,” Merry cried out, stomping her feet. “What does she have that I don’t have?” No one answered her except for the rumble of thunder in the distance and the sound of a steam boat nearby.



Merry sighed. It was getting dark so it was about time she headed home. Just as she was about to leave, someone called out to her from the shadows.



“Psst, cousin,” the voice called out to her. “Over here!”



Merry saw someone waving at her; the lighting was too poor to make out who it was. She approached the figure cautiously.



“I heard that you were having some problems,” the suspicious figure said. “Come with me to my boat. I have something that may help solve your problem.”



Something didn’t feel right about this, but Merry decided to follow the stranger anyways since she thought it wouldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say.



Inside the boat, Merry finally could make out who she was talking to. It was Redd! She remembered Isabelle warning about a shady dealer; could this be who she meant? Merry shook her head and told herself now is not the time to have doubts. She had to hear what he had to say.



“I have this special artifact that will guarantee you fame, wealth, you name it,” Redd said, pointing to an item that was covered by a towel. He removed the towel and beneath it was an unusual looking power stone.



The crystal was pristine with not even a speck of dust on it; the base was embellished with gold lettering and symbols, all unfamiliar to Merry. There was something eerie about the object and it gave her an awful feeling, yet she was desperate to try anything different from what she was doing before.



“This stone was said to come from a long line of successful fortunate tells. It was passed down for generations and brought each of them tremendous fame. I can sell it to you for a mere 50,000 bells. Normally it’d be at least 100,000 bells but I can give you a cousin’s discount.”



“I’ll buy it,” Merry said immediately. She knew she was behaving irrationally but she couldn’t pass this chance up. Even if the chances of this working was slim, she still wanted to try rather than continue to embarrass herself with the ideas that she has come up with so far.



The next day, Merry decided to try to use the power stone. Her paws were shaking since she couldn’t shake off this bad feeling; at the same time, she was thrilled. This is it! she thought. I’ll soon be famous. She had no idea how to use the stone but she felt like she could figure it eventually.



“Crystal ball, please grant my wish; I wish to be famous and successful,” Merry said as she pressed her paws against the crystal. The crystal lit up and then dark clouds began to swirl around inside. After a few moments passed, the crystal returned to its normal state.



Merry wasn’t sure if it worked, but she decided to wait to see the next day if anything changed.



The following day, Merry went to the island’s tavern, hoping to see an adoring crowd of people or some sign that something happened when she used the power stone. When she arrived, there was a crowd but, they fell silent when they saw her. Some of the villagers whispered to each other and pointed at her.



“Hi everyone! What’s going on?” Merry asked, pretending to not notice their unusual behavior.



Everyone just looked at each other silently and then quickly dispersed.



That was weird, Merry thought. Maybe today was not a good day for everyone and maybe the power stone didn’t work. She’ll give it some time before she tries using it again.



The rest of the week went by and she did not see anyone. She did feel like she was constantly being watched though, as she passed by other villagers’ homes.



“Now would probably be a good time to talk to Katrina; she’d probably have some idea what is going on,” Merry thought. “But, surely this is just an off week and things will return to normal and my wish will be granted too, right?”



A month later, on one gloomy day, Merry woke up to the sound of angry voices yelling outside her house and banging on her door.



“Get out here at once,” one angry villager demanded.



“We know you’re in there!” another villager chimed in as he banged loudly on her door.



“It’s all your fault that things have come to this! Come out and take responsibility!” a third villager shouted.



Merry was trembling; she was scared. She never heard the others this upset before. Just as she was about to reach out to open the door, she saw something shining in the corner of her room, partially covered by a blanket. Without thinking, she reached out to touch it; everything then went black and then she lost consciousness.



When she regained consciousness, she found herself not in her home but outside. Everything was burning outside, even the sky seemed like it was burning since the color looked ominously red. The ground was littered with turnips, scattered bells and trash.



Merry rubbed her eyes. Was this all a nightmare? In the distance, she thought she could hear someone saying her name. She tried to make it out, but their voice disappeared completely and all she could hear was the surrounding and chaos.



She was now hearing some screams but she didn’t see where they were coming from. Merry tried to move forward but she felt frozen and weak. She was really frightened.

Was this all because she messed with that suspicious power stone?



“That’s right,” a mysterious voice in her head said. “Have you learned your lesson about meddling with cursed items that aren’t meant to be used?”



Merry nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes! If I could go back and undo the decision I made back at the boat, I would!”



Suddenly, the scenery changed and she found herself back on the beach on her island. She saw no trash, turnips, scattered bells or flames. Everything seemed to be back to normal. She knew what she had to now do.



“I heard that you were having some problems,” a suspicious figure said. “Come with me to my boat. I have something that may help solve your problem.”



Merry shook her head, “No, you sly Fox. In fact, I will be reporting you to Resident Services.”
 
“Moe, wait up!”, I called out excitedly to my feline friend. I was finally able to catch up to him. “I’ve been calling out your name, didn’t you hear me?”, I let out an exasperated breath. “Huh? Oh, sorry Rin, I guess I didn’t hear you. I’ve been lost in thought.”, Moe stated. Taking a glance at him, I could see he wasn’t his usual self. There was something on his mind, but what? Eager to find out, I gave him a slight nudge with my elbow. “Care to share?”. He glanced away and brushed it off, saying it was nothing. Odd. Normally, he’d jump at the chance to spill everything on his mind. Moe’s a huge chatterbox; it’s one of his best qualities! I decided not to push it. We continued to trot along the path of the forest to our homes.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Moe’s scream. We live right across each other, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was able to hear a shriek that loud. I rushed out of bed and quickly made my way outside, still in my pj’s. I insistently started knocking on his door, “Moe, is everything okay in there??”. No answer. “Moe, are you alright??”. Still nothing. “Alright Moe.. I’m coming in!”, I exclaimed as I barged into his house. There he was, on his living room floor, frozen with shock. I glanced over to where he was staring, to be met with.. a lamp? Some grand, polished looking desk lamp, wow.. “What the heck is going on here!?”, I said all confused. “It.. it started flickering all on its own, and when I went to go turn it off, my hand started disappearing!”, Moe exclaimed. Excuse me, what? His hand started disappearing? Was Moe doing okay? I started to worry. “Moe.. did you get enough sleep last night?”, I asked worriedly. “I’m serious, Rin!! I recently ordered it off amazon, and just my luck, the thing turns out to be haunted..”, Moe said, dead serious. Okay, I’m one to believe in myths and fantasies, but some cursed desk lamp? Am I dreaming right now? Did I forget to wake up? I pinched myself. “Ow! Oh, guess this is real life.”, I said, content. I looked over at Moe and he looked genuinely scared of that thing. I guess the only way to find out is to turn it off myself! I walked over to the lamp. Geez, this thing looked way too high tech for a desk lamp. How much did he pay for this thing? …Off topic. Moving on! I reached over to switch the light off, and then.. “Rin, look! I told you, didn’t I??”, Moe shrieked as he pointed to my hand. MY HAND! It started to disappear right before my eyes, turning translucent, like a ghost! I swiped my hand away immediately. “Oh, great going, Moe! All we needed was a cursed lamp in our lives.”, I sighed. “Is that seriously all you have to say?? Didn’t you see what happened?! WHY AREN’T YOU FREAKING OUT?!?”, Moe paced back and forth. “Chill out, dude! Let’s toss it somewhere. It’ll disappear from our lives the same way it entered. No need to panic!”, I calmly said. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? It came in two weeks ago, and ever since then, constant bad luck has been following me! Yesterday was the last straw, so I grabbed it and went to go toss it outside, but the thing started shaking in my hands so I got spooked and left it be.. Until today. You saw what happened.”. Yesterday, huh? So that’s what was on his mind. “Hmm.. Moe, you got any gloves?”, I asked. “Yeah, they should be under the kitchen sink. Why?”, Moe answered. I walked over to the kitchen, opened the cupboard under the sink and grabbed the cleaning gloves. “Here, put these on. Let’s see..”, I handed a pair of gloves over to Moe, and put on a pair myself. I walked over to that freaky desk lamp and reached over to grab it. “You don’t seriously think gloves are going to prevent the phenomenon of that demon lamp turning our hands to nothingness, do you?”, Moe questioned. I grabbed it. I grabbed.. the lamp. That seriously worked. “Are you kiddin- honestly, I’m in no place to question anything anymore. Let’s get that thing outta here!”, Moe exclaimed excitedly. We ran over to the car, dunked the lamp, and hopped in. We drove along the path to the forest. This thing needed to get far away from us!

Driving deeper into the forest, we finally were far enough where we were comfortable dropping the lamp off. (Geez, like it’s a passenger or something!). We hopped out of the car and opened the trunk. It was flickering again, so I went to turn it off. It should be fine now with gloves on, right? I pressed the button, and the light turned red. What? Does this thing have a colour feature? “Is it just me or is it really foggy in this part of the woods? I can barely make out anything around us.. it sure would suck to get lost out here.”, my thoughts were cut off by Moe. I grabbed the lamp and closed the trunk. It was time to get rid of this wretched thing. “Whoa, since when was that red? Did you click something, Rin?”, Moe asked. “I just clicked the power button, no idea what happened with the light.”, I answered. “Alright.. here we go!”. I pulled my arm back and threw the lamp as far beyond the fog as I could. Out of sight, out of mind, right? “Phew, I’m at ease now. Thanks for your help, Rin. Let’s head back home.”, Moe said. We turned around expecting to see the car, only to be met with.. fog. How is that… possible? We were just by the car! We didn’t walk far enough from it where it would just disappear from sight. I looked over at Moe, he was just as confused as I was. Uh-oh.

“Face it, we’re lost! How much farther are we going to walk.. everywhere we go it’s just fog, fog, FOG!", Moe complained. “Less talking, more walking, my friend!”, I said. I glanced over at my phone. Still no service. I didn’t want to show it, but I was worried too. We’re stuck out in a forest in the dead of night, unable to call for help, and we’ve been aimlessly walking for what felt like hours. It felt hopeless. What are we gonna do? Suddenly, we came across something much too familiar. “The desk lamp.. are you joking? Can we never get rid of this thing?”, I sighed. “It’s all the curse of the desk lamp! We’re stuck out here cause it’s dripping with bad luck..”, Moe practically shouted, completely done with this stinky lamp. I wholeheartedly agreed, whether it was crazy or not. We’ve already lost our minds out here. We needed to get rid of it once and for all, only then would we be able to find our way out of these woods. I glanced over at Moe. He glanced back. We nodded our heads in unison as if we knew what the other was thinking. We needed to sneak attack this thing.. inanimate or not, this lamp’s shady! We started circling around the desk lamp like lunatics. Its light still red continued to flicker in our midst. Moe and I started eyeing the surrounding area for weapons of attack.. there! Rocks! That’ll do the trick. As if the lamp was watching our every move, we quickly grabbed the biggest rocks we could find and pounced that lamp like our lives depended on it. We started smashing its lampshade in, twisted its linkage bars, pulled out its springs, and sure enough, it was left in shambles. I almost felt bad for the thing. SIKE! Sucka. Subsequently, like a miracle, the fog started clearing, and we were able to see the beauty of the forest again. “The car!”, Moe shouted. It was there! We ran over to it, hopped in, and drove back to our homes without looking back. When we finally made it, we walked over to our houses, said our goodnights, and went in like nothing happened. Tomorrow's a new day, after all!

did you learn anything from this story? neither did i :lemon:
 
This is so long but I got caught up and couldn’t stop writing 💀

Time. The thing we are constantly trying to make the most out of because it’s so limited. Who hasn’t, in the midst of the whirlwind of school, work, or a million other responsibilities, briefly wished that they could put things on pause? I shared that mentality for most of my life, from shouldering advanced classes in high school, to trying to balance a part-time job and college, and finally a mind-numbing full time office job with adult bills. 48 hours on the weekend is simply not enough for rest and recovery, especially when one also needs to grocery shop and clean their small apartment.

One Saturday, I got up early and decided I was sick of the monotony. I would go somewhere new today, somewhere besides the grocery store and the sad retail chain where I got my low-quality clothes. I dressed for the day and headed out from my apartment, deciding to walk since the day was sunny. I passed by countless people, all undoubtedly rushing through their busy lives like myself. Eventually, I spotted a sign hanging above the sidewalk that I couldn’t remember ever seeing before, although it wasn’t as if I took casual walks all that often anymore. “Thrifted Treasures”, it read, in chipping gold paint on slightly rotted wood. Intrigued despite the decaying sign, I pulled the heavy glass door and stepped inside.

The inside of the store was much darker than the brightness of outside, and had a distinctive scent of must and old things in general. It was filled wall to wall with what one might expect from a store such as this: Antique dolls, shelves of heavy, dusty books, and jewelry and knickknacks that were all at least 50 years old. There was only one other person in there with me; a little old man with spectacles behind the counter who was absorbed in the daily newspaper. Not wanting to bother him, I began wandering around the shelves and tables, touching and studying various items that interested me. After awhile, a glint of gold in the corner of my eye caused me to turn, revealing a glass case in a beam of sunlight.

The case itself was old but unremarkable, as were most of the trinkets behind the glass. However, the gold flash that caught my attention came from an intricate porcelain music box: a carefully-constructed ballerina with one leg in the air, and a golden pocket watch necklace around her neck. I’d never been interested in delicate old objects like this before, much preferring decorations of the modern age…but there was something drawing me to it. I slowly reached out and grasped the handle of the glass case, a bit surprised when it opened with ease. I took the music box into my hands, the weight of the porcelain cold and noticeable. I brought the object to the front desk, clearing my throat to get the old gentleman’s attention.

The shop owner set down his newspaper, but there was an undeniable flash of confusion in his expression when he saw what I had brought. He mumbled something that sounded like “Thought I sold that…” before clearing his throat and examining the price tag on the music box. “$75. Genuine porcelain with 24 karat gold around her neck. Close to one hundred years old.” The price made me cringe internally, as I tried to save as much as I could and not purchase frivolous things. However, somehow I felt as if I *needed* this. Without putting in anymore thought, I pulled out my wallet and paid with cash. The owner wrapped the music box up, and I made my way home with my new possession.

I unwrapped my prize immediately, setting it on the dresser in the corner of my room. When I sat on my bed, I had a clear view of the ballerina’s figure. Suddenly remembering the purpose of the trinket, I picked it up and twisted the bottom until it clicked, before setting it back down. A pleasant, lullaby-esque melody began to play, as the ballerina spun around and around. Using the song as ambience, I began to tidy up around my room.

I could tell I’d been working awhile when I finally took a break, considering the sheen of sweat on my forehead. I checked my phone out of habit, and confusion wracked my mind when I saw it had only been ten minutes since I started. Which didn’t seem physically possible, as I’d been very thorough. I decided to shrug it off as being strangely efficient, as I couldn’t think of a better explanation. After regarding the current time carefully, I went to make myself lunch.

I boiled water, made mac n cheese, ate, and washed my dish, all of which should have taken me at least 40 minutes. But when I checked my phone, only 7 minutes had passed. Starting to feel more nervous and suspicious, I went to take a shower but put a timer on before I did so. My weekend showers were one of my guilty pleasures, so I took at least an hour each time. When I finally exited the shower and checked the timer, my heart began to race when I saw 11 minutes had gone by. Something was very off.

I dressed myself and walked back to my room, eyeing the smiling ballerina on my dresser. She had stopped playing only a minute or so after I wound her up, like any normal music box. I eyed her suspiciously, but told myself firmly that I was probably just overly paranoid. Feeling a bit sleepy after my shower, I lay on the bed and eventually dozed off, enjoying a rare nap. I woke up an unknown amount of time later, feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time. The sun still seemed to be in the same place as it had when I fell asleep, though…weird.

I fumbled for my phone again and checked the time, heart skipping a beat when I realized it’d only been a few short minutes. I squinted at the music box on the dresser, the ballerina looking just the same as before. I wasn’t necessarily scared yet, just…confused. Deciding, foolishly perhaps, that I should try an experiment instead of panicking, I went to the living room and switched on the TV. My favorite show consisted of episodes that were exactly 25 minutes each, so I’d know for sure how much time was supposed to go by. I sat on the couch and played the first episode, credits and all. A check of my phone at the end revealed it had been five minutes. Just as I suspected.

I knew immediately it must have something to do with the ballerina music box. Which logistically was pure nonsense, since objects that slow time don’t exist. But the proof was right in front of me. One part of my brain screamed at me to get rid of it. The other part, the part that was tired of never having any free time and scrambling to get things done, wanted the opposite. And so I did what every dumb horror movie character does: ignored my gut feeling.

I continued with my day instead, accomplishing far more than I had in several full weekends. The time slowing effect lasted until I finally went to bed that night, and dissipated by morning, as proven by my phone’s clock. It was Sunday, and I stupidly decided I’d love a repeat of yesterday before going back to work. I got up and twisted the ballerina’s stand again, the same melody as before playing as I got dressed. Already feeling far too comfortable with this “gift”, I set about doing whatever I wanted.

Breakfast was extremely slow and leisurely, eaten in front of the TV. I cleaned the apartment, read for awhile, and scrolled on my phone. All of this only took up a small chunk of the day. I went shopping for groceries and for clothes, meandering around for far too long just because I could. I took a walk, ate lunch at a restaurant, and went home and napped. After everything, my clocks indicated it was only early midday. By now, I was thoroughly enjoying the power the music box seemed to have brought me. When the long, long day finally ended, I felt very refreshed and actually ready for work. Fully accepting the slowed time as a privilege, I went to bed feeling much less apprehensive.

My alarm went off the next morning at its usual hour, and I drowsily grabbed my phone so I could shut off the alarm and get ready for work. However, a notification for an important email appeared on my lock screen, which I quickly opened. My vision was still a little blurry from sleep, but I could make out the bright red letters at the top that read “NOTICE OF TERMINATION”. I snapped awake immediately, sitting up and reading the email entirely. It was from my boss. He stated I hadn’t been to work in two weeks, and calls to my apartment had been futile. Confusion and fear mingled together in my brain. Two weeks? It had only been two days…right?

My fingers trembled as I clicked on the calendar app of my phone, my eyes widening at the highlighted date. It was Monday, alright. But not the Monday it was supposed to be. My pulse rushed in my ears as my eyes slowly looked up from my screen to the ballerina still sitting on my dresser. She looked almost ominous now, her smile seeming much less sweet. While time had felt so slow for me, in reality it was progressing without my knowledge.

Feeling almost blind with panic, I jumped from the bed and snatched the music box up. Still in pajamas, I ran out the door, got in my car, and drove to the nearby lake. With the strength of the fear and anger that now consumed me, I flung the time stealing ballerina as hard as I could, watching as she splashed into the water and sunk. I drove back to my apartment and called my boss, who of course didn’t believe a word of what I said. I was jobless, and thoroughly shaken by the time I had missed…but at least I was back in reality. Time went by normally after that, much to my relief. I eventually got a new job, and contented myself with 48 hour weekends.

Unbeknownst to me, however, not even 24 hours after I threw that accursed music box into the lake, the case in “Thrifted Treasures” gained a smiling ballerina once more.
 
Deadline: Oct 31st at 11:59pm EDT New
Final Reminder: This event ends on Thursday, October 31st at 11:59pm EDT. That's less than 24 hours from now!

There have been so many wonderful stories submitted so far! I'm tired so I'll have to catch up on the recent submissions tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to reading them too.
 

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the locket of the sea
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word count: 547 

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 long long ago, there was a small town by the sea which was constantly covered in a thick and dense fog. it would seem to come and go in waves almost at times. it's commonly known between the elders of the town that this fog was the result of some type of curse. this fog made it incredibly difficult for fisherman and other boats to traverse the waters by the town. "ah, it must be rolling in now...." the elders could always tell when the fog was about to over take the town. it would almost make everything feel somber and it carried a sadness throughout the town. locals have moved in and out of the town as it became incredibly difficult to live and make a living there.

 legend has it that the fog is a result of a young woman who lost someone. there was once a young woman who lived in the town who fell in love, and was given a silver locket from the one she loved. the locket was heart shaped and had small sapphires encrusted onto it. on the back, it had a message engraved on it that read "you have my heart, always." the one who gave it to her worked out in the sea, and one fateful night after a treacherous storm....they never returned. she was utterly heartbroken and it was almost as if she was lost to the world. she'd often go down to the waters and would spend hours just staring out to the sea that claimed her love. grief-stricken, she one day walked out into the sea. as she walked on her sadness overcame her and consumed her. she slowly turned into seafoam, becoming one with the sea where her beloved was lost. "i will join you...and become one with the sea that took you from me...." only the locket remained, which slowly sunk down into the deep depths of the ocean.

 the legends go on to say that that anyone who finds the locket and tries to wear it, is instantly cursed and dissolves into sea foam. the curse only lifts if the locket is returned to it's final resting place in the sea by the person who fished it out. it has been said that sailors, travelers and others that work in the sea have found the locket after accidentally fishing it out. there have been many that hadn't figured out how to break the curse and in their greed, tried to keep the locket for themselves. but no matter how long it would take the locket would always somehow end up back in the ocean. be it magic or the effects of the curse, at night almost as if it was being carried by the woman herself, the locket would make its way down to the the piers before slipping back down under the waters. the effects of the curse become permanent if the locket returns itself there. over the course of time, every now and then people started disappearing. the townspeople didn't know what to make of it at all. eventually time went on and the locket remained lost at sea. but to this day...the woman's sadness can be felt and seen each and every time a blanket of fog rolls in.​

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Here is my contribution :3 (word count: 1,224)

The night threatened to drag on, the heat sticky and unrelenting, the mosquitos attracted to the salt in his sweat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The offensive smell of smoke wafted through the woods as the nearby brush became engulfed within the carnivorous flames. Although they flickered near, dancing just in the corner of his vision, he couldn’t stop. Not when he was so close. Blood mixed with dirt and ash as he clawed desperately at the ground, his resolve only growing stronger by the second. This was his life’s work, he couldn’t give up now, not after everything that he had already done to get here-

His nails, broken at the quick, struck something hard. Something solid. A shiver ran down his spine and he dug faster, earnest to claim his prize. The flames were licking his boots by the time he finally grabbed it free and ran, heart racing, out of the woods.

He didn’t make it past the clearing before, spontaneously, he vanished.

Officers at the scene the next morning described quite a peculiar sight- footprints, they said. 2 pairs of them, and although the ash lay thick and heavy on the ground, the footprints were still fresh, as if they had just passed by. And, weirdly enough, they both stopped right at the edge of the tree line, where a metal box lay, neat and tidy as if it had been placed down with the utmost care. The fire had long died and the morning held a unique chill, yet the box was almost scalding to the touch. Pristine, they described in their reports. The box was in pristine condition.

The box was marked as evidence and filed away, the case cold and long forgotten by the time I found it.

The old police station had been long abandoned, and years had passed since anyone had even stepped foot inside that small storage closet they used to pass as an evidence locker. Growing towns call for growing reinforcements and bigger buildings, so leases were signed, boxes were moved, and many a mice had come and gone. Yet, somehow, this box lay behind, peaking through a pile of fraying documents as if it were waiting to be found.

If only I hadn’t opened the box, if maybe I had never taken to exploring the old station in my free time, none of this would have ever happened. But I did, and it did, and well…there’s no going back now.

If you find this letter, I only hope you don’t find the box. I only hope you don’t step foot in this long forsaken town- I hope, oh god I truly hope. I’m sending this out to every newspaper I can think of, so please, if you’re reading this, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It started that night. I took the box home, thinking it was some cool antique that nobody would miss. Maybe I could turn it into a jewelry box, or give it to my grandma to display inside her house. That was mistake number 1- if you find something strange that might be haunted, don’t take it home. And certainly don’t open it.

I don’t remember everything, perhaps it’s a defense mechanism, maybe it just doesn’t want me to remember. It certainly doesn’t want me to warn you. But I do remember the sense of being followed- not entirely unusual, I am an easily startled person and every cracking leaf makes me paranoid (…if only it had worked when it really counted). Night came quick, the days growing ever shorter as the seasons changed and the chill came with it. I took the same path home, saw the same neighbors and looked at the same street signs that I had almost every day of my life. Something was different that night, though. I had the sense that everyone smiled a little too hard and waved a little too long, a little too eagerly. And although the moon shone high and bright, it was eerily quiet that night. No crickets or frogs or barking dogs. Just my footsteps and the creeping sense that something was wrong. I chalked it up to sleep deprivation and stress. What I wouldn’t give for those to be my only worries now.

Nothing was different when I entered my house. I set the box on the counter to be forgotten about once more as I set about making dinner, consumed by my thoughts and the faint pang of hunger that had snuck in as I walked home.

The box remained there until I was about to fall asleep. I don’t even remember why I opened it, just that I did. And because I did, you must never, I repeat never, ever come near this town, if it is even still here by the time you get this.

I can only hope.

As soon as I opened the box, I was blinded, the bright light disorienting me as I stumbled to close the lid. A feeling of dread overtook me when I realized, no matter how hard I tried, that I couldn’t. And that’s when everything changed.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but my body certainly held it against me when I awoke the next morning on the cold tile of my kitchen floor. I almost didn’t remember what had happened, and as I stumbled to the bathroom, everything seemed normal. Until I looked in the mirror. And down at my hands. Fur. Everywhere. I stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what I saw. I think I passed out again, but somehow, I found myself out on the street, the sun hot and heavy above as my neighbors went about their day.

You would think it was any ordinary day, the birds were chirping, the kids were playing. Across the street, a lawnmower rumbled steadily onward and somewhere around the corner I heard the jolly call of the mailman as he passed out the newspapers. A day like any other. I stumbled out of the way before I almost got ran over by a bicycle and a laughing kid.

Or, rather, what used to be a kid.

You’d think it was normal at first glance, too, the way everyone went about their day. And then you would notice the ears. And the tails. And the feathers and the fur and the-

I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to think about. I sat there, right there on my front step, watching everyone for hours. Nobody said anything to indicate they thought anything was wrong. I sat there, too, in utter silence as someone sauntered across my lawn to hand me a brochure for the new HOA they were creating. I had never seen him before, certainly not here, and everyone seemed too happy, too welcoming of our newfound conditions.

I made my way back inside as the sun set, that stupid box staring at me, taunting and condescending. It seemed to laugh at me, to ridicule me for opening it and unleashing this curse on my town. It has since disappeared again, and I have given up trying to find it. I had no luck destroying it, but maybe you will. However, I pray you never have to try. I am resigned to my fate, the demons that control my town have long since taught me that resistance is futile. I only hope the disease is contained here, within these newly constructed walls, and hasn’t spread to you yet.

Oh, and before I sign off-

If someone named Tom Nook tries reaching out to you, definitely don’t answer.
 
In a small, peaceful village, a legend told of a mysterious pearl known as the "Dragon's Eye". This iridescent black pearl is rumoured to reveal the true nature of a person’s heart, showing the depths of their soul. Drawn by its beauty, many sought it without knowing the terrible curse it carried.

Bertha, a young woman with a heart for adventure, became intrigued by tales of treasures and mysteries. She spent late nights poring over ancient books and maps, her imagination filled with far-off places. One stormy night, she stumbled upon a dusty tome detailing the Dragon's Eye and its hidden location within treacherous caves beneath jagged cliffs, not far from her home.

Though villagers warned her of the dangers, Bertha felt compelled to seek out the pearl. Driven by the legend, she set out toward the cliffs, her heart racing with anticipation. The wind tugged at her clothes and howled around her, and waves crashed far below as she pressed on, driven by the thrill of discovery.

After navigating steep, rocky paths, Bertha found the cave entrance, a dark maw that seemed to swallow the light. Inside, the air was thick and damp, and quiet drips of water echoing around her. Her heart pounded with both fear and exhilaration, but she couldn’t turn back now.

Deep in the cave, on a stone pedestal, she found it, the Dragon’s Eye, beautiful yet foreboding. Its unsettling beauty drew her closer. As she reached for it, a chill ran through her, and darkness enveloped her, and clouded her vision. The curse took hold, filling her mind with visions of betrayal and greed among the villagers she loved. Beneath the smiles, her friends seemed to transform into strangers, and Bertha was filled with despair, washing over her.

Returning to the village, Bertha wasn't the same. She isolated herself and was haunted by the curse’s visions. The villagers noticed the change in her, something was not right, and while some worried, others thought she had lost her mind. Days passed, and Bertha became like a ghost of her former self, weighed down by what she had seen.

Each day blended into the next, becoming a haze, until a single moment broke through, a knock at her door. Heart pounding, Bertha opened it cautiously, to find one of the villagers standing there, concern in their eyes. They had come with kindness, their voice soft and sincere. But to Bertha, their face appeared warped, twisted by the curse’s relentless grip on her mind. The visions gnawed at her, distorting even the gentlest gestures.

As her thoughts spiraled, the villager’s voice cut through, steady and reassuring, “Everything is going to be okay, Bertha". It was the first time in ages anyone had spoken her name, and that single word seemed to restore a small, forgotten piece of her soul.

Desperate to break free, Bertha returned to the cave one final time, carrying the cursed pearl. As she entered, a familiar wave of despair washed over her. At the pedestal, she carefully placed the Dragon’s Eye back in its resting place.

In that instant, the darkness lifted, and a gentle light filled the cave. Bertha left the cave feeling as though a burden had been lifted, and when she stepped outside, the warmth of the sun greeted her, in what felt like an eternity. She felt free, grateful to have left the curse behind.

Word count: 567 words.
 
The Cursed Coins

It was Halloween night. The entire island had been looking forward to this day. As Jack was busy recruiting helpers and everyone was running around trying to scare each other, Merry, Portia, and Goldie were out trick or treating. Having already visited around half of the houses, they strolled together with their candy baskets in hand on their way to the next.

When suddenly, Goldie noticed something out of the corner of her eye. “Guys look!” She pointed, “there’s a tent in the campsite!” The girls all looked the way of the campsite which, sure enough, had a tent pitched. “That’s strange,” Portia questioned “Isabelle didn’t mention a visitor in her morning announcements.” “No matter!” Said Merry cheerfully. “Let’s show them Halloween spirit while they’re here!” The girls approached the campsite as normal, not thinking anything of it, and stopped just outside the door. “Hello?” Goldie called out. “Trick or treat!” They chorused. No reply. “Let’s go inside.” Portia offered.

As she unzipped the door and stepped inside, confusion fell onto their faces. The tent had no one inside. “That’s strange, who’s camping here today?” Merry asked. As the radio in the corner played K.K. Dirge, their eyes fell onto a pile of shiny golden coins on a stool in the center of the tent. Next to them was a note that read “please take one”. Portia shrugged, “well, they’ve left us a gift!” “Maybe they had to go home early and didn’t have time to pack up the tent?” Goldie assumed. Each girl approached the stool and reluctantly took a coin. Nothing happened. “Well, that’s that!” Portia laughed as they placed each coin in their pockets. As they all exited, she zipped the front door back up.

“Okay,” Merry sighed, “who’s house is next?” As she looked around, she began to cough. “Are you okay?” Goldie asked. “Oh, I don’t know.” Merry managed, “I suddenly don’t feel well.” “Let us know if you want to go home.” Portia told her. “We’ll stop by Nook’s Cranny on the way back and buy some medicine…” The end of her sentence trailed off as she noticed Goldie walking away. “Goldie, where are you going?” She asked, but Goldie didn’t answer. With glassed-over eyes, she began walking towards a cliff edge. “What are you doing!” Portia gasped as she grabbed her paw. She snapped out of her trance. “Oh,” she whispered, “I don’t know! I just blacked out!” And before she could manage another word, Portia meowed. Goldie and Merry looked at her puzzled. “Portia, did you just meow?” Merry asked. “I didn’t do that!” Portia snapped. “It just came out! MEOW!” She clapped a paw over her mouth.

Just then, Isabelle strolled past. “Hi guys!” She called out cheerfully. “Hi Isabelle,” Merry managed with a small cough, “while we have you, do you know who’s camping here today?” Isabelle glanced at the tent behind them. “Oh, I don’t know!” She answered, “I didn’t know anyone was camping today. Nobody made themselves known this morning and I haven’t seen anyone visiting aside from Jack!” “Does Jack have a tent?” Goldie asked. “He doesn’t,” Isabelle replied, “he took the seaplane here and he’s catching a flight back home once the night is over.” The three girls shared concerned glances. “I have to go now anyway.” Isabelle said with a cheery smile, “enjoy the rest of your night!” She skipped away and left Merry, Portia, and Goldie in silence.

“We need to return the coins.” Portia said with a note of concern. “MEOW! I mean, NOW!” They hurried back into the tent, Portia almost breaking the zip in speed. They fished the coins they took from their pockets, placed them back onto the stool, closed the door, and ran away. They didn’t look back.

“I feel better now.” Merry said. “So do I!” Goldie agreed. “I’m not meowing anymore as well.” Confirmed Portia. “Whose tent was that…?” Goldie asked. After a pause, Portia replied “I don’t know. We have to tell Isabelle to make an announcement telling people not to go in there.” Finally, they turned around. They saw nothing but an empty campsite. And with that, their feet kicked up the path from underneath them as they sprinted away.

705 words
 
1093 words!

There was once a man whose wealth was beyond measure, at least as far as the other town residents were concerned. His luxurious home sat on a hill overlooking the town, a position he felt was worthy of his status. Each day, he would take a stroll down to the center of the town, accompanied by two guards who trailed behind him – he would not have them detract from his appearance.

“Hey, mister! Shine your shoes for a copper?”
“Is that a new hat you’re wearing? It looks mighty nice on you.”
“Care for a delicious apple? Only the finest for you, sir.”

When he’d had his fill of attention, he’d call for the carriage to take him back up to his home – he could not trouble himself with a sweat.

The wealthy man took many vacations, and on one such trip, he found himself inside an antique store. To his disappointment, they possessed only a small selection of jewelry. He prided himself in his ability to identify craftsmanship - brands, locations, materials - and would call them out aloud as he perused the shop’s wares.

“You are well-traveled, my friend. Your knowledge is admirable,” The owner spoke as she cleaned.

The man lifted his gaze towards her, a smug smile stretching his lips, “Like no one you’ve ever met.”

The woman chuckled, “Perhaps not.”

His eyes shifted towards her hands; she was fiddling with the most beautiful brooch he’d ever seen. The way the light reflected off the jewels, the precise placement of each, the silver fastening…!

“I must know who created this beauty. It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever seen! That’s a feat in itself!” He wished to wrestle it from her unworthy fingers, but he was a gentleman and restrained himself.

“The maker… they are long dead. And preferred to remain anonymous,” she noticed that his eyes were still lingering on the accessory, “… It’s not for sale.”

Everything is for sale.” Digging into his coat pocket, he procured several coins, though far less than the true value of the piece. She stared at them in front of her.

“This is a piece that reflects the wearer’s soul to the world. Are you confident it will be something you want others to see?”

Dismissing her with his hand, he shook his head, “Bah, you artistic types! I’ll be taking that brooch now, my good mlady.”

---

The next day, when he had returned home, he could not wait to show off in front of the townspeople. After checking himself in the mirror, he fastened the brooch to his clothing and sauntered down the hill as usual.

It could not have gone better in his imagination. Not a word was spoken to him as he walked, no charity to give out, no drivel to listen to – the people simply stared at him in awe. His bejeweled cane slammed against the ground with each step, as if to announce his presence. But with the brilliant brooch on his person, he hardly needed it – the man felt like he was a celestial body, the sun itself! It was only natural such a piece would bring out his radiance! Feeling energized, he strolled an extra loop around before being taken back to his abode.

---

Strangely, as he went about the rest of his day, his servants felt more distant than usual. He’d never wanted them around for longer than he needed them, but he felt a scratching at his mind that it seemed like they were actively avoiding interaction. His attendant had even left his nighttime dose of medicine on his bedside table, without waiting to remove it from his room! Shrugging it off, he resolved to inquire about it tomorrow. After changing into his silky sleepwear, he fixed the brooch to his chest, and joked to himself, “If the sun is going to sleep, perhaps I’ll wake to a cold world.”

---

The man awoke in darkness.

At first, he thought he’d gotten up in the middle of the night. He called out for one of his servants; there was no reply. Frustrated, he threw the blankets off of himself and stormed over to the window, throwing open the curtains and –

The windows were boarded up.

The man’s fear was palpable as he screamed for his servants once more. When silence roared in response, his legs scrambled for the exit. Struggling with the lack of light, he managed to crawl to his front door and overheard two people talking outside.

“What is the meaning of this?” The wealthy man yelled.

“Ah, there he is. Sir, us townsfolk don’t want to catch what you’ve got. Better to keep it locked up in that fancy house of yours. Sorry, but them’s the breaks.”

“Let me out at once! I’ll call the authorities!”

“I am the authorities. This has been a courtesy call. I’ll be taking my leave, now. Best of luck with… whatever that is.” He mumbled something to the other person and their footsteps began to move away from the house.

What are they possibly talking about?

A feeling of dread washed over him as he caught a streak of sunlight peeking from one of the windows. He took a hand mirror (oh, he had so many!) from a nearby table, and his trembling body made its way over to the sliver on the floor, holding the mirror to his face.

He did not recognize himself. How could he recognize himself? His hair was withered and bone white, his eyes a bloodshot red. His skin had taken on sickly shades of yellow and green, and his entire body was covered in raised bumps that oozed a purple pus. The mirror threatened to drop from his shaking hands.

How could this have happened? His body felt no different than he had yesterday. He was an exceptionally clean and careful man, youthful and full of vigor. At no point during his travels had he been approached by someone afflicted with disease, and he would have given them a wide berth if he had!

Still in disbelief, he raised a finger to touch a blemish but found his skin as smooth as it had been before. He rubbed his fingers together, not a speck of liquid on them.

“It’s that damned brooch!” The man tore it from his breast and threw it at the wall, slamming his body against the door.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Please, just look at me now! There’s nothing wrong with me!”

...

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