A Little Net Story...

Part 13

2008-04-07T20:30:00.000+02:00

Suddenly, a ketchup bottle rolled across the gray linoleum; leaving a trail of red sauce splattered on the bland floor like a Pollock painting. Or, at least, it looked like ketchup.

Part 12

2007-08-27T19:37:00.000+03:00

And Melody's soul begins her journey back to the world of the living, "But," she thinks, "my body would be gone by now. Hm, I might as well have some fun while God figures this one out."

If anyone had reason to look up into the sickly florescents buzzing 10 feet above the policeman's head, they might be surprised. For, composed of petrified walnut, filled with 24-karat gold, and materializing out of the stale air is a full-size concert grand. The perfectly polished piano adds a dramatic flair to the room.

"Shit," the policeman said, ironically, for no reason. The instrument of death smashes down as if powered by an otherworldly apparition, which it is.

Seven cops enter to a fading "Lord of the Valkaries" piano solo. They see the piano dematerialize and two people laying dead, one shot and the other pancaked but still holding his gun. All seven run from the room, screaming. They know the amount of paperwork this case will require.

Although it seems like five months have passed since the doctor left Melody, the clock face reads 2:01 a.m.

Suddenly...

Part 11

2007-05-13T11:23:00.000+03:00

The bullet went straight through her noggin and splattered her brain on the wall behind her. The policeman holstered his gun and said to himself "The bitch."

Somewhere in the realms of death and life, a figure stopped melody's soul from entering the gates which divide the domain of living and the dead. "You are not allowed." the figure's voice boomed, "Go back."

And Melody's soul begins her journey back to the world of the living, "But," she thinks, "my body would be gone by now..."

Part 10

2007-05-11T15:44:00.000+03:00

As the clock struck 2 o'clock in the morning the first policeman entered the waiting room. He shot Melody clean through the noggin. She died.

Part 9

2007-03-16T23:50:00.000+02:00

“Mrs. O’Knuckleton. I have bad news. I am afraid that…”

"That's Ms. Mutterback-O'Knuckleton," I whispered slowly, quietly releasing each syllable as if for the last time. "My name is Melody Mutterback-O'Knuckleton, although Kenneth and I, we divorced years ago. Years ago. I kept his name, the one I loved from childhood. And our daughter Mira, my lovely Mira, she has returned from the—"

The authoritative doctor gently took my arm. "Ms. Mutterback-O'Knuckleton," she said, not unkindly, "Melody, won't you sit down? I have serious news."

I blinked, inhaled deeply, and held my breath. This news I would take standing up.

"Your ex-husband has been poisoned. He's in stable condition. Serious, but stable—"

"Poisoned?! Can I see him?"

"I am sorry, Melody, but only legal relatives are allowed to visit patients. It is hospital policy. You understand, don't you? The police are on their way and any information you could provide would greatly help."

I nodded somberly, although it made no sense. Just one more senseless thread woven into my life. "Wait, the police? Please, I'm exhausted."

"I am afraid that because this is an instance of poisoning you are not to leave until they speak with you," the doctor's voice had lost all gentleness. "Now Melody, does Kenneth have any living legal relatives?"

"No, none."

I watched the doctor's white lab coat as she quickly left the room. The police would arrive any moment. No living relatives except for Mira, that is. But is that living?

As the clock struck 2 o'clock in the morning the first policeman entered the waiting room...

The 8th Post - Second Dream

2007-01-30T13:25:00.000+02:00

"Never say that name again!" he roared at me, as he took a step closer, and then (...) he grab his chest and fainted. I immediately called the emergency number:

“Yes?”

“It’s…It’s Ken! I think he had a heart-attack…”

I was still in shock when the paramedics arrived. I went with him to the hospital. At the waiting room I was silent, with the eyes focused nowhere. My mind was drifting away. This entire scene had a strange déjà vu feeling. I knew now that it wasn’t normal. For the second time I dreamt a disaster about to happen.

The first one was Mira. Nobody believed me when I told them. They thought it was from the shock, they thought that I was crazy. Now I knew that I wasn’t crazy and it wasn’t a coincidence.
A strange voice brought me back to the reality of the hospital.

“Mrs. O’Knuckleton. I have bad news. I am afraid that…”

The 7th Post - Mira

2007-01-22T18:58:00.000+02:00

“There is something I must know about the dreams, the fear, the Ronald McDonald. You must be honest with me, Ken. Is it ... is there ... a little girl in that dream?" I managed to whisper out. It took all my effort not to let my voice shake.

His eyes widened, and his mouth gaped at me. For a brief instant, a horrifying look flashed across his face before he clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. He stood up and began pacing the room.

"No.. no girl... it was no girl... you have to believe me... I didn't mean to.. I thought..." he kept muttering and shaking his head, eyes squeezed tight. A tear glistened on his face as it rolled down his cheek.

I reached out as he passed me and grabbed him by the shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. I had to know.

"What do you mean, it was no girl?" A chill ran down my spine. "She looked just like my poor baby - our poor baby, poor Mira - "

SMAAACCKKK!!

I recoiled in shock and pain, holding my hand to my face as I looked up at Ken, who now stood above me, his face full of anger and hatred.

"Never say that name again!" he roared at me, as he took a step closer, and then ...

Part 6

2007-01-06T01:12:00.000+02:00

He started, “In the beginning, I also thought that. But two nights ago I woke up with a hairball in my mouth the size of Ronald McDonald’s clown afro, which it was. His afro. Do you know how long it took me to cough up? Do you?” He glared at me, his brows angry and his eyes a little too open. “To get it out I resorted to a trick Grandmama used on my beloved old black Persian cat, Moose. I licked an entire stick of butter until the grotesquery finally loosed enough to come out.”

“Jeepers,” I murmured, picturing the 5.5-pound pig hairball in the Ripley’s Believe It or Not museum. It was starting to creep me out, the way Kenneth Mutterback-O’Knuckleton, my ex-husband, was not blinking nearly enough.

“Since that evening everything I eat tastes like salty french fries, even this water here,” Ken said, nodding toward a sippy cup clenched in his trembling wet hands.

The cup was unfamiliar. On the rim was a jagged smear of red. Before thinking, I asked, “What’s that?"

It came out slowly: “Ketchup."

A bomb of thunder exploded on the house and Ken yelped, flinging himself onto my lap. The stern winter rainstorm and his fear were overpowering. So was his weight. The food talk was making me hungry. Enough was enough—it was time to get to the bottom of some mysteries. Over the storm I yelled, “We no longer share the Mutterback-O’Knuckleton name but I know that you trust me. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come.”

He nodded solemnly.

“There is something I must know about the dreams, the fear, the Ronald McDonald. You must be honest with me, Ken. Is it...

Fifth Post

2006-12-19T19:12:00.000+02:00

I smiled and said (...):

"They are just dreams".

I didn’t know if I was calming him or calming my self. For the last two days I had the same dreams. I woke up sweating, trembling. In my mind the memory of the dream, but more strongly the memory of the fear, a primal fear that I felt in all cells of my body. I passed the last two days repeating to myself the same 4 words: "They are just dreams, they are just dreams!"

He started "In the beginning, I also thought that. But two nights ago, I woke up with…

Post Four- Strange Dreams

2006-12-19T17:00:00.000+02:00

"Its about these... these strange dreams I have been having for the past few weeks" he said

I knew about the dreams even before he had told me but still I asked him "What do you see in those dreams, come sit here and tell me."

He came on a chair nearby, almost on the edge just like his composure, frail and about to break out any second.

I put my hand on his knee, a slight touch, and said, "Tell me what it is, I might be able to help."

He stood up with a bolt, agony danced a wicked dance in his eyes and again I wondered if it was tears or just rain on his face.

"These dreams I have, I see demons who chase me every time I sleep. In every dream they come closer and closer, I have not slept for two nights because I know if I fall asleep this time, They will kill me" his voice balanced on the edge of madness and hysteria.
I knew it, he was having the recurring demon dream, a sign of his age, I smiled and said...........

3rd Post

2006-12-19T16:56:00.000+02:00

"I remained silent with my eyes on him(…)"
, thinking of what he wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was crying or if it was only the rain. His hands were trembling. “Come inside” I told him. But he didn’t move immediately. For 5 long seconds we just stared each other. Then he entered. “I need to talk to you. It is about…

Let's continue then!

2006-12-18T00:45:00.000+02:00

It all began that night. It was a rigorous night of winter. The rain flooded the deserted street and the wind pushed it against my house. I was on the safety of my living room. I looked at the window and lost myself in my thoughts.
Then, I was suddenly woken up to reality by the sound....

It was the door. I turned back. There he was standing at the door, looking at me with sorrowful eyes. I wanted to ask what was going on, but something inside held me back. I remained silent with my eyes on him.

BEGINNING OF THE STORY

2006-12-07T16:26:00.000+02:00

BLOG NEWS

2006-12-06T20:41:00.000+02:00

[NOTE: Here is where i will put the new stuff of this blog so that you will be always updated]

2006/12/17
The first addition to the story has just been written. And the first writter was Eda. Thank you Eda, and i hope you continue to write

2006/12/06
The Blog is completed. Tomorrow will be the official openning of the story with the the publication of the beggining of the story.

Further Informations

2006-12-06T17:38:00.000+02:00

The idea behind this blog is to create a story that is never-ending and is built by members of the site. The inspiration came from a game I used to play when I was little; the rules were the same the only difference was that we wrote it on paper and had to be physical close. Now with the development of the technology, this game can be upgraded to a world wide level. As you can see on the rules your imagination is the only restrain and the final result is very surprising.
Hopefully if it reaches many countries you will notice the different aspects of the human cultures.

Everybody is invited to join, even if only for one time, and has the total liberty of any writer (as long as they obey the rules).

The story will be published and updated monthly on a Mirror Blog in chronological manner (this is to permit to see the story from the beginning to the end). Also I will try to develop in different languages this idea (each language will have a different story). This blogs will be called Associated Blogs and linked to this one

If you have any further questions or want to become a member please email me at littlenetstory@hotmail.com.

Really looking forward to read your posts,

Best Regards,

Stran

Rules

2006-12-06T17:37:00.000+02:00

These are the only rules of this game:

Every post has to start where the previous post ended, continuing the last sentence of the previous post;
Every post has to end in half a sentence;
You can write whatever you want to develop the story; this means to create new characters, events, etc. In other words you have the freedom that any writer has to develop the story;
Per post you can use 2.000 letters (this limit is flexible but it should not be abused);
You can only post if the previous post was from a different user;
If two member continues the same previous post the one that will be published is the first one that appears on the blog (the other will be deleted);
If you disrespect or abuse this rules you will be prohibited to use the blog.

Terms and Conditions of Use

2006-12-06T17:35:00.000+02:00

This Terms and Conditions of Use govern your use of A litlle net story blog (“This Blog”) and all Associated blogs/sites. By using this blog, you are deemed to have agreed to these terms and conditions of use. I reserve the right to modify them at any time. You should check these terms and conditions periodically for changes. By using this site after posted any changes to these terms and conditions, you agree to accept those changes, whether or not you have reviewed them. If at any time you choose not to accept these terms and conditions of use, please do not use this Blog

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