The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

Danny has been my friend ever since childhood, even back then he had a compulsive need to help others. I remember him once taking on three bullies at once because they were tormenting a little kid that lived on our street. Twenty years onward nothing has changed, he'd often found himself in hospital after taking on thugs in the street for causing problems with random pe ople. About a week ago Danny called me and a couple of our friends telling us he wanted to talk to us, said something really strange had happened and he needed to talk. We met up at his apartment that day and when we got there, he wasn't himself, he looked white as if he had just seen a ghost. I asked him what was the matter and he just asked us to sit down, we did as he asked, knowing he would tell us in his own time. About ten minutes of complete silence had passed before Danny had started talking. "It, all seems like a nightmare, but then again, it probably was." His voice was sha...

On March 23, 1994 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head. Mr. Opus had jumped from the top of a ten story building intending to commit suicide. He left a note to that effect, indicating his despondency. As he fell past the ninth floor his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window which k illed him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the descender was aware that a safety net had been installed just below at the eighth floor level to protect some building workers and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to complete his suicide the way he had planned. “Ordinarily,” Dr. Mills continued, “a person who sets out to commit suicide and ultimately succeeds, even though the mechanism might not be what he intended, is still defined as committing suicide.” That Mr. Opus was shot on the way to certain death, but probably would not have been successful because of the safety net, cau...

A family suicide occurred in the suburbs of Gunma Prefecture (we’ll call this family the Suzukis just for convenience). A few months later, they decided to pull down the house in which the family used to live. A group of university students in Tokyo, calling themselves “The Paranormal Research Group,” heard about this and decided to visit the house before it was gone. The group consiste d of two boys and two girls. When the group arrived, the house was already in the process of demolition. Inside was a total mess. They went in with a video camera on hand and started exploring. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Suzuki! Please excuse us!” Laughing and joking, they shouted in the empty house. “Is this your kitchen?” “May I use your bathroom?” After some time, while the rest of the group were having fun, one of the girls began to feel scared so they decided to call it a day. “Goodbye, thank you for having us!” They shouted as they left. They stopped the video camera and got into the c...

I am an extraordinary musician, one of the best; you could say it was in my blood. I am well aware of my greatness and find no reason to pretend otherwise. Modesty won’t get you anywhere. I have the ability to play any instrument I pick up, but the violin has always held a special place in my heart. The first time I laid fingers on the polished piece of wood, I could hear something telling my ten-year-old self that this instrument would get me somewhere. That voice wasn't lying. I have spent the years perfecting my talent and the hard work has paid off. I am now first chair violinist in the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, one of the most renowned orchestras in the world. Now, I mustn't take all the credit. As every musician knows the quality of the instrument is just as important as how well you can play it. This is why I have just recently finished my new violin, making it all by hand and just the way I want it. If you plan to take on the endeavor of creating a...

“Mary, you have a visitor.” I open my eyes and see the fat nurse who woke me up this morning standing in front of me, smiling. I don’t remember what happened to me or how long I have been here. I woke up today in an unfamiliar room, but somehow my posessions and clothes were neatly laid out for me. It’s a hospital or something, because they told me I’m sick and am going to be he re until I get better. And I have to get around in a wheelchair. But they’re not telling me how long I’ll be here. Nobody seems to know, and nobody answers my questions. It’s like they can’t hear me. I don’t feel sick. I’m only thirty years old for Christ’s sake. I’ve been healthy my whole life, and never even got so much as a pinprick from my work as a seamstress. I keep demanding to speak to a doctor, but everyone who works here just pats my shoulder and smiles at me. They give me pills every few hours, but I refuse to take them. They end up forcing me to take them. What if the pills they’re g...

Skiing Vacation is a horror tale about two men who become stranded on a snowy mountain cabin in the depths of Winter. It is based on a well-known Japanese urban legend. Two men from Colorado went on a skiing vacation in the mountains. They brought a camera and a camcorder with them to take pictures and shoot videos. They were staying in a remote log cabin miles away from anyone e lse. After they had spent a few days there, the weather turned bad and the men realized they were stuck on the mountain until the storm cleared. To make matters worse, one of the men had an accident while skiing and was badly injured. The other man tried to radio for help, but there was no reception and within hours, his friend was dead. The man was stranded alone on the mountain, unable to contact anyone and unable to leave because of the bad weather conditions. He took his friend’s body outside and buried it under the snow. That night, he went to bed hoping that someone would notice tha...

Thousands of years ago, the world as we know it was covered in dark, foreboding forests. Within these Ancient Forests lurked strange and frightening monsters which would become the basis of most of the world's mythology, folklore, and fairy tales. Within the Ancient Forests hid man-eating beasts, vicious hags, and bogeymen of all shapes and sizes - all of which died long before th e modern era. They exist only in the imagination of those who have kept the wisdom of their ancestors alive in song, dance, and written stories. Yet every now and then, the Ancient Forests return, spiriting people away from their homes or work and trapping them within the twisting nether. These people are presumed "missing" by the world and rarely return, and even when they do, they are often without memory or means of identification. Within the Ancient Forests these souls walk endlessly, pursued by the many dark forces that lurk within. There is no reason behind these events...

As a child, my family was broke because both of my parents were unemployed and we were all forced to stay at our aunt's house. Eventually, my mom was finally able to get a job and we bought a small, two-bedroom apartment at some small complex called "Lakeheart Apartments." It stayed true to its name - it had a murky, filthy lake at the center with a bridge coming across. We lived right by it . The apartment number was "1155." How catchy. It took about two months to get all settled. My sister and I had to share a bedroom, which clashed horribly because I was a boy. Mind you, I was six at the time and believed in cooties. I almost never got any sleep because she would tell me these creepy old tales that scared the shit out of me, and she forced me to sleep on the bottom bunk, which we found a huge cockroach hiding in shortly after getting here. She always took up all the good things and made me get into trouble for things I didn't do. One nigh...

This story was told to me by friends and grandparents. In a small town of Kentucky there was this old war veteran. His legs were blown off in the war, and so the only way he could move around was by dragging himself around by his long long long nails. He was also a psycho. He would come around the town and disembowel people with his long long nails. So, because of this, the people w ere ordered to go inside at exactly 6:00 pm and lock their doors. Well, one night a little girl asked her mom if she could go play at her friends house. The mother looked at the clock, it was 4:00. She told the little girl to be home by 5:45 because thats when "click-click" came out. The little girl agreed and was on her way.  She played and played and I guess she lost track of time because when she headed home, it was already 5:48. She thought, no hurry, ill make it home on time. But that was when she saw the ice cream man. She bought one and by the time she really started to go ho...

It likes music. It's especially fond of the piano. It was late one night. Around 2:00 AM. I was up late surfing the internet and listening to music. It was a normal night; I was just getting tired when I happened across an interesting YouTube video called, "Easiest Song to Play on the Piano! Learn TONIGHT!" I'm not much of a piano player, but I've been trying to learn, especially since I inherited my grandmother's old upright piano. It was built in 1928, but it's still in fine condition. I decided to watch the video to see just how easy it was to learn the song. On the video, it was a shot of the keys around the middle C key and elderly, white hand were playing the notes. The song was extremely simple, but there was something about it that was...strange. Unnerving. But I liked it. I memorized the chords and notes, stood from my computer, and left the room. The hallway was dark - pitch black save for the small night-light plugged into an ...

Summers in Los Angeles were notoriously hot. It’s the desert, you know, people don’t realize that behind the glitz and glamour of the Hollywood elite there is just bone dry sand and dust settling under the paved roads and suburban parks. People think that LA is a superficial city, with no depth behind its artificial glimmer, but the truth is so much worse. I know this now, in p art because of the events I am about to unfold to you all. The year was 1989, the month was June. I was seven years old and fresh out of school, ready to take on three months of uninterrupted decadence and bliss. In those days the streets were still considered safe and us kids would take to them by storm, assaulting the parks and parking lots with unprecedented vigor. We’d start the day right, playing baseball or four-square with boundless energy, and then idle down to lazy games of Horse or hide-and-seek as the sun bobbed its head and dipped beneath the Pacific. Of course, we always took a break ...

I always went into the woods as a child. It was around evening, about 7 o'clock, and it was cold outside, normal for late Fall. I was just standing on my porch, looking at the woods. My family had moved here a few years back. The house was brick, had two floors and five bedrooms. My bedroom was upstairs, and my parents live downstairs. This area is not that far from civilization; it was only a few blocks away from a city. I actually love the nature around these woods. I found it very calm and relaxing. I always liked these woods for their serene wilderness and vast amount of trees. The trees spanned at least one mile. I looked around and saw an abandoned lumberjack camp. No one was there, only machines. The machines stood in around one single object; a chainsaw. The camp felt so desolate and old. The wood seemed to have rotten over time and the machines rusted a bit. It's probably been years since this place was last used. I kept my distance, however, and hugge...

This is a sequel to my first pasta Crime Scene. I recommend reading it first. A black wind hollowed in the stormy night as a little girl ran away from the building that destroyed her life. "Mom, dad and that cop were eaten by that thing..." She had tears in her eyes but she knew she couldn't stop running or she would end up like them. The streets were dark and all lights were off. She couldn't see a thing but she kept running. Suddenly in the distance she saw lights getting closer. "A car!" She started screaming and waving her arms and as the car got closer she could see that it was a police car. The car stopped next to her and the cop that was driving asked: "What are you doing out here little girl? It's late and raining!" "You've got to help me! There was a thing in my house and it killed my parents and the a cop came and..." "Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! What are you talking about? What thing?." "It en...

I didn’t know Will could draw, I remember thinking as my friend’s hand quickly moved across the page. And then I looked more closely at Will’s impromptu sketch, and I immediately regretted it. I tried to unsee it. I shifted my attention to other things around me, anything at all that wasn’t ink on t he page: the blur of Will’s hand, the beads of sweat gathering at his temples, the gentle autumn breeze creeping through the crack of the window. Don’t look at the page. Just don’t look at it. But I knew I had to. So I looked. And it was worse than I expected. Much worse. Will had sketched a near carbon copy of those wartime Uncle Sam posters, except not quite. The suit was there. Bow tie, check. But no Uncle Sam head. The Uncle Sam body had the head of a goat. The animal flashed a welcoming, toothy smile. A hoof pointed at me, nearly coming right out of the page. But it didn’t want me to join the U.S. Army. No, this goat-headed creature had something else in mind: I w...