November 6

Horror Short Story – Emily Hickey (5th Year) – “An Eye for an Eye”

It was dark. Almost too dark to see. It contrasted with the cold so well. As though they were sisters. Footsteps surrounded the forest. The crunching and cracking of the dried up leaves and twigs on the ground would make every bone in your spine vibrate with fear.

Hot breath fought silently with the wind as a petite, pale woman sprinted as fast as she could, as though she was running from something. A man. A tall, dark, skinny man with a long face and pointy nose. He wore a long, black coat. He held his hand inside it as if he was hiding something… a gun!

The woman trembling in fear screamed with her remaining breath. HELP! Nobody answered. The face of the man close behind, twisted up as though he was eating a sour sweet. She was slowing down. Tears were streaming down from her eyes. She knew the end was near for her. She thought of the terrible choices she had made. Breaking into a house, stealing arms and stealing huge amounts of drugs from her lover to make her own fortunes. It all came down to this.

The scrawny man stopped and took out his weapon. She was still running in hope although her instinct told her it was too late. She wouldn’t listen. He aimed his gun, aligned his only eye with his target, the eye which survived the stab of a knife from his prey, and the pistol let out a bang. He succeeded. She dropped to the ground, motionlessly. Eyes open. Blood slowly dripped from the wound. The wind won the fight. her hot breath surrendered. He walked over and claimed his prize. “An eye for an eye”, and so, he left her there. Alone. Cold. Out of mind. Out of sight

November 6

Horror Short Story Winner – Senan O’Brolchain (2nd Year) – “The Bells”

He watched, content, as his child slept soundly in her crib. He had worked hard to build this house. Four white stone walls, wooden floor, thatched roof. A window just in front of him which the moonlight was streaming in through while the trees outside blew gently in the breeze. The lulling sound of the church bells echoing softly in the distance only completed the picturesque scene. Wait, church bells? They were in the countryside, surrounded by fields for miles in every direction.

The bells were ringing louder now. He felt a tingling in his hands, he looked down and saw his bones stretching and convulsing beneath his skin. Just then, the tips of his fingers split open and sharp jagged bones escaped from within. A black substance trickled from the opened skin and devoured the little flesh that the hands still ha. Meanwhile, his bony fingers had transformed into serrated talons that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The bells sounded like they were right outside now, resounding loudly through his brain.

His claws moved quickly to the cot as he realised to his horror that he couldn’t control his body. His knife-like talons reached hungrily for his child, his three-year-old daughter. ‘No!’ he shouted pleadingly as he realised what was going to happen. He strained with all his might against his own hands and somehow managed to pull them slowly away from the cot. His strength was fading rapidly though and the claws were only getting stronger. ‘No.’ he whispered again, his strength too depleted for anything louder.

The noise from the bells was deafening, as if someone was hammering the inside of his skull. The talons lunged forward in a burst of speed and plunged themselves into the soft chest of his daughter. Blood spurted everywhere and pooled darkly on the hardwood floor. She opened her mouth to scream but the energy had drained too quickly from her body and she only succeeded in a gurgling cough, peppering her lips with droplets of blood. Her eyes looked up her father, full of shock and pain until her hand dropped limply to her side, dead. Tears in his eyes, the man fell down on his knees as the ringing slowly faded into the distance, and cried.

January 27

Descriptive Writing – Task: Invent a fifth season – Dylan Schweitnitz (1st Year)

I shuffled through the doorway and shut the heavy, oak door. The resounding bang of the door slamming seemed to alert everyone in the house to my presence.

“Jay? Is that you?” my sister called from the living room.

“Yes,” I replied.

“I’ve got the monthly groceries.”

“Good. Leave them in the kitchen and get over here.” I entered the kitchen to find Ben rooting through the fridge. “What are you doing here, Ben? And why are you looking through my fridge?” I enquired.

“Well, since it’s that time of the year again, I decided that I wanted to stay with you guys for the next month,” replied Ben. I could hear my sister groan from the other room.

“We aren’t going to have enough food for the three of us,” I said.

“It’s ok. I brought food for myself.” Another groan from the living room. Even though Ben was my friend, I kind of agreed with my sister this time. Ben was a good friend, but he lacked the ability to think things through. Nothing I could say would deter him. He wanted to stay, and I couldn’t change his mind. I put the groceries away and shuffled into the living room where I welcomed a warming, soothing fire.

 

Outside the wind was picking up and ice was spreading across the windowpane. In the distance, I could make out a yeti howling at the sky. I could only make out one single yeti, which was unusual because the countryside is usually teeming with yeti folk, especially where we lived since we were near the snow-capped mountains and ice ridden forests. At this point the snowy landscape was becoming even more barren. The trees shrank and shrivelled until there was nothing left. Even the mighty evergreen tree could not persevere the seasons icy onslaught. The only tree that is left standing is the ice spike tree, a snowy white tree whose needles freeze the blood and sap causes pneumonia and frostbite. All that is left after the first blizzard are the trees, the mountains and the snow dunes. The longest night will fall over the world. The oceans will freeze over. The spell of ice and snow will fall over the land, temperatures will reach minus 90 degrees and we will be forced to stay inside for 32 days. This is the start of the fifth season. This is the start of Dypfryst.

 

Three days in and we see our first yeti close by. A monster at nine feet tall, the yeti supports a shaggy white coat with a blue hue, four-inch-long claws for ripping apart flesh, three-inch-long fangs, yellow eyes that can see in the dark, a pair of ebony curled horns and a spiked spine. They are immune to the effects of the ice spike tree and have a very high tolerance for the cold. They mostly hunt the snow deer and white rams. They also hunt ice coated wolves but normally leave them alone, because the wolves are usually in large packs. The only rival a yeti has is a Blutbär, or blood bear, but they live in Germany. A yeti only fears one thing. A thing worse than a blood bear. And that is an ice dragon.

 

Ice dragons are extremely rare. You might even say almost non-existent. But they’re real. As real as the blood pumping in your veins. As real as the eyes that you see through. I know, because I’ve seen one. They’re sixty metres long, with a head of around ten. Their skin is black with lightning blue streaks. And it’s the kind of black that is so dark it looks like nothing is there at all and you’re staring into oblivion. Their fangs are taller than a fully-grown adult. When they open their gigantic maw, they spray the land with a kind of cold that leaves you utterly devoid of warmth and soul alike. Their claws can tear holes in mountains. The spikes on their backs are jagged, pointed grey hillocks and their tail sports a spike large enough to skewer the moon. I saw it six years ago, looking out of the window in our old house. I saw it curled around a mountain top, sleeping among a sea of mangled, dead yeti folk.

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January 23

1st Year adaptations of W.B. Yeats’s ‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’:

My Innisfree – Hogwarts

I will arise and go now, and go to Hogwarts,

And a DA group I will have there, of loyal and brave students:

A dormitory I will have there, a room for the owls alone;

And live in the safety of the castle’s magic.

 

And I shall have some support there, for support comes dropping slow,

There midnight’s hoot of owls, and noon a glistening sun,

And evening full of heavy, warm air.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day,

I hear lake water rippling as the Giant Squid stretches;

While I stand in my bedroom in the lane of Privet Drive,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Tadhg Mc Grath (1B) – 2019

 

My Innisfree – Knocknacree

I will arise and go now and go to Knocknacree,

And a cottage will I build there, of brick and thatch made:

Potatoes will I have there, a coop for the hen,

And live peacefully in the song loud wood.

 

And I shall have some tranquility there, for calmness comes dropping slow,

There midnight’s all a blur, and noon a crimson glow,

And evenings full of frogs croaking in the pond.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear the owls hooting;

While I stand here on the path, or in the wood of day,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Callum Nolan (1B)- 2019

 

My Innisfree – Italy

I will arise and go now, and go to Italy,

And a mega-mansion build there, of the finest yellow gold;

Fun I will have there, a pool for the colorful parties;

And live there with my friends in the place I truly adore

 

And I shall have room there, for family comes dropping slow,

There midnights crazy parties, and noon a colorful glow,

And evenings full of crazy fun

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear the loud laughter, ringing in my ear;

While I stand on the freezing cold floor, or in the school classrooms,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Ciaran Slevin (1A) -2019

 

My Innisfree – Glenstal Abbey

I will arise and go now, and go to Glenstal Abbey,

And a grande room built there, of white brick made;

Many friends will I have there, an application form for the

Munk himself, and with all my companions in the becoming dreamy castle.

 

And I shall have some aura there, for evident comes dropping

Slow,

There midnights a burst of laughter and noon a glistening glow,

And evening full of gleeful peers.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear ecstatic roars;

While I stand on the school’s corridor, or in my English class,

I hear it deep in the heart’s core.

Adam Ryan (1A) – 2019

 

My Innisfree – Dubai

I will arise and go now, and go to Dubai,

And a golden mansion build there, of polished marble made,

A huge swimming pool I will have there, a small quiet beach for my friends and family,

And live happily in the scorching hot sun

 

And I shall have some fun there, for fun comes dropping slow

There midnights golden glitter, and noon a velvet sunny glow,

And evening full of the scarlet suns glitter.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day,

I hear music playing down at the beach,

While I sit in the loud canteen, or in the crowded science room,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Lucy Fitzgerald (1A)- 2019

 

My Innisfree – Bora Bora

I will arise and go now and go to Bora Bora,

A small, warm cabin build there, of fine wood made,

And a viewing balcony will I have there,

And a table made of marble for my rocking chair,

and live freely in the bright warm sun.

 

And I shall have some adventure there for  mystery comes dropping slow,

Drooping from the veils of the of the morning, to where the waves break,

There midnights all a shiny glow and moon a breezy day

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear the water lapping over the stony shore,

While I stand on the sea-shore or on the sandy beach,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Ellen Ryan (1A)- 2019

 

My Innisfree – California

I will arise and go now, and go to California,

And a palace build there, of stone and red brick made:

A pool will I have there, a stable for the horses,

And live with friends and family in the hills with views of the beach.

 

And I shall have some fun there, for fun comes dropping slow,

There midnights all a light from the city’s streets at night, and noon a pools glow,

And evening full of laughter.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day,

I hear ocean water waves :

While I stand on the school grounds, or in the room of history class,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Leah Nevin (1B) – 2019

 

My Innisfree – Rural Villiage

I will arise and go now and go to a quiet aul village,

And a house build, there, of hurley made:

Trays of oranges that look like sliotars will I have there, a hurling field for the back garden,

And live with my hurling pals in the countryside.

 

And I shall have some bobbing tunes there,

For craic comes dropping slow,

There midnights madness, and noon a blue and yellow glow,

And evening full of craic.

 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day,

I hear teachers talking;

While I stand on the corridors,

Or in the cantine doing homework,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Ciaran Foley – 2019

 

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January 15

❄️⛄️🎅🏼12 Word Christmas Story Entries 🎅🏼⛄️❄️

“The glistening white snow fell and the snowman rises to greet all” – Leo Tsang (3rd Year)

“Winter is white, the family tend to fight but it’s always a delight” – Aine Slattery (TY)

“Christmas Eve, ‘24 hours’ until there’s no presents under the Christmas tree” – Amy Clarke (3rd Year)

“Santa looked out his windows to see the reindeer on strike” – Senan O’Brolchain (1st Year)

“Santa Claus is coming to town.. But I live in the country?” – Niamh Ryan (TY)

“Deck the halls and Santa will come down the chimney at Christmas” – Ordhran Fitzmaurice (1st Year)

“Sitting among fellow church goers, remembering loved ones during this magical time” – Leah Madden (TY)

“Spraoi to me is Christmas glee, with magical white trees and surprises” – Rachel Hannigan (TY)

“Year by year, he arrives without fail, leaving things in his trails”- Leo Tsang (3rd Year)

“Christmas breakfast – eating a fry, opening presents, snowflakes falling. What pure glee” – James McDermott (TY)

“School’s out, and, there is no teacher or student upset about it” – Amy Clarke (3rd Year)

“Rudolph perched on the roof as Santa delivers the joy of Christmas” – Enya Weedham (TY)

 

December 1

“The Dead Shack” by Dylan Schweitnitz (1st year) – Halloween Horror Short Story

It all started on Hallowe’en when my friend George and I were dared to go into the Dead Shack, an abandoned woodcutter’s lodge in the heart of the dark forest.

‘‘Come on Mickey, just a bit of harmless fun.’’ He was wrong and he knew it. Dozens of thieves and murderers were found in the woods. All of them kill themselves. We had to be prepared in case we stumbled upon something we shouldn’t have. 23 hours later I met up with George. Our midnight antics would be the death of us, even though we didn’t know it yet. My name is Mickey Crowe, and this is the story of how I die.

It became more frightening the further we went. The trees became gnarled and twisted. Soon we caught sight of the Dead Shack. It reeked pure evil. A rotten pile of lumber sat on the side of the house. The tree line ended twenty meters before the door. The last few trees had bark that was so gnarled it looked like screaming faces were laced in with the wood. The house itself was made from the same dark wood. It was a windowless bungalow with a high placed roof. The dark wooden door was smashed from the inside. I didn’t like this one bit, but I took a deep breath and stepped into the towns deadliest house.

There was a noticeable change in the atmosphere. The air was dank and humid. There was a stale smell about the place. The floor was made of course black dirt. We were in a hallway with three doors. We chose the door to our left. Immediately, the stench of rotting corpses became apparent. There were about four rabbits and stag lying dead on the ground. At first, I thought the rats had done it but then I saw seven fat, rotted corpses of black rats nailed to the wall by their tails. Disgusted by the room, I walked out the door with George trailing behind.

The next room was the bathroom. The walls look as if they been freshly painted. I noticed some things in the bath. I curiously went over to check. I then realised what they were. They were heads of the missing criminals. They had maggots crawling all over their heads and into their eye sockets. I realised that the walls were covered with blood. A wave of sickness washed over me. I covered my mouth and ran out of the bathroom.

As we were checking the other rooms George suddenly stopped.

‘‘What is it?’’ I asked.

‘‘Nothing. It’s just, I heard a floorboard creak, but we’re standing on dirt. These words sent a chill down my spine. we turned to leave, but the door was replaced with a wall. We were trapped. We looked at the third door, then to each other.

‘‘Do you think it leads to outside?’’ asked George.

‘‘Only one way to find out.’’ I opened the door.

There was a flight of stairs leading downwards. At the bottom was a light from a torch. we nervously walked down the hallway into a room that had a door at the other end. We just got to the other end when a female voice called out softly

‘‘I hope you’re not leaving.’’

I turned to see a young girl facing the opposite way she had long, dark hair and a yellow summer dress

‘‘It gets awfully lonely in this house.’’ She whispered.

‘‘I just want friends to play with. People like me.’’

Suddenly, she turned. Her face was cracked like an old doll. Her eyes were gouged out and her mouth, chin and dress front were dripping with blood. she screamed with rage and launched herself at us. George screamed and turned to flee, but tripped instead. He started to crawl away but the girl grabbed his foot with her dirty hands. Then she was upon him. He was still screaming as she ripped his face to shreds and tore out his spine. I sprinted out the doorway as fast as possible.

After what seemed like hours of endless running, I came to room with a hole in the ceiling and a ladder protruding from it. I started to clamber up it when I heard a voice that filled me with dread.

‘‘Why are you leaving Mickey?’’

‘‘George, I thought you were dead.’’

‘‘I am,’’ replied George.

‘‘Elizabeth just wants friends. Friends like her. You’ll understand soon enough.’’

He turned. He looked just like the girl except for his face, which was horribly stitched up. In a flash he was upon me, tearing my flesh off in chunks. He gouged out my eyes and tore out my tongue. The pain. The blinding pain. It all ended when he snapped my neck.

‘‘Now we’re not lonely,” said George with a twisted smile.

December 1

“The Lady of the Lake” by Noah Murtagh (2nd Year) – Horror Short Story

“‘Lady of the lake’ was an old wives tale, a story to scare the children into behaving. Legend has it the vengeful spirit of La Loroma, Mexican widowed noble-woman, would return from her shallow grave, which overtime was eventually enveloped in the water of Larson lake, every Halloween, steal the face of a woman’s husband and pose as him for as long as she felt, then she would enamor the wife, forcefully leading her down to join la’Loroma in her watery grave. But of course, it’s just a myth, a mere story“.

Brooke hovered her hand indecisively over the keyboard before rubbing her eyes and slamming the laptop shut. It was this book that would make her financially stable again, it had to be. She got up and tiredly stumbled to the kitchen, oh boy she could just chug a coffee right now, the caffeine rush could get her writing double time. Brooke put the kettle on and sat up onto the counter, she took out her hearing aid and felt the delicious comfort of total silence. No ringing in her ears, no half hearing what people say, the scary solitude of total silence.

The kettle clicked and she walked over to it, hugging herself from the cold. She dropped a teaspoon of coffee into the hot water and let it brew. Then the voice in the back of her head piped up, “pour the coffee on your arm hunny, just feel the bliss of pain for a minute”. Brooke’s hand trembled on the cup, she put it down, reached shakily up to her cabinet and swallowed a few pills. The voice faded.

And then, breathing on the back of her neck. She swung round, connecting her elbow to something squishy, her husband clenched his stomach and presumably gasped. She grabbed her hearing aid, and sound rushed back into her reality, “hey ba..be” her husband Xavier said. Brooke crouched down to soothe him, “was on my lunch break and said I’d stop in” he groaned. They embraced and Brooke went back to her coffee business as Xavier heaved himself on to the couch. “You’re strong as hell,” he laughed. “Nope your just dramatic,” she responded. Brooke went over to get her coffee, as she picked it up she felt a voice creep into her head, “I’m the only thing you’ll ever hear clearly,” it said. “So just succumb to me”.

Brooke clutched at her head, and shrunk down to the floor, rocking, crying. “Get out of me,” she muttered. Xavier went to help but got a right hook to the jaw for his efforts. A familiar woman slowly began to form in front of her, the one from her usual hallucinations, everything was still. Xavier, unmoving in mid-air. Time was still. Brooke scrambled for the medicine cabinet. She pulled at it but it wouldn’t budge, she felt a blow to the back of her knee and she buckled, she turned her head to see a familiar woman, dawning a white nightgown. “Brooke darling, why won’t you take my hand, succumb to me. I can cure you, make you whole. Don’t you feel empty Brooke?” Brooke tried to stand but her legs didn’t cooperate.

“Walk with me Brooke, see what I have to show you”. Suddenly Brooke could stand again, she followed the woman to the broken splintered front door of her suddenly dilapidated house. Outside was a winding twisting forest, different to the usual urban street she lived on.

Brooke followed the woman down the path, with each step was a different emotion that overcame her. Then, they reached a pool of water, a sort of oasis. Within were about ten drowning women, Brooke fought the urge to join them. The lake dissipated and they continued to walk, no matter how much she tried she couldn’t stop following.

Next, they arrived at a door, within was a woman giving birth. Brooke’s mom. Brooke felt tears brimming in her eyes as she watched herself take her first breath, as her mother took her last. “You were easy,” the woman said “tragedy was destined for you, paved into your life, and I needed somebody to keep me on this ethereal plane, a vessel to stop me from passing through the veil. So I chose you, the girl with so many problems that nobody would believe if she said la loroma was inside her”. Brooke closed her eyes, “you’re not real,” she said. “Oh baby I’m way too real” the woman replied.

They continued to Walk and suddenly Brooke could see every tragedy from her life, every feeling, every emotion, the house fire, the car crash, the murder, the genocide. Brooke froze and la loroma smiled, “I think I broke you enough,” she smiled. “Make it stop,” Brooke moaned. “I can, just take my hand… succumb,” la loroma replied. Brooke looked down at her trembling hands, she’d never felt

anything like this before, never heard somebody so clear. So she held out her hand and became one with la loroma.

Suddenly everything was back, her house was normal, she was on her bed, she could hear Xavier in the living room. Except, Brooke was just the voice in la loromas head, la loroma had succeeded, she’d returned. “Xavierrr,” she called. “I have a killer surprise for you”.

November 15

“Loyal” by Emily Hickey (3rd Year) – Horror Short Story

It was a day where it felt like nothing could go wrong. Her birthday. She was turning fourteen. The sun was shining its brightest and the temperature was its warmest. The girl was carrying out errands for her aunt alongside her Jack Russel terrier, while her brother was setting up a surprise party at home. Although her parents weren’t around anymore she didn’t let it get in the way of ruining her big day. She was dropping off a delivery just outside of town to an elderly man’s house. Many rumors were spread about this man but the girl didn’t listen to them.

When she made it to the house, she knocked on the old, rusted door which led to dozens of dogs to bark and howl, almost like they were asking for help. This triggered her terrier to bark back at them. An old man stared through a small hole as if he was hiding from something. He slowly opened the door an little by little, revealing himself.  He was a tall, slender man with a hunched back. He stared at the girl with his steel grey eyes, like there was no human part of him. He slowly held out his hand with money in it. The girl cautiously went to take the money. Once she touched the notes, the man suddenly grabbed the girl by her wrist and held her mouth to block out her screaming. The dog began to bark louder and louder and the man hit the dog hard which led it to become unconscious. The girl tried so hard to fight away from the man but he just gripped tighter and dragged her roughly into the house.
 The man chained up the girl in a small, dark, isolated room. He lay her barely conscious dog in front of her. A tear streamed down her cheek as she attempted to reach for her dog and failed. She was powerless. She didn’t know what to do.
A few minutes felt so long and the girl’s face was red and painful to touch after crying so harshly. She didn’t understand how such a good day could go bad so quickly. She placed her hand on the ground and felt something sharp. Like a long shard of glass. She then quickly picked it up and hid it behind her back in her clothes.
The elderly, heartless, old man then emerged out of the dark and started to unchain her from the wall, but still kept the chains on her. He dragged her up the stairs and into another room. He dragged her so awkwardly, that she fell to her knees, leaving scratches. This room was also dark but smelled of excess cigarettes and lager. It was strong enough to make you pass out. He once again chained her up to the wall, but this time with a smaller, tighter leash.
The man spoke…..
 
“You know, I had a daughter that looked a lot like you and a beautiful wife. We also had a dog. The dog was the same age as my daughter. Born and died on the same day”
“Why are you telling me this?” The girl said with an almost shaking voice “why do you want me?”
The man continued as if the girl said nothing…
“There was only one difference between the two…. the dog was loyal but my wife and daughter were not. They chose to go against me and I refused…. one day we all had a fight and I went too far…. that same night I burned the house down with everyone in it. But it was filed as an accident… Then I moved here.” The man’s voice became a mumble.
“But h-how is this to do with me?”
The man began to rhythmically tap his heavy boot on the ground.
“I found out how to make people loyal to their owners.”
“Wh-wh-what do you mean?!”
The girl started getting smaller….
“You and your dog were born and raised for the exact same amount of time with is perfect…..”
Smaller and smaller…
“I will be your new owner… you father…. and you will be loyal…..you will stay with me and your brothers and sisters….”
The girl shrank into non-existence…. she became speechless with confusion….. what did he mean?
He walked out of the room and shortly re-entered with the girl’s dog.
Her dog was conscious now and squirming in pain from the way the man held it’s skin.
The man pressed her dog against the table. Dozens of dogs began to howl and bark dangerously. The man then took out small, sharp knife and ended the dog’s life in front of her. He glared at the puny girl and said, you’re next.
 
The man removed the chains and grabbed a hold of the girl and held onto a slightly bigger knife. He said “you know what I did to your dog? I’m gonna do that to you!. You’ll be loyal and you’ll never leave! Just like the rest of them,”
The man raised his hand with the knife with a psychotic look. However, just before he plunged for her chest, she took the glass shard and stabbed him into the stomach. She ran as fast as she could. Her heart was thumping out of her chest and she began to hyperventilate. The door was locked and the man was stumbling close behind her. She smashed straight through the window without hesitation and ran straight towards the police station. She immediately told them what happened and a number of policemen made their way to the old, crumbling house. But it was too late. The man was gone.
She knew she would never be the same again and that he may come back for her. But for now, she is alive and well and knows she will hunt him down and make sure he gets what he deserves.
November 10

“Never say no” – Michael Reddan (5th year) – Halloween Horror Short Story

The forest was streaked in the white moonlight and the wind howled through the trees. Although it had been his playground in his childhood, tonight it was a foreboding place. Jim had his fire on which spat and crackled every time a gust of cruel wind came whistling down the chimney, and even though it was warm inside, Jim was chilled to the bone. Tonight reeked of death and only Jim knew who’s death it was going to be.

 

Four weeks ago Jim and his friends went to a Fair. As they wandered around the fair enjoying each others company, they spotted an old gypsy Barrel-Top Caravan with a disheveled sign outside saying “Madame Eliza-Fortune Teller”. The girls squealed with excitement at the sight of it and wanted instantly to go in. The boys, who didn’t believe in this nonsense, scoffed at the idea and told them it was all hocus-pocus and that there was nothing real about any of it. Then one of the girls dared any of them to enter.  Jim rose to the challenge and went in,  throwing a reassuring grin to the others to show he had no fear.

 

Two candles lit the darkness inside and there was a distinct whiff of incense. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the rag dolls on the shelves which made them appear alive and huddled behind a small table sat Madame Eliza, fortune teller. She wore a black veil, covering long white hair and her face was wrinkled with age. Her eyes were black beads in her head and they had a piercing effect on Jim. “What did you come for?” she croaked.  Jim shivered and replied in a stammer, “It-It was a dare”. She looked at Jim and said,” I see……. take a seat.” She invited him to select five cards from the deck of tarot cards and told him to place them face down in front of her.

 

“Ah”, she said turning the first card. “You will come into a small fortune”. Jim sneered his approval. She moved onto the second card and turning it said, ”Someone close to you will fall ill. Turning the third card, she smiled, ”Romance, someone will make their feelings known soon. Jim hoped that at least there might be some truth behind this. He liked a girl by the name of Jenny but quickly reminded himself that this was only Hocus-pocus. Her hand slipped to the fourth card and without looking at him said: “you will be going on a journey soon”. Again Jim sneered and received a glare from the black-eyed hag making his blood turn cold.  On turning the last card, her voice changed into a low croaking whisper that chilled the atmosphere. ”The Grim Reaper, the symbol of death, someone is going to die”. She stretched her liver-spotted hand across the table towards Jim. “It is customary that you cross my palm with money for the reading”. James laughed out loud into the hags face.” Fat chance of that old hag, not for this rubbish!” as he rushed out the door. The hag screamed at him,” Jim O’Neill! You will not live to see the next full moon. I swear on my reading that it is you who will meet Death and he will be coming to claim what is rightfully his!” Jim and his friends had a good laugh on their way home at the hag’s prophecies.

Tonight was the eve of the next full moon and Jim was alone and petrified still trying to convince himself that it was all Hocus-pocus. Suddenly a shape at the window revealed the Grim Reaper. Jim ran to the back door and rushed towards the nearby cemetery. He knew that it was hallowed ground and such could protect him from all evil. As he ran towards an old oak, he suddenly saw the old hag pointing to a headstone beneath it. He stood in front of it now, in disbelief, at what was written there. In bold print was “here lies Jim O’ Neill”. As he turned to run, a hand grabbed his ankle and dragged him down. The last thing he saw was the laughing hag.

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November 1

“Interesting Ideas” – Eve O’Carroll (2nd year) – Horror Short Story Winner

Robert sat in front of his computer, his hands hovering in apprehension over the keys. The voice in his head was urging him on but he himself was still deciding whether or not he should attempt it. What’s the even point? He thought. Three dull years of his life had gone by without a whiff of violence or gore. It was unbearable. No, he thought, what if I get caught this time?
This argument definitely had grounded. The last girl had been found after two months of the police searching, in the riverbed where Robert had left her. The body was half disintegrated, rotted flesh hanging off of her decayed bones like clothes off a washing line – only dead. The report he saw described the smell as rancid and molding, like gone off meat and that the flies hung around the body even after it was moved to the mortuary. Thinking about this didn’t help. In reality, it made him want it more. That sublime rush of endorphins to his brain, watching the light drain from their eyes as thick and slow as the blood from wherever they were sliced, ground or chopped.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. His fingers were now moving hungrily over the keys in search of ideas. He needed ideas. It has to special this time, he thought. It has to be noticeable. He glanced through the articles on the Google page. All he could see were some dodgy looking Reddit threads and the Wikipedia page for some TV show. Typical, he thought bitterly. Every time you just so happen to need ideas for your next murder spree, they don’t have them.
Almost giving up, Robert slid the mouse down the page and clicked on one of the possibly hopeful links. ‘Writing ideas for your murder scene’, it said. He doubted it would be anything special, just some generic “stab him in the eye with a spoon” stuff, but he was wrong. The sicko who wrote this had all the gore Robert needed to be satisfied and more. There were so many tasty ideas on this page, it made him want more than just one kill. He wanted more. Much, much more.
However, it would be simply impertinent for Robert not to try this out on someone who had waited for so long to be caressed by his blade. The girl cowered in the corner of his damp basement, deprived of light and any safety. On a certain level, he felt sorry for her. She had been there for the past two years – only fed the scraps of meat that Robert would have otherwise given to his dog. He knew it was only right to kill her now; it would be good for them both.
As he took out his much-loved fish boning knife, Robert glimpsed the girl’s eyes for a second. He crouched next to her and whispered “Don’t worry love. It’ll all be over soon.” And with that, he set to work.
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