| General Fiction posted August 23, 2019 |
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Godspeed, my friend.
Dean
by Heather Knight
Once upon a time in a faraway land full of monsters and vampires there was a sweet little boy who was born from a pumpkin. His adoptive parents named him Dean after his great uncle, a kindly troll who had brought up his father.
From the moment he learned to hold a quill in his hand, he knew he wanted to be a writer.
'I want to tell the world about our people,' he told his mum.
She smiled her indulgent smile and her heart filled with love. In her eyes, her little son could do no wrong.
'And what exactly will you write?'
'Rhyming poems. I like rhyme, you know. And they will be very scary. I think people in the land of the 'normals' like to hear about us. For some reason they enjoy being frightened.'
When Dean turned eighteen, he packed all his belongings in a tattered suitcase. He hid his stuffed black cat under his clothes for luck and said bye to his parents.
When he arrived in New Normal, he rented a flat with some money his dad had given him and started looking for a job.
After two days, he found the perfect one. His landlady told him a nearby graveyard had an opening for a night watchman.
For the interview, he dressed up in his best vampire suit and combed his hair backwards. He thought of applying white make up, but then changed his mind. He didn't want to look as if he was making too much of an effort.
Even though the woman at the employment agency thought he looked a bit peculiar, she gave him the job.
The next night, Dean got ready for work. He put an apple, a quill and a piece of parchment in his rucksack and was all set.
At first, everything was quiet, but after a few minutes all hell broke loose.
A headless man asked him the time and was shocked when he noticed he was not afraid.
A transparent woman walked through him.
'That tickles,' he said.
Each night he saw something stranger than the night before and he wrote it all down. In verse.
And that's how he became the best horror writer in New Normal and in the whole wide world.
Once upon a time in a faraway land full of monsters and vampires there was a sweet little boy who was born from a pumpkin. His adoptive parents named him Dean after his great uncle, a kindly troll who had brought up his father.
From the moment he learned to hold a quill in his hand, he knew he wanted to be a writer.
'I want to tell the world about our people,' he told his mum.
She smiled her indulgent smile and her heart filled with love. In her eyes, her little son could do no wrong.
'And what exactly will you write?'
'Rhyming poems. I like rhyme, you know. And they will be very scary. I think people in the land of the 'normals' like to hear about us. For some reason they enjoy being frightened.'
When Dean turned eighteen, he packed all his belongings in a tattered suitcase. He hid his stuffed black cat under his clothes for luck and said bye to his parents.
When he arrived in New Normal, he rented a flat with some money his dad had given him and started looking for a job.
After two days, he found the perfect one. His landlady told him a nearby graveyard had an opening for a night watchman.
For the interview, he dressed up in his best vampire suit and combed his hair backwards. He thought of applying white make up, but then changed his mind. He didn't want to look as if he was making too much of an effort.
Even though the woman at the employment agency thought he looked a bit peculiar, she gave him the job.
The next night, Dean got ready for work. He put an apple, a quill and a piece of parchment in his rucksack and was all set.
At first, everything was quiet, but after a few minutes all hell broke loose.
A headless man asked him the time and was shocked when he noticed he was not afraid.
A transparent woman walked through him.
'That tickles,' he said.
Each night he saw something stranger than the night before and he wrote it all down. In verse.
And that's how he became the best horror writer in New Normal and in the whole wide world.
From the moment he learned to hold a quill in his hand, he knew he wanted to be a writer.
'I want to tell the world about our people,' he told his mum.
She smiled her indulgent smile and her heart filled with love. In her eyes, her little son could do no wrong.
'And what exactly will you write?'
'Rhyming poems. I like rhyme, you know. And they will be very scary. I think people in the land of the 'normals' like to hear about us. For some reason they enjoy being frightened.'
When Dean turned eighteen, he packed all his belongings in a tattered suitcase. He hid his stuffed black cat under his clothes for luck and said bye to his parents.
When he arrived in New Normal, he rented a flat with some money his dad had given him and started looking for a job.
After two days, he found the perfect one. His landlady told him a nearby graveyard had an opening for a night watchman.
For the interview, he dressed up in his best vampire suit and combed his hair backwards. He thought of applying white make up, but then changed his mind. He didn't want to look as if he was making too much of an effort.
Even though the woman at the employment agency thought he looked a bit peculiar, she gave him the job.
The next night, Dean got ready for work. He put an apple, a quill and a piece of parchment in his rucksack and was all set.
At first, everything was quiet, but after a few minutes all hell broke loose.
A headless man asked him the time and was shocked when he noticed he was not afraid.
A transparent woman walked through him.
'That tickles,' he said.
Each night he saw something stranger than the night before and he wrote it all down. In verse.
And that's how he became the best horror writer in New Normal and in the whole wide world.
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