What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Dark Shadows...The Umbrella Killer...The Investigation Begins by Destiny

Dark Shadows...The Umbrella Killer...The Investigation Begins by Destiny Part 2

Both the Investigator and Lilian began what seemed like a never ending walk up the steps to the front door. Suddenly Lilian heard a blood curdling scream from behind her and turned around to see the investigator trapped in a cage and hanging from the beam above the entrance to the door. Unable to reach or help him Lilian was at a lost as to what to do and the investigator told her to continue inside to look around passing her the key to the inside.

Upon entering she looked around the main floor and became very aware that the house was dark in nature filled with Gothic style furnishings that she figured dated back to the 17th or 18th century if not earlier. This gave the house a very chilling evil feelings furthered by it is two levels and the upstairs was much like the first. She heard a tapping sound from behind an upstairs do and entered the room to find the child who had vanished from her mothers' rooms only days before. The girl was mumbling to herself and didn't seem to notice Lilian standing there. Off to the side of the room was a balcony and Lilian decided to see what the view was like. She walked out onto the balcony and was breath taken by the view. It looked as if it was a magical forest bright and colorful unlike the house. The balcony overlooked a very mysterious looking pond and Lilian wanted to take a closer looking. She turned back toward the room and discovered the girl had vanished similar to the way she had at the hospital and continued to the back yard to see what discoveries lay ahead.

Behind the house seemed to be as dead as the entrance but as if there was an invisible line between two worlds overlooked the peaceful looking and delightful pond that didn't seem so mysterious as it did from above. Lilian walked the grounds and saw very little if anything of much concern close to the house so walked closer to the water's edge. The surroundings were still making the sounds of the pond life crisp and clear. The fish and tadpoles were swimming and jumping happily as if they dancing to the beat of the croaking sounds from frogs that could be heard off in the distance. The sun glared in Lilian's eyes making it hard to see much but just off the shoreline lay a float drifting as if it were lost in a huge ocean. Lilian held her hand above her eyes to cover the sunlight and the float became much clearer into view. It looked like any normal float would and was was white and red in color but still gave a sense of mystery the longer one looked at it. Not paying attention to what she was doing Lilian accidentally stepped too close to the water's edge and fell in. Suddenly from the float rose a hand that seemed to be grabbing her by the skirt pulling her onto the float gluing her there. Her hands and feet became tangled in weeds tying her down leaving her in much pain and discomfort. After a few minutes the weeds seem to release themselves and she became a little more comfortable but felt as though her wrists and ankles were broken. She was still unable to move and lay helpless on the float with no sign of human life nearby that she could see. She had nothing left but hope that someone would come and find her and the investigator.

Back at the front of the house the investigator was still helpless trapped in the cage but came to the realization that he had his portable radio with him which connected him to the police department. He placed a 911 over the radio and hoped for a response that would never come.

No comments:

Post a Comment