The Fantastic Four

The fantastic foursome stood in the quarters of one Dr. Reed Richards - famed scientist, sided by his best friend, Ben Grimm, who had met together in university over a decade prior; Reed's girlfriend, Sue Storm, and her brother Johnny. Reed Richards, thirty-five, and Ben Grimm had had experience in Second World War combat prior to beginning campus. Now they are sided with friends and lovers and supposed family - Richards in a suit of blue, stove-pipe in hand; his brown hair already fading to the color of gray - Grimm in an expensive patterned green suit - Ms. Storm sexy, slim pink get-up - also fashionable - Mr. Storm showed his cuteness with a white shirt and orange pullover; his blond hair and sweet likeness attractive to the ladies. The room of four sides was gray and decorated with an array of dusting books. The day was getting late. Fury and anger and tiredness was amongst them all. Richards stood, considerate. "If you want to fly to the stars, then you pilot the ship! Count me out!" were the words that stormed out of Ben Grimm's mouth. After all, Reed Richards was the eldest of the group, and surely the most intelligent of them. "You know we haven't done enough research into the effect of cosmic rays! They might kill us all out in space!" For a moment, Ben actually sounded serious, actually genuinely concerned. The space race of the Soviets was growing enormously. America had to show that it is the greatest in this war of nations. Perhaps a final convincing blow to the dumb-founded Ben, Sue cried out and voiced the communist concern.

Black Shuck - Epilogue: Funeral of a Friend

Epilogue: Funeral of a Friend

After the continuation of my Grandad's funeral, the lives lost today were remembered. Tears ran down our faces. But at least they'ed have a peacefull afterlife with innocent Black Shuck.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Chapter Five: The Face of Terror

Chapter Five: The face of terror

I now realised my apperance. I was just a ghost of a Black Terrier with red eyes. Why should I slaughter these poor humans? The only evils were was my owner. These are just innocent people. And so, under the altar, I gave up afterlife. I'd prefer after-after life. Goodbye.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Chapter Four: Apocalypse

Chapter Four: Apocalypse

The dog lurked inside and slaughtered our other relatives. I swore something ryming rhyming with 'Shuck'. We were scared. He was about to eat us. Black Shuck. The Doom Dog. The Baskerville. What could save us? I didn't want to go to Hell right now. Or purgatory, for that matter. And then I thought a of a brilliant plan. I picked up a mirror and shone it in Black Shuck's face.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Chapter Three: The Hunt

Chaper Chapter Three: Ac Apocalypse The Hunt

I smelt flesh. Me, Black Shuck was about to eat tasty human carcass. I glided through the fog to the church. Through the my red eyes I spotted a graveyard. The flesh was long gone on them, but there were people inside. They would make a tasty feast.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Chapter Two: The Shucky Dog

Chapter Two: A Church in Nottingham. The Shucky Dog

After having tiny burgers at Little Chef in my Black suit and we arrived we realised there were only a few people there. Just Auntie Steph, 'Auntie' Jo, Robert and us. After his ashes were burnt and t a rememberance inside the church, a black terrier with red eyes burst through the doors. It was Black Shuck.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Chapter One: Collision Car

Chapter One: Ringland, the near future Collision Car

It was a bleak, dark night. Our car was driving through Ringland. The only source of light was our car headlights. We were on our way to my Grandad 'with the beard''s funeral. It was going to be a sad day for all of us. Not because of his burial, but because of the slaughter of hundreds of people because by a black, ghostly terrier with red eyes.

Our car narrowly avoided a collision with another vehicle and my dad cursed. After hours of driving, forced to eat from Little Chef, we arrived. This was the terrible part.

© 2009 Peter Webb

Black Shuck - Prologue: Dog Days

I will be serialising this story throughout the week, lasting five chapters, a prologue, and an epilogue. It's a first-person reimagining of the hell-hound, incorparating some unusual elements. Interestingly, due to deaths, both real and fictional, the story, written in 2009, has to be set before mid-2011, but it also has to be set in the future too, as my Grandfather still lives, whilst my Auntie does not. Year 7 English, and it's certianlly an odd one.

Tuesday 24th March 2009

Prologue: Dog Days

I used to be a gigantic terrier. But, when I died, and I turned into a ghost of terror. I developed bright, red eyes, and was hungry for human carcass. That was punishment for my owner, Mrs. Proudfoot. She fed me so little, and I developed tons of fat. I was sent to the vets, and the vet urged her to feed me. But she didn't, and me, a black terrier, was put down. And I shall now have my revenge.

© 2009 Peter Webb

The Empty House (illustrated)

Year 7 Literacy, just a way of expanding upon description. I don't think it's very good. Spelling errors remain, possibly for historical reference. It's not that I'm lazy.

Wednesday 18th March 2009, onwards.

The Empty House

Outside the house there was a garden. There were hundreds of slugs. Slipping was inventiable inevenitable. The overgrown weeds stung like hell. The grass was so tall that it was near impossible to find your way around. The only help was nettles. The stinging made us jump because it hurt so much, and so we got a brief glance at the house number: No. 10.

As we rang the bell, and did a very sounding like a shriek, we found out nobody was in. And there wasn't any vechiles anywhere, and they surely couldn't walk anywhere. And it wasn't the weather fort going out. Luckily, I had some good key hacking skills, but rust was flying everywhere. Inside, I glanced at the damp walls. The floor boards creaked as I walked. The paint had washed away. The wallpaper had nearly peeled of completely. I decided to walk upstairs.
 
We walked up the never-ending stairs. We glanced at some sepia pictures of a family who have been deceased for years. There was a little boy lolipop wearing a blazer, a white shirt and grey trousers, a small girl wearing a straw hat and dress, a father in their late 50s wearing a suit and a mother wearing a dress. The steps creaked every time we moved. The wallpaper was peeling off. After many minutes of climbing, we arrived up stairs.

We entered a bedroom. I looked at myself in a cracked mirror. There was a cup of tea on a seat, freezing cold. Cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling. I then smelt a disgusting, putrid aroma. I thought someone had guffed until I saw the bed sheets, covered in urine. I decided to leave the bedroom and climb up to the attic.

When I entered, I nearly fell through a hole in the attics. Owls and bats flew out of cracked windows. I spotted an old, wooden, golden chest. I tried to unlock it, but, then, suddenly, the floor collapsed and I fell through.

My friend called 999 and I was rushed to hospital. I hoped I was alright.

© 2009 Peter Webb