Celio the Dragon - Chapter Seven: Rescue

Chapter Seven: Rescue

Several knights app Cushing viewed Celio through his binoculars. "He's in!" he shouted. He consulted the beast immediatly; "My lord, Celio has entered the Super Catapault!"  "How?" asked the supernatural beast. "I... I don't know sir. But he is a major threat! If we can just get an ar-" The beast got out his hands and put them on Cushing's neck. He squeezed tightly and Cushing choked, then collapsed. "An army of knights, I know. Never state the obvious"

Celio rested after his near-death encounter. But it wouldn't last for long. Suddenly, an army of 501 knights ran in. Their faces were blood had many many scars on, recieved from their many battles. The metal armour was rusty and stained with blood, sweat, urine and excrement. Celio almost barfed. They drew their rifles and loaded it with gunpowder. The "Fire!" they shouted. They aimed at Celio, and the bullet shot out at Celio's underbelly. It was excrutiatingly painfull. Celio screamed with pain. Blood dripped onto the floor.

But he remained standing. As the knights fired, Celio moved his tail quickly in their direction. Knights fell to the floor, bleeding. As more ran in, Celio continued attacking. Soon later, the army was destroyed. All he had to do now was to rescue Daniel.

© 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 Spelling errors remain, possibly for historical reference.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