Write On Story Very Story

Authors' Note: This was a collaborative piece from Write On club where we took turns writing by alternating sentences. 

There once was an old tower, leaning with the weathering of its age, located at the

northern edge of the town. It was so out of the way that anyone who ventured towards it had to

follow a worn-down path eroding next to the river. A withered old man trotted down the path.

He, like the tower, was so aged that he listed as he walked, almost like an off-kilter wagon. It

was dark outside, and the path was surrounded by tall trees and thick foliage, but the man’s

lantern lit the way. As the lantern’s light flickered ominously, the man screeched to a halt. The

small dog that skittered along beside him yapped excitedly. Up ahead, the man spotted a still

figure laying on the path, illuminated by his lantern. A corpse was rotting on the ground. The

man took in a sharp breath; the dog began to bark incessantly.

As he neared the body, the old man noticed the dark cloak and hood obscuring the face.

He lifted up the fabric, he saw that it hid a pair of yellow eyes, dull from the death upon him. The

man knelt beside the body and withdrew a silvery potion from his robes, then poured it down the

throat of the dead man.

The ghastly eyes turned red and flew open as they seemed to stare into his soul, burning

the old like hell come to life. The corpse’s mouth opened and it began to speak; the words blew

from its mouth as puffs of smoke, soft and ethereal. He softly rasped “where is that little girl?”

The man started, a look of terror glazing his eyes—he knew a little girl, and an unlucky one at

that. Bitten by spiders, poisoned by snakes, and hit with a hammer, this girl has been to the

hospital many times. To have a corpse demanding her, though—that was of his utmost concern.

He cautiously backed away from the smoldering corpse. As he capped the potion, the corpse

once again went still, and he turned and fled back to his village.

A few weeks later, in a small wooden cottage, a young girl sat at the window while

writing. Her pencil scratched against the paper, scrawling out a note—I’ll be back soon, please

don’t worry. And don’t come looking for me—Then she pulled open the window and slipped out

into the night. The stars glowed brightly as her feet pattered through the damp grass. The town

buildings cast shadows over her as she gripped the knife at her side. Her hurried footsteps

carried her swiftly along the path to the old tower. The old man had warned her away from the

darkness that lingered there, but she just couldn’t listen. Reaching the base of the tower, she

stopped to catch her breath, then grabbed the rusty handle and wrenched the door open.

“Where are you?” she whispered in a singsong voice, gazing around the dark interior of

the tower. For the past nights, her dreams had been filled with the corpse the old man had

described, and in each one, his ghastly eyes gazed at the tower. The tower was tall and had a

spiral staircase winding up the sides. Moonlight illuminated dust particles overhead from the

single window near the top of the tower. As her boot clattered on the rickety staircase, a whisper

echoed through the tower.

The corpse’s raspy voice rang out, “Hello, little one. Have you come to join us?”

The girl glanced around quickly, trying to find the source of the voice. Her eyes shone as

she spotted an unusual shadow. The corpse huffed, saying, “I’m up here, child.” The conniving

girl smiled and pulled her knife out, and the silver gleamed in the moonlight. She sneakily

stalked towards the ghastly demon. 

He stepped towards her as well, rasping, “Wrong choice, child.” 

He stuck his hand in her heart and pulled. Her scream pierced the night sky, and she

struggled to pull the knife upwards, straight into his chest. He laughed as it fell from his chest,

clattering to the musty floor. He stood over her as her vision dimmed into the endless darkness.

The old man suddenly sat up disgruntled from his dream. Terror flashed through his

veins, and he jumped out of bed to go make sure the girl was still in her room. His breath

released as he saw the rise and fall of her chest. He padded his way back to his room, but upon

opening the door, he was met with a petrifying sight.

A cloaked figure stood in the center of the room, slowly shuffling towards the man. Its

glowing eyes stared directly at him. The corpse! The same one as before pulled back his hand

and lunged. A silver knife was lodged in its hand, and as the corpse lunged, the knife plunged

into the man’s chest. As he screamed, a glow started radiating around his body.

The horrendous scream woke the girl up. She sprinted towards the man’s room, but she

was just in time to see the man disappear in a puff of smoke. She gasped, gripping the door frame

as she instinctively took a step back. And then, the room was empty save for wisps of smoke

floating in the last rays of light.

The girl knew he was at the tower now—it was the only explanation for her dreams.

Heart still pounding, she ran from the room, spotting her knife from the corner of her room. She

grabbed it and darted out the door, sprinting down the worn-down path that led to the tower. She

slowed her pace as she drew closer, dread building in the pit of her stomach. The snowflakes

blurred her vision as she yanked open the tower’s door.

As the door slammed behind her, she stepped into the ground floor of the tower, quickly

glancing up through the spiral of stairs. She couldn’t see the corpse, but she knew something was

in there. she felt its presence.

She began climbing the stairs. The dust swirled through the arcs of light, and her knife’s

blade glinted eerily. The knife showed a shoe, the old man's shoe, falling down the rickety old

stairs. Her eyes caught on it, and she shuddered. A creaking noise rang from behind her. She

turned, shocked, to see the old, bloody, man reaching for her. She shoved his rotting arm away as

she took a few backwards steps up the staircase.

“No,” she whispered. But she’d known it would be him, hadn’t she? As he trailed her up

the stairs, she grabbed her extra knife from her shoe and held it up. “ Don't come any closer”

The corpse came closer. She kept her eyes on it as she ascended the staircase. He lunged

forward into her outstretched knife. As he peeled forward, a light appeared in his eyes, his hand

reached for her cheek, and then the light faded. He burst into dust, fluttering away into the

dimly-lit tower. The girl dropped the knife as her hand fell to her side. Tears burst from her eyes

as she knelt on the stairs. The old man was really gone this time.She pulled herself back up, and

continued her search for the corpse. “Where are you?” she whispered in a singsong voice, gazing

around the dark interior of the tower. Moonlight illuminated dust particles overhead from the

single window near the top of the tower. A whisper echoed through the tower.

The corpse’s raspy voice rang out, “Hello, little one. Have you come to join us?”

The girl glanced around quickly, trying to find the source of the voice. Her eyes shone

with vengeance as she spotted an unusual shadow. The corpse huffed, saying, “I’m up here,

child.” The conniving girl smiled and pulled her knife out, and the silver gleamed in the

moonlight. She stalked towards the ghastly demon. He stepped towards her as well, rasping,

“Wrong choice, child.” He stuck his hand towards her heart and reached, palm outstretched. Her

desperate scream pierced the night sky, and she struggled to pull the knife upwards, straight into

his chest. Just before he could pull out her heart, her knife pierced his heart. His twice-dead

corpse tumbled down the stairs, and there he lay still.