A.N. My attempt at a fanfiction, something I have wished to do for a very long time. Now, inspired by other fanfictions and a day spent surfing YouTube, I present my own version.
Enjoy.
'Hello there friend', my name is Lisbeth.
I'm writing this to document an encounter I've had with a certain villain, also for the benefit of my local police force; they wish to understand everything the 'witness' has seen in order to help them with quite possibly the strangest investigation.
Like all conventional stories, I'll start from the very beginning.
My name is Lisbeth Gale. I'm 18 years old. I live in Castleton, I suppose you could call this 'the middle of nowhere' due to the fact that it is completely devoid of anything modern, it's cut off. No shops. No major hospital nearby. No police to run to. I guess this is a blessing, everyone knows everyone; therefore if you're ever in need of anything, you can be certain you can call on just about anyone.
But I digress.
It was the end of May; I was getting ready to celebrate my 18th birthday and the terrible weather certainly wasn't putting a downer on my high spirits.
I can remember the conversation I had with my mother very clearly.
"Is everything ready for this Saturday?" I asked, beaming.
"Yes, the food has been ordered, the club is booked, of course everyone invited has responded with a 'yes'." She responded, less enthusiastically than I, possibly due to the fact I'd asked the same question many times that morning.
"Has anything been sent to me in the post?" I replied, unaffected by her dry response.
"Actually, yes. A small package arrived for you this morning." She murmured without looking up from the dishes she was scrubbing, pointing to the counter with a soapy finger.
I immediately ran over, taking the inconspicuous looking package and practically sprinting to my small bedroom.
I tore at the paper, my first gift. You may be wondering why I was so happy, the answer being that I simply didn't receive many gifts. I wasn't expecting any of my guests, or neighbours to bring me anything, but I didn't care, although that didn't mean a simple package wouldn't get me perhaps the most excited I'd been in a long time.
It was a CD in a simple clear case.
No writing.
Not even a 'love from…'
The only way to tell it was meant for me was my name, neatly written out on the front of the package in a thick, black ink.
Curious, I turned the CD in my fingers for a little while. Obviously the CD had been hand-delivered due to the absence of my home address.
Eventually, I slid the CD into my primitive DVD player, sitting comfortably on my bed, patiently staring at the laughably small TV at the foot of the bed.
I wasn't sure if the CD was going to play music or a film, however my question was answered once the opening credits of my favourite television show began to play.
Courage the cowardly dog.
It could have been my morbid and frankly unhealthy fascination with the macabre I had as a child, or just my naïve nature, but something drew me to this cartoon. The way adult themes were dealt with in a kids show with a more innocent twist, it was just wonderful.
A smile spread on to my face, whoever sent this knew how much of a fan of this I was back when I was a kid, it was hardly a secret, in fact I recall making up my own monsters and spluttering random noises to my confuse parents whilst jumping and pointing, just as courage did.
And, like courage, I had a sad upbringing, my parents fought constantly, I comfort ate as a result and was bullied, leading to the depression I had and still suffered from every so often. Courage was something I could relate to, and now I was watching him again, which brought back the happiness I felt in my younger, innocent days.
The title card of this episode read "Nevermore".
Strange, for the fan I once was, I don't remember ever seeing an episode with this name. In fact, it reminded me more of the poem by Edgar Allen Poe, 'The raven', a horror which loosely matched the genre of courage the cowardly dog, which led me to believe this episode was merely screened after my infatuation with the show.
I shut the curtains and turned off the lights, readying myself for what was about to be played on my screen despite the fact I knew I wouldn't find it as chilling as I was did.
The episode started like any other, courage found a monster to which his owners, Muriel and Eustace, remained oblivious to. The monster in this episode was in fact a raven, missing an eye with its black feathers ruffled. It was taken in by the caring Muriel, much to courage's dismay. After a few of courage's signature screams and a few of Eustace's 'Stupid dog!' remarks, I began to lose interest, looking away from the screen a few times to invest my attention on a poster when I heard the words which once again gripped me and chilled me to my core.
"Hello there friend, my name is Fred."
Yes! My favourite character! The freaky barber, Fred, who in a previous episode explained his life in rhyming verse and shaved Courage before being hospitalised for a lapse in his sanity once again.
"The words you hear are in your head."
I scanned the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of his crooked smile, messy blonde hair or green suit, yet I saw nothing, other than the credits, hearing the end tune.
What?
"I say."
I started.
"I said." Was he growing louder?
"My name" He is.
"Is Fred." Is he in my head?
"And I've been very…"
No.
"Naughty", the word, drawn out, spoken in that deep voice, where the hell was it coming from?
I sat up, flicking the TV off and removing the CD, the only thing that could be heard now was my heavy breathing and rapid pulse.
Was I sweating? How stupid! Nearly 18 and I get a little scared from a few words heard from a silly kids show.
"Silly, you say?"
I started once again, turning from the blank screen to face darkness, and nothing more. Of course, I'd erased any light not long ago, anything could be in the room and I wouldn't have noticed.
And I didn't.
I wasn't alone.
I didn't know it at the time but that downright boring episode had brought with it something I was already acquainted with.
I heard a scream from downstairs; it belonged to a woman, probably my mother.
I left the bed and felt around for the door knob until I released myself from the room to run down to where I was sure the scream came from.
"Mum?" I called out.
I was in the kitchen where I left her, the dishwater was still warm and soapy, so she hadn't left her post for long.
I called out again, but unfortunately, I was met with silence.
A bang, a loud bang resounded from upstairs, directly above me.
It sounded like a wardrobe falling, perhaps my mother had gone upstairs and accidently caused the wardrobe in her room to fall on her?
Perhaps not.
I went upstairs with trepidation, not sure what I was going to meet, when I came to a realisation. I was being ridiculous! I was frightened, and all because of a kids show! With more vigour, I climbed the creaky wooden stairs and placed a hand firmly and the handle of my mother's bedroom.
Turning it I took a deep, steadying breath and stepped inside.
My mother was indeed trapped under her large wardrobe but something was missing.
Her hair was shaved, completely removed from her head. Her long brunette locks lay sadly beside her quivering form, tears fleeing from her terrified green eyes. I never forget that image. And I'll never forget that feeling I had once I'd linked this to the cartoon character I was reminded of in my bedroom.
Had he done this?
No, he was a cartoon character, the operative word being cartoon, that was what he was, and nothing more.
But still, what had done this?
I stood in silence, unsure of what to do, until I was pulled to my senses and attempted to remove the heavy wardrobe from the body of my poor mother.
It was only when the lights went out did I realise the curtains were drawn, unusual considering it was only midday.
Once again I found myself plunged into darkness.
Once again I heard the scream resonate from my mother.
Once again I heard the words.
"Hello there friend" I stood, blindly backing into the wall.
"My name is Fred"
"Shut up!" I interrupted, shaking with anger and fear, I'd had enough of this nonsense, was this just a joke? Had this all been the doing of one of my many childhood bullies?
"These words." I felt a tug at my medium length, red hair.
"You hear" The last word was spoken with force, like how an exasperated owner would speak to an unruly pet, or dog.
"Are in your" my hair was roughly pulled up, my hands flew up also as I desperately felt around for the hand belonging to the stranger in the room.
"Head."
The next thing I heard was a mechanical device whirring into life above my head and the buzzing noise usually heard when a razor was… shaving hair.
No.
No, no, no!
It can't be.
I grabbed the cold hand, pulling at the wrist, fighting for it to release me. Eventually, after a struggle and a swift kick to the legs in front of me, it released my hair and I ran towards the door, momentarily forgetting my mother and the state she was in, and opened the door letting light flood the room.
Out of curiosity and stupidity, I turned to face the rapidly advancing man who was armed with the razor and a sizable lock of my hair.
I met him.
Fred.
"And I've been very naughty" He spoke softly, letting his eyes drop to my mother and the pile of hair he removed, staring with a crooked grin of satisfaction.
"You can't be real!" I yelled, tears beginning to form in my eyes.
Then I ran to my bedroom where this has all happened. I ran and dove under my bedcovers, burying my head and squeezing my eyes, hoping this was all just a nightmare.
Then that same, cold hand and those long, slender fingers gripped my hair once my, pulling me up and into the human, real face of Fred the sadistic barber.
An involuntary cry escaped my mouth, I was so frightened, but so shocked. The villain I'd spent my childhood watching was alive and stood before me.
He clicked the razor, forcing it into life and slowly moved it towards my hair. This time my legs were beneath me, so I could not kick him, instead I waited for him to get rid of my hair, it was the worst thing he could do after all, then he would leave.
I closed my eyes, and waited, and waited. But nothing happened. I opened my eyes and was met with the wall of my small room, and nothing more.
Where was he?
I ran once more to my mother and saw she was still on the ground, unconscious but breathing. With the adrenaline still in my system I managed to lift the wardrobe off my mother, shaking her back into a conscious state, cradling her whilst holding her softs, brown locks.
It took a while for my mother to gather the courage to report what had happened to the police. How could anyone believe us? How could she face the world with a shaved head?
Eventually, we went together and told them everything we knew, showing them the CD I'd received that day.
They explained to us that they'd heard other reports of the same crime being committed all over the world, which comforted us a great deal as we were assured we weren't crazy.
But one thing remains; where is he? How did he get here? Is he just a crazy fanatic who bases his life on a kids show?
I tell you this story in the hope that if you receive any gift in the future which matches the description I gave, you will throw it away, lock all your doors and alert the police. You might not be as crazy as you think.
I do hope you enjoyed reading this, it's my first entry after all!
Will I upload again in the future? Perhaps not, although considering it took me 30 minutes to write this story who knows where my boredom will next lead me?
If you did like this, please leave a comment expressing your opinion, even if you thought it could do with a little tweaking, how else am I supposed to know how to advance if no one will tell me how?
Thanks for reading kiddos, oh and before I forget. NOTHING BELONGS TO ME OTHER THAN THE ORGINAL CHARACTERS. :D