(These tales are dedicated to Grace, even though she prefers Urban
legends!)
The Valentine's Day Massacre
In the silent night, there could be anything lurking about; creatures of the underground, of hell, cursed things just walking freely, looking for a victim to perish.
It so happened that this story begins, in a night of darkness, in times of hunger and dreadfulness. In the little village, near Paddington, a living nightmare awoke, on the night of Valentine's day. Earlier on the day, a boy, no older than 20, had gone to visit his beloved one, a girl, by the name of Veronica. But what he found when he stepped inside her ragged house was Veronica, with another boy. Veronica fought with the boy, but words didn't seem to work for him. The boy grabbed a near by axe and cut Veronica's face from forehead down horizontally to her right ear. He struggled with the other boy, but the other boy got hit with the other side of the axe; seconds before he died, however, he cursed the killer:
"You damned person! Now, anyone that calls Veronica's name nine times shall be hunted by her presence till she takes his life! Starting by yours!" and died.
The boy walked away from the house and cleaned himself down at the stables. When Veronica's family had found her body and the boy's body, grieve overtook them, and they buried them, along with the correspondent funeral for both youths.
It so happened, that the murderer had attended the funeral, and had passed the time there unknown. When everyone had dispersed from the graves, the boy got closer to Veronica's grave and whispered-
"You perished because you mishandled my love. Now you rot in hell!"
And he kicked dust to her grave. The angel above her grave had witnessed everything. The angel, who had his hands pressed against each other, had very pointy fingers that appeared like claws. His face represented evil itself. This angel played a big role in the killer's deadly future as well.
* * *
That night the boy passed it roughly. He woke up more than three times and he always awoke from a nightmare of a strange figure covered with blood, was choking him. As weird as it sounded the spectral figure was that of a girl's and even though he couldn't make out her face, he could see her angry eyes cry blood. He knew that it was Veronica, but she wasn't really hunting him.
He stood up and went to the kitchen to get some water from the jug. He also washed his face. When he looked up, to get a cloth to dry his face, he saw the reflection of a girl impressed on his mirror. He quickly turned around and saw no one. "Odd" he thought "my mind is always playing tricks on me." And he went back to his bed, praying for a tranquil night's sleep.
Sweat streamed down his face, and his was shaking worse than all the times before put together. He dared to uncover his face from under the blankets, and he opened his mouth to scream in terror, but nothing came out. He was paralyzed and Veronica was standing in front of him. Her ragged black sleek hair was a mess of tangles, and her right side of her face was missing and bloody. She was wrapped around a mist, and she was wearing the gown she was wearing when he killed her. He blinked and Veronica was an inch away from the foot of his bed. He could clearly see her face now, and it was the most gruesome thing he had ever laid eyes on. He could see her broken skull poking from under her tangled black hair, and blood streaming down, nonstop. Her eyes had no color, and she was crying blood; her lips as purple as anything he had ever seen, and her face, ghastly white, with a tint of green around the wound. She represented evil itself…what was going to happen to him? Before he could answer this question, Veronica smiled a deathly smile and she stretched a hand towards him; she grabbed his neck, and he couldn't breathe. She was laughing like mad, and then…he was dead.
* * *
The next morning, a passing by neighbor, who turned out to be Veronica's neighbor, going to gather some water from the village fountain, passed by the cemetery. He heard a soft rustle of leaves, and in pure curiosity, he peeked about.
Strangely, the first thing that caught his eye, was the boy's grave , the one boy that had died with Veronica. It looked strangely cheerful around there. But then something moving, near Veronica's grave, caught his eye once more. A girl, with black hair, and a white gown, juts like Veronica, was emerging from behind the angel above Veronica's grave. Suddenly she gave bloodcurdling yell, and she was gone.
The man gave a deadly gasp, realizing, too late, who that girl was. It had been Veronica, but the most dreadful thing at that moment, was the body of the killer, being hold by the angel, who had a serene expression. Its eyes were looking up, happily, and its hands were tightly around the boy's neck, while his body was hanging.
The Valentine's Day Massacre
In the silent night, there could be anything lurking about; creatures of the underground, of hell, cursed things just walking freely, looking for a victim to perish.
It so happened that this story begins, in a night of darkness, in times of hunger and dreadfulness. In the little village, near Paddington, a living nightmare awoke, on the night of Valentine's day. Earlier on the day, a boy, no older than 20, had gone to visit his beloved one, a girl, by the name of Veronica. But what he found when he stepped inside her ragged house was Veronica, with another boy. Veronica fought with the boy, but words didn't seem to work for him. The boy grabbed a near by axe and cut Veronica's face from forehead down horizontally to her right ear. He struggled with the other boy, but the other boy got hit with the other side of the axe; seconds before he died, however, he cursed the killer:
"You damned person! Now, anyone that calls Veronica's name nine times shall be hunted by her presence till she takes his life! Starting by yours!" and died.
The boy walked away from the house and cleaned himself down at the stables. When Veronica's family had found her body and the boy's body, grieve overtook them, and they buried them, along with the correspondent funeral for both youths.
It so happened, that the murderer had attended the funeral, and had passed the time there unknown. When everyone had dispersed from the graves, the boy got closer to Veronica's grave and whispered-
"You perished because you mishandled my love. Now you rot in hell!"
And he kicked dust to her grave. The angel above her grave had witnessed everything. The angel, who had his hands pressed against each other, had very pointy fingers that appeared like claws. His face represented evil itself. This angel played a big role in the killer's deadly future as well.
* * *
That night the boy passed it roughly. He woke up more than three times and he always awoke from a nightmare of a strange figure covered with blood, was choking him. As weird as it sounded the spectral figure was that of a girl's and even though he couldn't make out her face, he could see her angry eyes cry blood. He knew that it was Veronica, but she wasn't really hunting him.
He stood up and went to the kitchen to get some water from the jug. He also washed his face. When he looked up, to get a cloth to dry his face, he saw the reflection of a girl impressed on his mirror. He quickly turned around and saw no one. "Odd" he thought "my mind is always playing tricks on me." And he went back to his bed, praying for a tranquil night's sleep.
Sweat streamed down his face, and his was shaking worse than all the times before put together. He dared to uncover his face from under the blankets, and he opened his mouth to scream in terror, but nothing came out. He was paralyzed and Veronica was standing in front of him. Her ragged black sleek hair was a mess of tangles, and her right side of her face was missing and bloody. She was wrapped around a mist, and she was wearing the gown she was wearing when he killed her. He blinked and Veronica was an inch away from the foot of his bed. He could clearly see her face now, and it was the most gruesome thing he had ever laid eyes on. He could see her broken skull poking from under her tangled black hair, and blood streaming down, nonstop. Her eyes had no color, and she was crying blood; her lips as purple as anything he had ever seen, and her face, ghastly white, with a tint of green around the wound. She represented evil itself…what was going to happen to him? Before he could answer this question, Veronica smiled a deathly smile and she stretched a hand towards him; she grabbed his neck, and he couldn't breathe. She was laughing like mad, and then…he was dead.
* * *
The next morning, a passing by neighbor, who turned out to be Veronica's neighbor, going to gather some water from the village fountain, passed by the cemetery. He heard a soft rustle of leaves, and in pure curiosity, he peeked about.
Strangely, the first thing that caught his eye, was the boy's grave , the one boy that had died with Veronica. It looked strangely cheerful around there. But then something moving, near Veronica's grave, caught his eye once more. A girl, with black hair, and a white gown, juts like Veronica, was emerging from behind the angel above Veronica's grave. Suddenly she gave bloodcurdling yell, and she was gone.
The man gave a deadly gasp, realizing, too late, who that girl was. It had been Veronica, but the most dreadful thing at that moment, was the body of the killer, being hold by the angel, who had a serene expression. Its eyes were looking up, happily, and its hands were tightly around the boy's neck, while his body was hanging.