The Legend of Shadow Kuno
A random short story written by: Ben Elgin
(Some people wouldn't call this so short)
Max and the fellow secret society of the night were a bunch of mischievous hoodlums in Hadleyburg, a peaceful town somewhere in North America. Now, Max himself wasn't exactly the type of kid that would run around and break people's windows, or wrap their front yards with toilet paper, or any other annoying act of vandal; but he had to stay in his secret society of the night to keep at least a slight plubicity level of popularity. It was twenty minutes before midnight, and the small group surrounded themselves around a small base fire, somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of Hadleyburg. Max emerged from the undergrowth, bedraggled and scratched. He approached the society members slowly, each one of them giving off a slight glare. The biggest one of all of them stood up, crossing his arms in front of the fire. He eyed Max up and down and smirked. "Man, what happened to you?" Max didn't look up at him, but instead found an empty spot by the fire. When he sat down the members near him inched away. Max eyed the big boy. "The map said to go through the fifth trail pass the oak tree, but I came to a dead end surrounded by thorns and other over hanging branches…" Two of the members across from him stifled some laughter before they caught themselves and watched the boss. The big boy just turned his head, spat, and sat down; his arms still crossed. "Ha, maybe you just followed the directions wrong," the boss perked up as the group laughed, Max just stared at the fire. "I'm surprised you even came, are you sure you don't want to go home now before you wet your pants?" the boss said tauntingly, putting on a wicked grin. Max finally looked up at him. "Just tell me what I got to do." The boss looked down for a second, and then looked up again. "You have to tell us a scary story, and not no baby stories 'neither, a REAL scary story. One that'll keep us up all night…" Max sighed, that was the worst thing he was at in life, telling ghost stories and such. "Fine, I'll do it." The members of the secret society of the night laughed. A little baby boy from school is going to tell a "scary story", this should be a blast. Max thought real hard, during his early childhood years when his grandfather was still around. His grandpa would tell the most amazing stories to Max, some hilarious, some thrilling, others bone chilling… Max thought about the most frightening story he had ever heard from his grandpa. The one story that kept him up all night… Finally, Max remembered. "So are ya gonna tell us or not chum?" a little scrawny boy perked up. Max came back to reality. "Oh… Yeah. Just to warn you guys, if you want to back out of this story now, I understand and I won't say anything about it at school." This made the group laugh harder. Max shrugged and continued, "Alright, but don't tell me I didn't warn you. This story began generations ago, before your time, or even your grandpa's time. I hoped I would never have to repeat this story the night after I heard it, but you guys leave me no choice." Max's face suddenly went into a really determined look, and eyed the group slowly. "This is the phantom story… of Shadow Kuno."
Have you ever thought about, you know, proving to everyone in the world how whacky and couragous you are? Charles did, and he wanted everybody to know his name. From the time he was five, Charles wanted all the attention he could get. He has done many things, jumped off buildings, started numerous food fights, and any other childish actions that would be remembered throughout time, or at least the current week. But Charles wanted more. More attention, more fame, even more importance to his name. That is when Charles learned about the shadow man, Kuno Teure. No one has actually seen the face of Kuno Teure the day he moved into Charles' town, Kuno never really came out into the public. He kept himself in a house, more like a shack, in the outskirts of the city. Rumors spread that he only came out at midnight, during the new moon, and only to the graveyard. There was once a murder trial of a local woman being stabbed forty-three times; her body was found in her house alone during a new moon night. Of course, Kuno Teure was to blame. The trial took place but Kuno never appeared in court, seeing as it didn't matter considering the lack of evidence. He ws held in jail for two weeks but then later released. But oh yes the people knew, ol' Kuno Teure was the murderer. Another case was a child that wandered into a graveyard, but the child was never found after that evening. Once again, Kuno was to blame. Even after all these rumors, nothing recent has ever happened in Charles' town. Lack of evidence, phooey, Charles was going to find Kuno in person and get the truth… or die trying...so said Charles.
It was 11:00 pm when Charles walked out of his house; the dark sky brimmed with clouds. It didn't matter if the clouds were there or not, it was a night of a new moon, there would be no light to guide Charles. Armed with only a flashlight, a camera, and his wits, Charles slowly walked through the sleeping town, trying not to let the darkness get to him. He found himself real jumpy, almost running from a nearby cat knocking over something. If he was going to face Kuno, he needed more courage. …Yes, courage. How courageous Charles would be one the whole town knew his deeds. One lone boy stood up to the murderous Kuno Teure, the shadow man. How cool is that going to sound in the papers? Charles found himself outside the city limits, still wondering to himself what the people would call him: Charles the Great, Charles the Brave, Charles the- when he smacked straight into a tree. When Charles regained balance while rubbing his head, he found himself at the entry of the graveyard. It could've been his imagination but he felt an extremely cold wind blow from the rusty gates to the outside. He could see from there the blanket of mist that covered the ground, making the gravestones seem to be floating on clouds. He took a step forward, jumping from a rustling sound comming from nearby bushes. He jerked his flashlight towards the bushes only to see another cat run off. Charles gave off a sigh, turning towards the graveyard, slowly stepping through the swinging rusty gates, and the cold wind…
Now, no matter how brave you may say you are, let me tell you that you would run away home from the sight of this graveyard. All around were dead trees, hollow lifeless trees swinging from the howling cold wind. You could barely make out a cobblestone path cutting through numerous hills, covered in a blanket of mist and dotted with different gravestones. All around were so many different noises emitting from the darkness: howls, screeches, moans; It was a nightmare. Charles felt numb all over with fear, feeling his adrenaline run through his veins from every step he took, the only thing making him go forward was the thought of fame. A few snapping of twigs made Charles turn around quickly, shining the flashlight towards the area from whence the sound came. He heard an old croaky voice emit from the mist. "What are yo doin' here boy?" An old man, probably in his eighties, staggered out on the path. He was wearing a rolled up plaid shirt and dusty brown overalls. His face hid behind a green booney hat, grey hair sprouting from the sides of his head. His skin was pale and he walked with a limp, slowly approaching Charles. "W-Who are you?!" stammered Charles. "I should be askin yo that question," muttered the old man as he kept staggering towards Charles, "what are yo doin' in dis graveyard?" "I-I'm...lost," Charles lied. The old man chuckled as he passed Charles and kept staggering down the path, grunting with every step or so. "Yer lookin' for that Kuno fella aint'cha?" The old man asked, still looking and staggering down the stoned path. Charles shuffled his feet. "Yessir," Charles said. "Weeeell now, ternights the night. Yis sir, dis is the night dat Shadow Kuno feller appears. But if I were ye's, I'd run meself outta here before I found me guts all over the ground," the old man suddenly stopped and turned his head towards Charles, "ye know what happen's ter everyone thats ever met 'im?" he whispered slowly. "One kid who ran away from home over dat town yonder decided he 'ould find dat Kuno. He entered dis here graveyard on a night, juuuust like dis one, where the moon turns invisible. Poor kid, he git himself lost and ended up at a shack under dat weepin' willow. He heard noises and he decided ter look in the only winder. At dat moment the whooole town heard dat kid scream, and no ones ever heard of him agains." By now the old man was fully turned towards the paralyzed Charles. "Yep, and dats only one of 'em. If I were ye's I would seriously tern around now." The old man turned around and shuffled through the darkening mist, out of sight. Charles blinked and stood there for a moment, heard a sound from a distance, and took off running the opposite direction. But suddenly, Charles stopped. His breath was short and his skin was pale, he was scared out of his mind and the gate only stood a few yards away. This was his choice: Fame...or life? Charles blinked again and looked down the dark, misty cobblestone path that cut through the numerous hills. He sighed, raised his head and turned around, and slowly walked back down the hellish road. When Charles was finally out of sight, the gates slammed shut, the cold wind now blowing into the graveyard...
Run, run and turn back now! It's the only way you can survive! This thought in Charles' head kept repeating and pounding itself into his brain with every step he took, walking deeper into the heart of the graveyard. His imagination was going haywire, the noises were louder and the darkness was a catalyst of demons from hell. Suddenly, the voices in his mind were toning down, becoming more quiet within every moment. Soon they were gone, and Charles found himslef waist high in a cloud of a thickening mist. Trying to line the flashlight's beam down the path, he eventually shone it on a hill, further away. On top was a dark structure, one he couldn't see very well from this distance. Pure fear struck him as he recalled the old man's voice speaking of an old shack underneath a willow tree. This was it, this is the shack of Kuno Teure. It's time...there was no turning back now. Charles slowly made his way through the mist and to the foot of the hill, from there he could tell there was a faint light comming from within the shack, through the open window. Getting on all fours he crawled his way up the hill and to the house. His heart was pounding, he couldn't breathe, not even think. Was this worth fame? Risking your own life? Charles took a choking breath and made his way to the old walls of the shack. And yet even though he traveled through that vast graveyard, in which hearing and seeing many many things, it was now silent. Cold sweat beaded down his face as he slowly looked up through the window. And inside, is what shocked him...
Nothing. It was completely empty. Inside was just a dark hollow shack filled with nothing but cobwebs and dust. But...where...or what was that faint glow? The glow that guided him to the house was now gone, the only source of light came from his flashlight. But how? He knew something was up here before, it couldn't of been his eyes playing tricks on him this time...could it? Just then, he noticed something. A shadow...waving against the old wooden wall. He followed it and it came upon the old willow tree, but something was hanging on a the branch. Charles slowly made his away across to the roots, and snatched a piece of cloth which tumbled down upon him. No, wait... It wasn't just cloth. They were a pair of pants. Around the mid section it was wet...and had a sick aroma about it. Charles studied the pair of trousers when suddenly something came upon him. How could a shadow be cast on a wall when there was no source of light? A cold shiver ran down his spine and his hair stood on end. He slowly turned around to see a hulking figure standing over him. It was a dark figure, and Charles couldn't make out anything on him. He shined his flashlight to his face quickly screaming: "WHO ARE YOU?!", only to see a grin spread across the man's face. Charles stood paralyzed as he edged away, the beam of light slowly moving down until it showed the man's pants. They were wet around the mid section. The flashlight went out, and Charles screamed. As he began to run his elbow edged his camera and it flashed, only to let Charles glimpse at the figure standing infront of him, which seemed impossible for a human being to move from behind him and now infront. He then felt a cold hand on his hand on his shoulder...
Max stopped and glanced around at the members of the secret society of the night. Each one of them had their eyes as wide as saucers, some were shaking, others clinging on to one another. Max slowly grinned and looked at the boss who was cowering in fear. "Don't tell me you guys are scared," Max chuckled. "H-Hell no," the boss said siting upright, "how can we even trust if that's a true story? You stupid baby, that was the worst story I've ever heard."
"Really..." Max said as he stood up, "then please explain to me this." Max held out his hand and in it was looked like an old piece of paper. All the members gazed at his hand, when then they noticed the paper was floating down. The members looked up, only to see nobody there. Hell then broke loose, the members screamed an ran off, fearing their lives were at stake. The boss on the other hand, sat in paralyzed fear. He stood up then, and made his way to where Max once stood, and picked up the old piece of paper from the ground. As he flipped it over, he discovered that it wasn't a piece of paper at all, but a photo...of a man standing infront of a wooden shack. The boss gasped, and looked up. There stood Max on the forest edge of the campsite, grining. He looked down and noticed Max's pants were strangely wet... The fire then went out, and darkness surronded the boss.
While the members were running, all they could here was a gurgled scream, and an idiotic laugh.
Max and the fellow secret society of the night were a bunch of mischievous hoodlums in Hadleyburg, a peaceful town somewhere in North America. Now, Max himself wasn't exactly the type of kid that would run around and break people's windows, or wrap their front yards with toilet paper, or any other annoying act of vandal; but he had to stay in his secret society of the night to keep at least a slight plubicity level of popularity. It was twenty minutes before midnight, and the small group surrounded themselves around a small base fire, somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of Hadleyburg. Max emerged from the undergrowth, bedraggled and scratched. He approached the society members slowly, each one of them giving off a slight glare. The biggest one of all of them stood up, crossing his arms in front of the fire. He eyed Max up and down and smirked. "Man, what happened to you?" Max didn't look up at him, but instead found an empty spot by the fire. When he sat down the members near him inched away. Max eyed the big boy. "The map said to go through the fifth trail pass the oak tree, but I came to a dead end surrounded by thorns and other over hanging branches…" Two of the members across from him stifled some laughter before they caught themselves and watched the boss. The big boy just turned his head, spat, and sat down; his arms still crossed. "Ha, maybe you just followed the directions wrong," the boss perked up as the group laughed, Max just stared at the fire. "I'm surprised you even came, are you sure you don't want to go home now before you wet your pants?" the boss said tauntingly, putting on a wicked grin. Max finally looked up at him. "Just tell me what I got to do." The boss looked down for a second, and then looked up again. "You have to tell us a scary story, and not no baby stories 'neither, a REAL scary story. One that'll keep us up all night…" Max sighed, that was the worst thing he was at in life, telling ghost stories and such. "Fine, I'll do it." The members of the secret society of the night laughed. A little baby boy from school is going to tell a "scary story", this should be a blast. Max thought real hard, during his early childhood years when his grandfather was still around. His grandpa would tell the most amazing stories to Max, some hilarious, some thrilling, others bone chilling… Max thought about the most frightening story he had ever heard from his grandpa. The one story that kept him up all night… Finally, Max remembered. "So are ya gonna tell us or not chum?" a little scrawny boy perked up. Max came back to reality. "Oh… Yeah. Just to warn you guys, if you want to back out of this story now, I understand and I won't say anything about it at school." This made the group laugh harder. Max shrugged and continued, "Alright, but don't tell me I didn't warn you. This story began generations ago, before your time, or even your grandpa's time. I hoped I would never have to repeat this story the night after I heard it, but you guys leave me no choice." Max's face suddenly went into a really determined look, and eyed the group slowly. "This is the phantom story… of Shadow Kuno."
Have you ever thought about, you know, proving to everyone in the world how whacky and couragous you are? Charles did, and he wanted everybody to know his name. From the time he was five, Charles wanted all the attention he could get. He has done many things, jumped off buildings, started numerous food fights, and any other childish actions that would be remembered throughout time, or at least the current week. But Charles wanted more. More attention, more fame, even more importance to his name. That is when Charles learned about the shadow man, Kuno Teure. No one has actually seen the face of Kuno Teure the day he moved into Charles' town, Kuno never really came out into the public. He kept himself in a house, more like a shack, in the outskirts of the city. Rumors spread that he only came out at midnight, during the new moon, and only to the graveyard. There was once a murder trial of a local woman being stabbed forty-three times; her body was found in her house alone during a new moon night. Of course, Kuno Teure was to blame. The trial took place but Kuno never appeared in court, seeing as it didn't matter considering the lack of evidence. He ws held in jail for two weeks but then later released. But oh yes the people knew, ol' Kuno Teure was the murderer. Another case was a child that wandered into a graveyard, but the child was never found after that evening. Once again, Kuno was to blame. Even after all these rumors, nothing recent has ever happened in Charles' town. Lack of evidence, phooey, Charles was going to find Kuno in person and get the truth… or die trying...so said Charles.
It was 11:00 pm when Charles walked out of his house; the dark sky brimmed with clouds. It didn't matter if the clouds were there or not, it was a night of a new moon, there would be no light to guide Charles. Armed with only a flashlight, a camera, and his wits, Charles slowly walked through the sleeping town, trying not to let the darkness get to him. He found himself real jumpy, almost running from a nearby cat knocking over something. If he was going to face Kuno, he needed more courage. …Yes, courage. How courageous Charles would be one the whole town knew his deeds. One lone boy stood up to the murderous Kuno Teure, the shadow man. How cool is that going to sound in the papers? Charles found himself outside the city limits, still wondering to himself what the people would call him: Charles the Great, Charles the Brave, Charles the- when he smacked straight into a tree. When Charles regained balance while rubbing his head, he found himself at the entry of the graveyard. It could've been his imagination but he felt an extremely cold wind blow from the rusty gates to the outside. He could see from there the blanket of mist that covered the ground, making the gravestones seem to be floating on clouds. He took a step forward, jumping from a rustling sound comming from nearby bushes. He jerked his flashlight towards the bushes only to see another cat run off. Charles gave off a sigh, turning towards the graveyard, slowly stepping through the swinging rusty gates, and the cold wind…
Now, no matter how brave you may say you are, let me tell you that you would run away home from the sight of this graveyard. All around were dead trees, hollow lifeless trees swinging from the howling cold wind. You could barely make out a cobblestone path cutting through numerous hills, covered in a blanket of mist and dotted with different gravestones. All around were so many different noises emitting from the darkness: howls, screeches, moans; It was a nightmare. Charles felt numb all over with fear, feeling his adrenaline run through his veins from every step he took, the only thing making him go forward was the thought of fame. A few snapping of twigs made Charles turn around quickly, shining the flashlight towards the area from whence the sound came. He heard an old croaky voice emit from the mist. "What are yo doin' here boy?" An old man, probably in his eighties, staggered out on the path. He was wearing a rolled up plaid shirt and dusty brown overalls. His face hid behind a green booney hat, grey hair sprouting from the sides of his head. His skin was pale and he walked with a limp, slowly approaching Charles. "W-Who are you?!" stammered Charles. "I should be askin yo that question," muttered the old man as he kept staggering towards Charles, "what are yo doin' in dis graveyard?" "I-I'm...lost," Charles lied. The old man chuckled as he passed Charles and kept staggering down the path, grunting with every step or so. "Yer lookin' for that Kuno fella aint'cha?" The old man asked, still looking and staggering down the stoned path. Charles shuffled his feet. "Yessir," Charles said. "Weeeell now, ternights the night. Yis sir, dis is the night dat Shadow Kuno feller appears. But if I were ye's, I'd run meself outta here before I found me guts all over the ground," the old man suddenly stopped and turned his head towards Charles, "ye know what happen's ter everyone thats ever met 'im?" he whispered slowly. "One kid who ran away from home over dat town yonder decided he 'ould find dat Kuno. He entered dis here graveyard on a night, juuuust like dis one, where the moon turns invisible. Poor kid, he git himself lost and ended up at a shack under dat weepin' willow. He heard noises and he decided ter look in the only winder. At dat moment the whooole town heard dat kid scream, and no ones ever heard of him agains." By now the old man was fully turned towards the paralyzed Charles. "Yep, and dats only one of 'em. If I were ye's I would seriously tern around now." The old man turned around and shuffled through the darkening mist, out of sight. Charles blinked and stood there for a moment, heard a sound from a distance, and took off running the opposite direction. But suddenly, Charles stopped. His breath was short and his skin was pale, he was scared out of his mind and the gate only stood a few yards away. This was his choice: Fame...or life? Charles blinked again and looked down the dark, misty cobblestone path that cut through the numerous hills. He sighed, raised his head and turned around, and slowly walked back down the hellish road. When Charles was finally out of sight, the gates slammed shut, the cold wind now blowing into the graveyard...
Run, run and turn back now! It's the only way you can survive! This thought in Charles' head kept repeating and pounding itself into his brain with every step he took, walking deeper into the heart of the graveyard. His imagination was going haywire, the noises were louder and the darkness was a catalyst of demons from hell. Suddenly, the voices in his mind were toning down, becoming more quiet within every moment. Soon they were gone, and Charles found himslef waist high in a cloud of a thickening mist. Trying to line the flashlight's beam down the path, he eventually shone it on a hill, further away. On top was a dark structure, one he couldn't see very well from this distance. Pure fear struck him as he recalled the old man's voice speaking of an old shack underneath a willow tree. This was it, this is the shack of Kuno Teure. It's time...there was no turning back now. Charles slowly made his way through the mist and to the foot of the hill, from there he could tell there was a faint light comming from within the shack, through the open window. Getting on all fours he crawled his way up the hill and to the house. His heart was pounding, he couldn't breathe, not even think. Was this worth fame? Risking your own life? Charles took a choking breath and made his way to the old walls of the shack. And yet even though he traveled through that vast graveyard, in which hearing and seeing many many things, it was now silent. Cold sweat beaded down his face as he slowly looked up through the window. And inside, is what shocked him...
Nothing. It was completely empty. Inside was just a dark hollow shack filled with nothing but cobwebs and dust. But...where...or what was that faint glow? The glow that guided him to the house was now gone, the only source of light came from his flashlight. But how? He knew something was up here before, it couldn't of been his eyes playing tricks on him this time...could it? Just then, he noticed something. A shadow...waving against the old wooden wall. He followed it and it came upon the old willow tree, but something was hanging on a the branch. Charles slowly made his away across to the roots, and snatched a piece of cloth which tumbled down upon him. No, wait... It wasn't just cloth. They were a pair of pants. Around the mid section it was wet...and had a sick aroma about it. Charles studied the pair of trousers when suddenly something came upon him. How could a shadow be cast on a wall when there was no source of light? A cold shiver ran down his spine and his hair stood on end. He slowly turned around to see a hulking figure standing over him. It was a dark figure, and Charles couldn't make out anything on him. He shined his flashlight to his face quickly screaming: "WHO ARE YOU?!", only to see a grin spread across the man's face. Charles stood paralyzed as he edged away, the beam of light slowly moving down until it showed the man's pants. They were wet around the mid section. The flashlight went out, and Charles screamed. As he began to run his elbow edged his camera and it flashed, only to let Charles glimpse at the figure standing infront of him, which seemed impossible for a human being to move from behind him and now infront. He then felt a cold hand on his hand on his shoulder...
Max stopped and glanced around at the members of the secret society of the night. Each one of them had their eyes as wide as saucers, some were shaking, others clinging on to one another. Max slowly grinned and looked at the boss who was cowering in fear. "Don't tell me you guys are scared," Max chuckled. "H-Hell no," the boss said siting upright, "how can we even trust if that's a true story? You stupid baby, that was the worst story I've ever heard."
"Really..." Max said as he stood up, "then please explain to me this." Max held out his hand and in it was looked like an old piece of paper. All the members gazed at his hand, when then they noticed the paper was floating down. The members looked up, only to see nobody there. Hell then broke loose, the members screamed an ran off, fearing their lives were at stake. The boss on the other hand, sat in paralyzed fear. He stood up then, and made his way to where Max once stood, and picked up the old piece of paper from the ground. As he flipped it over, he discovered that it wasn't a piece of paper at all, but a photo...of a man standing infront of a wooden shack. The boss gasped, and looked up. There stood Max on the forest edge of the campsite, grining. He looked down and noticed Max's pants were strangely wet... The fire then went out, and darkness surronded the boss.
While the members were running, all they could here was a gurgled scream, and an idiotic laugh.