BWD's Short Stories and Oneshots (Won't be very active.)

Creative Section Literature
1

Well, I’m just gonna, like, hop on the band(ana)wagon.

Since I’m lazy, I’ll just post something I’ve already written. (Its in the Death By… Forum Game.)

[spoilerWarning-Contains Blood.:3bh0oxs4]You, a unfortunate thief, are currently running down a dark alley in the middle of a raging storm.

The only sound is your heavy breathing and quick, distressed footsteps.

That is, until a crack of thunder shoots through the sky. You trip from shock, landing on the cold, hard, rain-soaked pavement, skinning your knee.

You swear under your breath, turning your head to see a figure emerging from the entrance to the alley.

It is a Waddle Dee. It wears a navy blue bandana, and bears a spear with a rotting wood stick, holding a sharp, shining metal spearhead.

Covered in crimson red blood. Of those like you.

“So,” it said, with a pleased expression. Or atleast, as far as it could show it. It had no mouth.

However, it did have purple bags under its eyes, from chasing you all over the country for a week straight.

“I"ve finally got you. Did you truly think you could get away?” it sneered.

It began walking towards you.

“Thiefs like you never get away. Cookie Jar thiefs. All the same.”

You shuddered, paralyzed with terror. You knew this was coming.

“Tsk tsk.” It laughed, enjoying your fear. Your inevitable fate. Mocking, laughing at you.

As it finally reached your cowering body, it"s face eased out. “I think we know what happens next, hm? Thankfully, I brought my favorite spear.” It rubbed the tip tenderly.

“…Lucky for me, that is. Not you.”

And the rest…
Well, you know.

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2

Nice little one-shot you’ve got there. I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of your stories. c:

Well, I’m just gonna, like, hop on the band(ana)wagon.

(Yayforpuns)

3

FEAR THE WADDLE DEE.

do not steal the cookie jar and you will have nothing to fear.

Awesome drabble, BWD. :3

4

Thank you, everyone. :D It’s really the first thing I’ve ever written with effort, other than rps and school stuff.

hahahaha

5

[spoilerThat"s why.:1rqppf7m]Above the clouds.
Beneath the stars.
In front of the gates
to my one hope and dream.
But I can"t reach it. It"s too far.
The gates describe
my far fetched dream.
That the world I live in
or used to live in,
will stop this endless fighting.
Whether it be arguments,
or wars,
or anything of the sort…
I don"t want it to exist.
I want…
I want everyone to be happy! To be friends.
I don"t want hate in this world.
But, no matter how hard I try…
I can"t do anything.
That"s why I don"t live on this world anymore. This Earth.
That"s why…
That"s why I"m gone.

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I dunno.

6

…That was kinda sad, you know. Sounded like someone was feeling suicidal. Although, it’s also pretty good. You didn’t have any grammatical errors. Good job!

7

A Work in Progress.
[spoilerThe house.:ptz39at1]In a region that went by the name of “Grassroot”, there was a small beach beyond a bustling town with many shops, markets and inhabitants.The water below calmly drew in and out as if pleased, sometimes bringing in a few shells as a present to the sandy shores.

Atop one of the tall cliffs, there was a small house, almost taken over by nature. The sun-bleached paint on the outside was peeling and chipping, and moss and vines grew off the sides of the building. Palm trees, bright, exotic flowers, and rocks lined with lichen were scattered around the grass, which was tall enough for small Pokemon to hide in. A mailbox in the front was on the brink of collapsing, with a name written in paint on the side that was so sloppily written it was barely readable. Small, flat stepping stones winding through the tall grass, up to the front door. That itself was a pale blue with a rusted copper knob. The door creaked as it opened, but it usually was never opened. The owner of the house was usually busy exploring the endless lands, where new things were constantly being discovered every day.

If you were invited to step inside the house, you"d see that the indoors was as beautifully overgrown as the outside. The front door led to a hall, who"s walls were covered in healthy, green vines that intertwined between small wooden picture frames. They seemed to be very old, showing the memories of the owner of the house. There were shelves lined with small cases, containing games that ranged from unspeakably old to incredibly new. A small desk was set in the corner, with a small computer atop of it, loaded with the owner"s own digital creations and secrets. It was quite odd to see forms of modern day technology in the old house, but many who visited didn"t give it a thought.

The kitchen housed a small table with a wobbly leg, lined with a white laced table cloth. Small wooden chairs sat on the ends. The silverware and dishware were fairly old, but somehow were kept remarkably clean. The hinges on the doors were rusted, creaking quietly as they opened.

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8

Man, the way you describe things. It certainly brings out the feel of the setting. Wonderful job there. Lemme just point out a few things, if you don’t mind. cx

Here, you’re listing three things. According to some stupid law of grammar whose name I forgot, you need commas after “shops”, and “markets”.

That just sounds a tad repetitive, and perhaps you might want to reword it.
“A mailbox, with a name sloppily painted on the side, in the front of the house was on the brink of collapsing.”

Again, sounds a bit repetitive. Saying that the “door creaked as it opened” is a hint that it must be old or unused. The word “opened” is also used twice in the same sentence. A bit nitpicky on my part, but it might sound nicer with a synonym in place.

Again with the word opened. As previously mentioned, just me being nitpicky. xD;

All and all, great writing! I should be paying more attention to the literature forums. I still have many drabbles, oneshots, and whatnot to get to. cx