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#1 |
Returning Friend
Join Date: Apr 2007
Location: USA
Posts: 68
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![]() Prologue Most spooky tales can begin with something as corny as ?it was a long, dark and stormy night,? but we?re not gonna go there with this one. Yes, it was long night. And of course things would be dark?why else would they call it ?night? for cryin? out loud? But this night was anything but stormy. In fact, it was quiet and hot (Whew! Somebody turn on the fan! God! Why the heck did I choose the spring season to narrate?). Frances ?Frankie? Foster was driving through Manhattan from her grandmother?s mansion in downtown, where they ran a foster home for real imaginary friends whose creators outgrew them (would you believe there were 2,038 imaginary friends in that household?). Thanks to the carelessness of one imaginary friend named Blooregard Q. Kazoo, Frankie was forced to go out and find a new mirror to replace the one that Bloo had busted from a prank that he set up for his friend and creator, Mac. If it were not for the fact that Mr. Herriman, the president of the home (a giant rabbit created by Frankie?s own grandmother), Frankie would be sitting at home, drinking a nice cold lemonade, and watching the new season of Misplaced. But Mr. Herriman stated precisely that ?the sooner a new mirror is purchased, the more trouble you save forgetting about it entirely.? So there Frankie was, driving in her long bus and making her way to the nearest pawn shop in the city. She passed by familiar areas on her way there: Pete?s Diner, the Muppet Theatre, and the Happiness Hotel. All of these places had one thing in common?Muppets (if you hadn?t figured that out by the time you read ?Muppet Theatre,? stop reading this very minute). The residents of Foster?s Home For Imaginary Friends had been great fans of theirs, ever since Madame Foster and the oldest friends of the house went to see their first performance at the Muppet Theatre with special guest, Juliet Prowse. They had even went backstage a few times to meet the stars. Even though thinking about Muppets eased her tension, by the time Frankie had gotten to the pawnshop, she became a little frustrated again (she was more than that, but we?re gonna limit our use of the ?P-word? for this tale), as she parked her bus outside the shop. The moment she stepped inside the shop, she knew that she didn?t want to be there?not just because it took her away from free time, but it was one creepy pad. ?Can anybody say ?Wes Craven??? Frankie muttered, as she gazed upon all of the unusual items inside the shop: shrunken heads, monkey?s palms, large tiki masks, brains and other living organs in jars, a garlic necklace, a wooden stake, a cross, a case of silver bullets (which you can get for free with a .22 revolver), an Egyptian amulet, a torch, and a pitchfork. ?Man! What kind of pawnshop is this?? Frankie walked up to the front desk and dinged in. And just as soon as she had done so, two figures popped up from behind the desk, nearly scaring the life out of Frankie. One was a human celebrity and the other was a blue, dragon-like Muppet monster. ?May we help you, madam?? asked the human celebrity, who Frankie seemed to recognized right off the bat (no pun intended). ?Wait?Vincent Price?? She said. ?Aren?t you supposed to be??? ?Living in Beverly Hills?? Price quickly interjected. ?I was, but the sun wasn?t doing much for my skin, so I decided to come here and start up my own personal business.? He snapped his fingers and there came a small display of fireworks over Price and his partner?s heads. The unveiling of a banner that hung at that very spot, which read, ?Price & Deadly?s Little Shop of Terrors?, soon followed it. ?Our motto is always that ?You can kill two birds with one stone, but it would be worth more the price to just buy a gun?.? Uncle Deadly stated. Frankie seemed the least bit impressed. ?Look, I came to the wrong place. I just wanted to purchase a mirror to replace one that was busted back at my house.? She was about to make her way towards the exit, until Deadly disappeared from behind the desk and popped up in front of Frankie. ?Oh, we have plenty of mirrors in our possession, my dear!? ?Yes, indeed.? Price said. ?Some of the finest mirrors imported from all parts of the world: London, Paris, Cambodia?? ??Shanghai, Amsterdam, Peru, and Transylvania!? Deadly added. ?Well?okay.? Frankie said, while pondering over what kinds of scary-looking mirrors could be sold at such a shop. She looked up towards one that was placed on the shelf near the spot where the banner hung. ?I guess I?ll take that one right there.? Price and Deadly looked up at the particular mirror and both grinned. ?That is one of the finest mirrors imported from London and brought to America in Middlesex, Massachusetts in 1692, just as the Salem Witch Trials had begun. Now only one experienced in the forms of witchcraft can make such a selection. Are you a witch, my dear?? ?What?? Frankie exclaimed. ?No! I?I?m not?really!? Price and Deadly instantly started laughing after Price?s (lame) joke. ?Forgive us, madam. It is just the master?s attempt at seventeenth century humor.? Deadly told Frankie, before disappearing in front of her and reappearing behind the front desk, going up a ladder near it and getting the mirror for Frankie. After Deadly came back down with the mirror, Frankie was able to get a perfect glance at it. It appeared to be an average-looking mirror, with a heavy wooden frame and reflective glass. But the craftsmanship of the frame was what spaced Frankie Foster out. The design included the faces of demonic goblins and owls, and a humanoid goblin at the center of the upper portion of the frame with sparkling and yet intimidating rubies for eyes. Frankie knew that the frame was too frightening to keep around the mansion; she was already getting a creepy aura just staring at it. ?No,? Frankie said, ?I?m sorry. I can?t take it.? ?Why not?? Price asked. ?It is very valuable.? ?Just look at the frame on this thing.? Frankie indicated. ?This is a mirror for Marilyn Manson, but not Frankie Foster.? Price retained his creepy smile. ?My dear, it is simply art. The designer intended on it to be a way of protecting the owner, fending off trespassers or thieves who dare enter without permission.? This bit of information intrigued Frankie, although she still found the mirror creepy as sin. But she knew it was a ploy for getting her to purchase the thing, and she wasn?t going to fall for it. ?Nice try. But you have to get up pretty early in the morning to pass one on me.? ?Just take one look in the mirror, my dear.? Price encouraged. ?See how clear the glass is. I must note that the mirror has been passed on through six millenniums. And not once has it been in need of cleansing.? Frankie rolled her eyes in disgust. This guy doesn?t know when to give up, does he? she thought, before gazing upon her reflection in the mirror. She admitted that the storeowner did have a point. Not one single speck or smudge was on the mirror. Of course, it could?ve meant that they recently cleaned it and made it appear as if it hadn?t been for centuries. Then that creepy feeling came back, as she stared at her reflection. It must?ve either been her eyes playing tricks on her or she was exhausted from the trip to the shop, but she could swear that her own reflection was grinning viciously at her. And then after that?darkness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Within moments, the bell above the door ringed, signaling that the customer had left the shop, and the purchase had been made. Price and Deadly continued to stand by the front desk, both having the creepiest smiles on their faces. But soon those smiles had faded, just as pillars of black flames and white smoke appear at the corner of the room. As they vanish unexpectedly, the dark, sinister form of Death entered, towering over Price and Deadly. ?YOU HAVE SOLD THE MIRROR?? The two storeowners tried their best not to cower before the sight of the dark figure. ?Yes?we have,? Price answered. ?She was a bit reluctant at first, but the mirror was able to convince her otherwise.? ?AND SHE DID NOT SUSPECT A THING?? ?Of course not, old friend.? Deadly responded. ?All of the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place.? ?EXCELLENT. SOON OUR HOUR WILL COME, MY FRIENDS. NO LONGER WILL WE BE RESTRICTED TO THE SHACKLES OF LIFE. WE SHALL HAVE OUR FREEDOM.?
__________________
"I'm sorry. Is that okay?" - Wilt
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#2 |
Returning Friend
Join Date: Apr 2007
Location: USA
Posts: 68
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![]() Chapter One Six Weeks Later Dr. Stephanie Zimmermann was an expert on paranormal history and metallurgy, and for a scientist, she had a childlike enthusiasm towards her work, having a forthright acceptance of paranormal activity. She held the record of becoming the youngest professor at Columbia University (22 years of age this girl was), teaching the subject of World History to a class that consisted of students either exactly her age, older, or younger. This was the profession for her, seeing as how she was a young woman known for her wordy and overly technical explanations of scientific and paranormal phenomena. There were often times when her students would absolutely lose their interest or even their place in discussions. Frankie Foster was registered to her class for the semester and always showed up on time with her friend and fellow classmate, Scooter. The both of them loved every bit of what Stephanie taught to the class, taking notes on just about everything that came out of her mouth. With Scooter working at the Muppet Theatre and Frankie at Foster?s, they both were maintaining a delicate balance between all of that and attending classes. Although in recent days, Frankie was beginning to show signs of wearing out, with a complexion that was paler than usual and her hair and clothes all disheveled. Scooter, upon noticing this before they came to Stephanie?s class, felt the need to ask her, ?Are you doing alright, Frankie?? She barely even noticed that he was talking to her, because she felt so exhausted. It was only when he slightly tapped on her shoulder when she acknowledged his question. ?Huh? Oh, yeah. I?m fine.? Instead of going on any further about (which would exhaust her even more), Scooter just left her alone while Stephanie taught a subject on that particular morning at the university, which was one of Scooter?s favorites: the Salem witch trials. It was a rather intriguing subject for a Southerner from Tennessee like her to teach. ?Although they were known as the Salem trials, the hearings were held all over the province, from Salem Village to Andover. The best-known trials were conducted by the Court of Oyer and Terminer in Salem Town, circa 1692.? Before Stephanie could continue on, Scooter raised his hand up in the air. He and Frankie (when she wasn?t acting like a zombie) were always the ones in the class who would be expected to raise their hands for a question, because they were so interested in the subject. Stephanie pointed to Scooter said his name (in common teacher fashion), and Scooter then asked, ?Why did they accuse each other of being witches? Were they that superstitious back then?? ?Well, you have to think of it in terms of religion, Scoot.? Stephanie stated. ?The Puritans believed in the existence of an invisible world inhabited by God and the angels, including the Devil, who was seen as a fallen angel. Some Puritans have believed that this world can be seen as visibly as the one around us through that of a ?special? mirror brought by one of the settlers from England, only months before the trials even occurred.? Frankie?s snoring had suddenly become the center of attention, just as soon after Stephanie uttered the word ?mirror.? She looked next to where Scooter stood and noticed her head flat on her desk, which was starting to become drenched with her own saliva. Realizing the trouble she was about to get herself into, Scooter slightly nudged her and whispered, ?Frankie?wake up! You?re going to get sent out of class!? She felt his nudge and slowly started to wake up, lifting her head with the saliva running down the side of her mouth and looking straight ahead at Stephanie, who was grinning. ?Not getting enough sleep, Frankie?? Zimmermann said. Frankie uttered something that sounded very garbled to everyone, and they instantly started laughing, realizing how far gone she was. Quickly, Scooter refocused the attention back on the subject that he and Stephanie were discussing. ?So?they used this mirror to pass the judgment?? ?Not exactly.? Stephanie remarked, trying her best to ignore Frankie, as her head went back down on the desk. ?It has been known that the twenty-nine people of Salem convicted of the capital felony of witchcraft have looked through this mirror sometime before their execution.? Scooter became more and more interested. ?Why hasn?t this mirror ever been brought up in the historical records?? ?Because no one takes somethin? as small as an antique mirror serious enough to be recorded as evidence of the situation.? Stephanie said. ?Only people who?ve read Tobin?s Spirit Guide even know about it.? As Zimmermann continued on with the lecture, Scooter?s mind only drifted off for a minute, directing his attention to his backpack. He reached down and into it, pulling out an old, worn-out copy of the book that Stephanie had mentioned. He flipped through several pages before finding his target: a topic on the history of the witch trials of Salem. On the page was a picture of a mirror with a wooden frame that had the faces of goblins, owls, and a man with ruby eyes delicately craved into it. It was quite a bizarre mirror, enough to convince any resident of Salem at the time of the trials that the owner was a witch himself. He even looks like one, Scooter thought, as he glanced over at the image on the page of the mirror?s owner. What a strange man with a strange name. What kind of name is? RING! Scooter?s attention immediately snapped away from the book, as he had closed it up and placed it and the rest of his items back in his bag, while Stephanie gave one last instruction to the class. ?Remember, Friday is ?Quiz Day?, so don?t forget to study your butts off.? As every other student left the classroom to either go their next class or dormitory, Scooter turned to Frankie and woke her up again. He was surprised that not even the bell was able to do so. She slowly got up from her desk and faced Scooter with her eyes halfway closed. ?I?m sorry, Scooter. I don?t feel so good today. I?ll see ya later.? ?Where are you going?? Scooter asked her. ?Back to Foster?s,? she said. ?I?m gonna try and get some sleep.? ?Good idea.? Scooter remarked. ?See you then. She tried to wave goodbye to him, but she was barely able to lift her arm up in the air. While she was walking away, Scooter took this opportunity to have an after-class chat with Stephanie. ?Dr. Zimmermann,? the gofer said, ?There was some other questions I wanted to ask about this mirror. I found some info about it in?? ?Sorry, Scoot,? Stephanie said. ?I wish I had the time to talk. But I?m supposed to meetin? with my colleagues in a few minutes. Bring it up on Friday after the quiz, okay?? ?Uh?sure.? Scooter said with a sigh, before walking out of the classroom with her, heading in the opposite direction she was going in the hallway. ?See ya later.? ?See ya.? Stephanie uttered, while going to her office, which was just a few doors away from the classroom. Just as she made it to the door and was about to open it, it suddenly opened by itself and a man came out, with his buttoned shirt wide open and blue jeans that were unzipped, carrying his tennis shoes as he was walking out. Stephanie had never seen this man before, whether he was a student or a fellow member of the faculty. It then became clear who he just might be, as soon as she heard the voice of her 21-year-old colleague, Dr. Jessica Lauren, past the closing door. ?Baby, baby, please don?t go!? Jessica cried, as she came out with nothing more than a bed sheet wrapped around her body. It came a large surprise to see Jessica in such a position to Stephanie, but it was even more of a surprise as groups of repossession agents carrying off several items from their office. ?Why did ya?ll pick now to be at time to rip us off?? Stephanie kept her attention solely on her, demanding to get some answers. ?What the heck?s goin? on? And please tell me that they?re moving us to a better office on campus!? ?I wish!? Jessica remarked with a smug expression. ?Apparently, we?re bein? moved off campus!? Stephanie?s eyes widened with disbelief, just as she heard another voice that came from behind them. ?That?s right, Dr. Zimmermann.? It was the dean, a purple whatnot Muppet with brown hair that most on campus addressed as ?Mr. Yeager.? ?The Board of Regents has decided to terminate your grant. You are to vacate these premises immediately.? ?I don?t believe this.? Stephanie uttered. ?Then believe this, Dr. Zimmermann,? Yeager said, ?This University will no longer continue any funding for any of your group activities.? ?This is about that dude who I?d given electroshocks to, every time he got the wrong answer durin? the parapsychology exams, ain?t it?? Jessica inquired. Yeager shuddered at the way Dr. Lauren spoke in her Southern accent. ?Doctor?Lauren,? he said, uttering her name like it was a curse, ?The purpose of science is to serve mankind. You seem to regard science as some kind of dodge?or hustle. Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy, and your conclusions are highly questionable! You are a poor excuse for a scientist, Dr. Lauren!? ?Well, since you?re no longer writin? my checks, I can freely tell ya to kiss my poor excuse for a butt!? Jessica retorted, before finally realizing what she just said. ?Wait a minute. That didn?t come out right.? Drifting the subject the conversation away from Jessica?s butt and on her bad comeback, Stephanie asked, ?Has Christina been informed about any of this, Mr. Yeager?? ?We have been unsuccessful in contacting Dr. Renee.? Yeager stated. ?And, frankly, I do not wish to waste any time. She is as just as useless to this college as you both are.? ?Hey! Christina Renee is one of the most brilliant minds of this college and of this planet!? Jessica snapped. ?I?d show the woman a little respect!? ?Please.? Yeager said subtly. ?The way you women stand by each other is pathetic.? Jessica and Stephanie both frowned over Yeager?s comment, uncertain whether to take it as an insult towards their gender or the fact that they often did have each other?s back. ?Not only do you have no place in this department or this university, but you have no place in this world either.? Yeager began to walk away from the two women, while more repossession agents walked out of their office. Suddenly, the phone (the only thing that had yet to be taken out of the office) rang. Jessica and Stephanie quickly rushed inside their soon-to-be-former office and answered the phone, as it sat on what was left of Stephanie?s desk. ?Hello?? she answered. ?Stephanie, it?s Christina.? The voice was serious and straightforward; it was the voice a real dedicated scientist. ?I just received a call from one of the friends on your student, Scooter. Something strange is happening at the Muppet Theatre. I need you and Jessica over here as soon as possible.? The mind of Stephanie Zimmermann began racing, as several possibilities of supernatural occurrence started to come to mind. She had heard all kinds of tales running through the city of people experiencing phenomenal contact with ghosts, spooks, and apparitions of all shapes, sizes, colors, etc. and wished that she had that much ?luck.? If there was one good thing out of being kicked out of the university, it was the freedom she would gain out of going out and investigating the occurrences. Zimmermann did her best to maintain her composure as she spoke to Christina over the phone. ?O-Okay. Jessica and I will be there in thirty?? She stopped for a moment to glance over at the partially nude Jessica, doing a quick estimation through her head. ?Ninety minutes.? END OF CHAPTER ONE
__________________
"I'm sorry. Is that okay?" - Wilt
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#3 |
Foster's Legend
Join Date: Nov 2016
Location: 1123 Wilson Way
Posts: 1,085
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![]() Lots of franchises in this one.
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