Fritz (short story I wrote)

patience (@patience) 9 years, 7 months ago

Hi guys, just before I post it, I’d just like to ask if you could critique and offer me advice on how to improve it? It has a bit of a creepypasta theme, but it’s not as creepy as I’d like it to be, so if anyone could offer some editing tips or anything, it’d be much appreciated :)
I know it’s not exactly as a deep topic as it could be on High Existence but ye :P

My wife Michelle and I moved into this house about a month ago. It’s a small, cosy, cottage-like brick house with a blue roof and white walls, and it’s about a 30 minute drive out of town. It has two bedrooms, a kitchen, lounge, laundry, bathroom, so it was a pretty standard looking house. Except for the old tin shed.

I can’t explain why, but the old tin shed out in the paddock has always frightened me. It’s just how you would imagine an old tin shed to be, it was rusty, covered in moss, and the wooden door was nearly off the hinges. When we first looked at the house to buy it, the property manager showed us how great it could be to store all of our tools in. At first I agreed with this, because I have many tools, being an electrical engineer and all. But something made me shudder when I examined the inside of it. Cobwebs were hanging down everywhere, it had a damp dirt floor, and it seemed weirdly warm in there – considering it was cold and windy outside.

When I questioned the property manager about it, he had this to say. “The last owners of this house were spiritual nutters. They said that they sensed some sort of evil “boogeyman” entity in here. Personally I just think that’s hogwash, they were crazy to want to sell this house for so cheap. You don’t believe in that sort of stuff, do you?” I was just about to answer him when my wife interrupted him and said “Of course not, right John?” I just mumbled in an incoherent groan. Truth was, I did believe in sprits, and I could sense that there was one here too. But Michelle seemed too happy and I didn’t want to dissapoint her, so we brought the house.

At first everything seemed great. We paid for the house straight away with our collective savings. Our two cats Minnie and Fritz settled in quickly and so did we. Michelle enjoyed being away from the city as she had grown up on a farm. “Oh John, it reminds me of when I was a kid, doing all the farmwork with Dad and spending the night watching television and drinking milo. I love it!”. I just put on a fake smile and agreed with her. It was all I could do. I didn’t bother telling her that the old tin shed was the only thing on my mind.

About three weeks after we moved in, I had a very strange and vivid dream. I was dreaming that I was my tabby cat, Fritz, and I was walking around the inside of our new home. Now, we’d always talked about how Fritz was a weird cat, he was very jumpy and he would always stare into our old fireplace for hours on end, even when it wasn’t lit. We named him Fritz because of his irradic and seemingly peculiar nature. Anyway, in the dream, it seemed as if I had become my cat in every possible way, it was like my thoughts and perception were that of a cat’s. I walked over to the catbowl and ate some food, licked my fur, typical cat behaviour. But that wasn’t what made this dream so strange.

I suddenly bolted out of the little cat-door at the back of the house and ran across the paddock towards the old tin shed. Through Fritz eyes, it had a pulsating red glow, with a very menacing undertone to it. But I kept running anyway, something was drawing me to it. I sat down at the front of the old tin shed and stared at the wooden door. It was very big from where I was sitting, or should I say, where Fritz was sitting. That was when I heard the heavy footsteps from behind the door, thud, thud, thud, like someone with steel-toed workboots was treading the ground in there.

Then all of a sudden the door swung open with a loud BANG! against the side of the shed. There was barely time to look at the dark, tall figure that stood in the doorway. I got such a fright and to say the least, I ran the hell out of there, faster than the wind itself. I remember thinking how free and powerful it felt to be a cat, as I ran back into the house through the little cat-door.

I quickly made my way back into the bedroom and jumped up on the bed, and started nudging at my owner’s face. This was where the dream ended and I awoke to my cat panting and headbutting at me, trying to get my attention.

They have always said cats are more in-tune with the spirit world. Guess I know why now.

June 11, 2012 at 7:10 am
patience (147) (@patience) 9 years, 7 months ago ago

Note this is only a draft and took about an hour… Need to use “I” a hell of a lot less. and thanks if you bothered to read it :) It’s 2 am here, gonna check this thread tomorrow. Peace and love y’all, thanks again

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