The Lost Tale
by Ting Chen, age 18, Alexandria High School
Oct 29, 2012 | 770 views |  0 comments | 3 3 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Upon an eerie night, thunder blast through the lonely woods. In the mist of the dark sea a faint smoke rose into the stormy sky. Beyond those ancient oak trees a forgotten cottage stood rotting with decay. There in the mist lived Hababa, the last of his kind, with jagged yellow teeth, bristling goatee, and this stench of old, dry blood from those lost victim. His piercing stare goes right through the layers of dirt covering them filthy children. Clink clank Hababa hammered his rusty ax. Thunder rumbled he glared out the stain covered window. Something is out there he sniffed the air when a devilish grin spread across his wrinkled face.

Meanwhile five hundred acres away there was a little village called Burnsville. Things were running quietly when uproar occurred in front of a small burn down wooden house. “There’s a devil in there,” shout villager one pointing at the inflamed house. Soon everyone was screaming and shouting, they watch the house crumble to the ground. Nothing was left, but ashes in the chaos. “Hooray! Satan is dead!” cheered the crowd. While they celebrate the destruction of the red-man, behind the scotched tree a shadow lurks.

The shadow ran deeper into the woods as it swallows him like a starving wolf. Panting rapidly the little boy prop up against a sturdy tree. The boy, Luke, was an orphan covered in snout from head to toe. Wearing ripped clothes too big for his fragile form. He glance back to see if anyone notices him escaping from the abandon house now nothing but a past memory. Crunch! Crunch! Luke twitched not daring to look toward the sound of twigs snapping under a heavy belt.

Hababa crouch behind a giant purple mushroom hoping that his dinner didn’t hear him coming. He reaches behind his back grabbing hold of the glistering ax as drool escape between his thin cracked lips. Ba-bump! Ba-bump! His heart pound against the back of his throat fear creeping down his spine. Luke slowly stood up turning around just enough to catch a gleam of yellow in the spiked bush. It felt like a life time went by since the escape from the angry villagers. The wind howled into their ears while the trees dance, swaying back and forth, back and forth.

Rustled, Hababa pounce out from the cover of the darkness with his ax high above his bear-like ears. The boy took off running dodging the flying ax this way and that. The chase was on the predictor and the prey, the hunter and the hunted. They ran for hours coming across huge sticky spider-webs, sluggish creatures in the pitch black darkness, and never ending tree lines blocking every inch of light from passing through the thick, flat leaves.

Panting fast and hard Luke stopped to catch a delicious breath, glancing past his heaving shoulders the monster was no where in sight. Thought that he lost the dreadful killer Luke relaxes with a heavy sign of relief. When suddenly swish! The invisible ax went straight down the middle of his shocked struck face. His body fell limply toward the ground with a thug. Hababa felt weary and triumphed with the nights kill, glide toward the dead body. He bends over to pick up the body and slang it over his shoulder. Filled with achievement of the hunt Hababa throw his freshly hunted victim on the blood stained table. While he was preparing the materials for his massive supper, something within Luke’s dead body stirred. Ba-thump! Ba-thump! Startled by the sudden sound from behind Hababa turned around to find the body that he laid on the table no longer there! Searching for clues where the body could have went. Scratch. Scratch. He grinned smoothly grabbed his ax he walked toward the half close closet. Slowly opening the wearing door with a creek his glee fill eyes turn in horror. Ahhhhhh….his scream rang throughout the long cold night. What have happen to him and the boy was forever unknown.
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The Lost Tale by Ting Chen, age 18, Alexandria High School

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