James Crow

James was having a nightmare. "idiots," he cursed at the people in his dream. He woke with a start, and realised that the day had simply passed him by. He saw the end of a cloak enter Schecerazde's room. James rushed in after it, the storm raging in his eyes. Again everything was as it had been. She waited for him to tell a part of the story, and it waited to destroy everything he loved. James, calmed down, looked at Schecerazde and said, "Sorry I won't be able to finish the story tonight, had a bad day at work." She nodded, understandingly. "TELL ME ABOUT IT," hissed he Cloaked Man. James and Schecerazde smiled at each other. "Now onto the story!" Schecerazde said giddily. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ But I wanted to see the show. Inside the tent was dark. I remembered the doll, but wasn't as scared because I could hear the crowd laughing at the clowns. There was four clowns, two adults and two children, under the lights of the big top. It started normaly, with the pies and seltzer water. The laughter started to grow. Then one of the children ran away, followed by a narrow beam of light. It ran into the stands, straight across from me. The laughter grew to a low rumble. The scene with the clowns changed. They started to look for the child, searching high and low. Slowly the spotlights changed to blue. They started to cry, their makeup slowly dissolving from their faces. "OVER THERE!" I shouted and pointed, but the laughter had grown to a roar and they could not hear me. I turned and saw that the child that had ran away was mirroring my every move, shouting, pointing, at ME! I turned to the other clowns and saw a sight that gripped me with fear. I KNEW THOSE FACES! I quickly ran out of the big tent, the echoes of laughter following me.... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ "Okay, that's all for tonight," James said. Schecerazde, nodded and went quickly got ready to go to sleep. "WHAT!? BUT....GRRRRRRR" The figure growled as he left. James started for his room, "sorry for not finishing the story," he whispered when he reach the doorway. "That's okay James, you had a hard day. Just please finish it tommorow," Schecerazde pleaded. James nodded and crossed his heart. She then quickly went to bed, ready for the next night to come. Outside the Cloaked man sat, talking to no one, and listening to no one. Just him, and the storm in his eyes.....

Been there, am there, and will hopefuly never leave. For if I were too stop and think straight thought for once I belive the worl would be...squirl! Sorry, what I ment to say was....beautiful work and can't wait to read the next one!

I love this poem. And I know that I have done things like this to my mom. I loved it and would love to see more....please!!!

James waked in the courtyard, on a pile of dead leaves. "why out here? amusing, though." He heard the laughter of a young girl, different than Schecerazade, older it seemed. James eyes lit up, with a twinge of annoyance. "Not you," he hissed through clenched teeth. He heard the little voice pout some, then fly away. Relaxing in the leaves, felt good, and he closed his eyes once more, finally a moment to myself. Or so he thought till something bit him. Leaping up with a yelp of surprise, he spun around. The culprit was easy to spot in the autumn rainbow. It was a small pigeon. James smiled and picked it up. "Why look at that, a little carrier pigeon. Why would you be in these leaves, and where would your letter be?" The bird only responded by raising and lowering his wings, as if in a shrug. "Well that is okay little friend. Go home, or stay and rest here. Doesn't matter much to me. Though if you need water or food, you can always head into my room." It seemed to nod and flew up and towards the tavern. James let out a long sigh, knowing he still had a guest. "After you." There was a loud crack of thunder, and the storm returned, with its herald, close behind. If the Cloaked Man was surprised that James knew he was there, he didn't show it. He simply floated past James and towards the tavern. James went to follow but saw sothing in the middle of the courtyard. It looked like a sliver of glass with a duck-taped handle. And in the flickering light of the courtyard it seemed to be stained red. The image sent a chill up his spine. He wished to investigate, but had pressing matters. Turning he followed the Cloaked Man. The storm, masking the echoes of a larger battle. The scene had become very familiar to James. Schecerazde sitting on her bed, waiting for him to come in and tell a story. The Cloaked man, standing in the doorway, waiting to destroy them all. But this time James was ready. He smiled as he went into the room. "ready for our story, little one." "Yes, James. But, I need to wake up early sooo if it isn't to big of an issue, can we, maybe...." James nodded. He had forgot how long this story was, so he had knew it would take one more night, if he was to keep tricking the Cloaked Man. She clapped happily. "WHY DO YOU NEED TO WAKE UP EARLY?" James cringed at the Cloaked Man's voice. He knew that she couldn't tell the real reason, so that James could finish and start a new story the next night. "So that Muse and I can figure out what we are going to wear on Halloween so we can get the most candy trick-or-treating. Why else, silly?" James gave out a sigh as the Cloaked Man gave a harumph. James then smiled and said, "Let us continue with the story." ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ The tent closed, and I turned around. There, sitting in the only circle of light was a doll. Like any that my sis had. I crept close. I always hated dolls, and when this ones eye's opened I knew she wasn't any different. little boy, littlee boy. come here "stupid doll, stupid doll, how bout no!" I wispeared. Then the light flicked off, then on. And she was gone! then I will come to you! Came a voice behind me. I freaked and spun around. All I could see was darkness. I started to back up, only to trip. I fell on my back in the ring of light. Slowly the doll came in after me, first one foot, then a leg, arm, body and head. Her face was still lost in shadows. why don't you want to play with me, since we are the SAME! The lights finally caught the dolls face, and it was like looking into a mirror. Fear got me and I ran out of the tent. My heart pounding. I looked around to tell someone, ANYONE, what I saw. But everyone was gone. The crowd, the carny, nowhere. I started to look around some more. Slowly what I had saw left me, and I heard that carny voice again. "Come one, come all. To the show that will not disappoint. The show under, the BIG....TOPS.....POINT!" I then heard a crowd cheer. I turned a corner, and saw the big top. I nearly fell over trying to see its top. The crowd must have already gone in, so I followed. But just as I went into the tent I saw a couple that looked somehow familiar, like some people I had left behind. But I wanted to see the show.... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ "Okay," James said, "Time for bed. Tomorrow I will finish the story and the nice man over there will destory us all." Schecerazde put her hand up to her mouth, holding back her giggles. With another harumph, the Cloaked man vanished. James smiled and left, heading back to his room. But as he reached the door he heard a distant voice. The voice of an old friend. 'James, don't underestimate your opponent, he is not one to be trifled with.' "neither am I" James hissed, a dark storm raging in his eyes. Out in the storm, the Cloaked man stood, speaking as if to the storm. "I THINK HE IS TOYING WITH US! WE NEED TO DESTROY HIM!" 'no ' Whispered the wind. "BUT..." 'NO! ' Roared the thunder. 'he will open the gate,' returned the wind. 'and as all hallows eve draws near, so does my true power.' "AS YOU WISH, THEN I WILL SEE IT DONE." With that, the Cloaked Man vanished once again into the darkness of the storm. 'two pawns, one of black, and one of white. on all hallows eve, will become sacrificed ' The wind laughed, and was soon echoed by all parts of the storm.....

The mourning spead pass by, and the darkness once again approached the Keep of The Mighty Pen, heralded by the Cloaked Man. James stood outside the tavern, looking as though waiting for something. The man approched, James still looked into the distance. "WAITING ON ME?" "no, just a long lost friend," James finally acknowledged the herald, and gave out a sigh. "Time already, huh?" With that he turned and walked up the stairs. Scheherazade was ready, as the few nights before. And as James entered the room she greeted him as always. "James! Are you going to finish the story tonight?" She could not help but let her worry slip through in her voice. With a shake of his head and a grin he responed, "You know I can't do that. The Big Top is a fairly long story and it is already later than normal." Her grin returned. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ The answears would come, to bad they would come too late. Being only ten I found the circus to be larger than life. Where to start? As I thought that question I heard a large man's voice boom, "Come one come all, see the girl that's a living doll! Face of porcelain, hair of hourse, suffered the curse of living, yet fated to worse!" I started to go over, drawn by his voice. "You son, you right there!" His long, pointed finger, slowly rose and found me out of the crowd. "How would you like to be the first to lay eyes on this wonder?" I nodded, the large crowd parted and I went inside. He parted the tent to let me in, and as I looked back one last time I thought I saw in the crowd a couple of faces that looked familiar. The tent closed, and I turned around.... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ "Sorry," James said to Scheherazade, "But it is getting late." "But..." He held his finger up to his lip. "It is late, and time for bed. I will finish the story tomorrow." "Cross your heart." He nodded. She rolled over, and went right to sleep. The Figure vanished. And James stepped into the hall, sighed, "tomorrow will be diffrent." With that he walked across the hall into his room. Outside, in the storm the Cloked Figure once again stepped from the shadows, in front of him was the portraits of the elders and many other pennites. He approached the mirror that was there. For it came an almost inhuman voice, "does he suspect?" "NO," boomed the Cloaked Man, "AND WITH THIS CLOAK, I DOUBT HE WILL TILL IT IS TO LATE" 'good" The Cloaked Man then took his leave, once again into the darkness. And through the keep, an eerie wind blew. A wind that almost sounded of laughter...

The night came to soon for James. He didn't have a story. And when the Light parted and the Cloaked Man appeared, James sighed. been a good run he mummbled. "Let's go," he said to the Cloaked Man. It was much like the night before, Scheherazade was waiting in her bed, ready for James to amaze her with worlds she had never seen. Her smile helped him a little but his heart sank further. "JAMEs," she asked, seeing his look. "time to finish the story," James said with a smile that sent a chill down her spine. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ The one brave missing was Rolling Rock, the Daughter's true love..... None of the braves knew where he was. The Daughter started to cry. Night after night, the tears poured like that of an endless storm. On the fifth day the Chief called to his barves once again. "FIND ME ROLLING ROCK!" The braves searched high and low for the missing brave, and everywhere they went they left a sign, 'Whatch for rolling rock'. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ "the end," James said, his hollow voice echoing through the halls, like the last bells at midnight. James knew that the faceless man was grinning, he had won. And the Cloaked Man rose, "A deal is a de..." "NO!" Shouted the Scheherazade, "That is not a good story. I demand another one." "but i don..." "I want to hear the one about the boy and the clown. I really like that one." James could not turn down that smile, so he simple nodded. "..al" finished the Cloaked figure as he sat down, listening. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ It was raining that day, the circus was in town. I decided to go and see the show. Going to the ticket booth to pay, the man inside looked at me, shook his head,"Your money is no good here. Just go, enjoy the show." I eagerly walked in, humming to myself. But something, in the back of my head was bothering me with questions: why did I get in for free, why did he sart to cry when I passed him. The answears would come, to bad they would come too late..... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ *YAWN* "Sorry," Scheherazade said,"I love this story but I need to wake up early, so can we finish it tomorrow, pleasssse!" Again with that irresistible smile. And again James nodded. He knew what she had done, and was thankful. The cloaked Figure vanished ans James, went over and kissed the girl on the top of her head. "another night down," he whispered. As he left and closed the door, Scheherazade smiled.

Depends on what your after. The first one seems like a man/woman speaking of that feeling that you get you you kill somethin; more familiar type of kill. While the other sound like he/she is saying how the kill sends a chill down your spine; a type of kill. Hopefully that makes sense and helps some.

"Earth to James..." Came the small voice of the young girl. Shaking his head, "Whatwhowhenwherewhy!" The girl laughed, "Silly James you were going to tell me a bedtime story, silly." He smiled, then from the corner of his eye he spyed the cloaked figure. "right," James nodded, his smile fading slightly. Now for our first story....... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ This is the tale of Rolling Rock. It takes place long ago and far away in a land known as the Americas. The Cheif's daughter had just come of age to be wed. The Cheif then gathered all of his strongest braves. "YOUMUST PASS THREE TEST! THE PERSON THAT DOES WILL WED MY DAUGHTER," boomed the cheif. All of the braves nodded. Their first test, one of skill. They needed to find the egg of an owl. All the braves returned, gift in hand. The next test was one of strength. They needed to get bring back the skin of a great bear, killed only by their hands. All of the braves again returned, gift in hand. The final test was one of mind. They where to find the rare white rose, that blooms only on a full red moon. All but one of the braves returned, empty handed. The one brave missing was Rolling Rock, the Daughter's true love..... ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ "You are looking tired, Scheherazade." James said. "no", came the weak yawn. "We will finish the story tomorrow, okay." She looked at him, her eyes telling him it was to short. James gestured to the cloaked man. this once, Scheherazade mouthed. thank you, James responded. With that the young girl turned over and went to sleep. Guess we have to wait till tomorrow so I can finish," James laughed. Then turning to the other man asked, "Is that a problem?" The figure, obviously annoyed, just fanished into the darkness. "One night down", James wispered, "Let's see how many more I can get through."

Dressed in a velvet gown of white, she enters the ballroom. Not knowing that it was a trap! Chicken wire fell from above! Somewhere, in another part of the house she heard the ticking of a stopwatch. "I don't have all day Mr. Sanders, when will this new meal of yours be ready." "That is colonel to you yank! And I just needen my ingredients.... thyme, spice, zest.

I am with Snypiuer on this one. No more baths for me....ever! But that just goes to show how good a job you did.

This is just.....depressingly beautiful. Thanks for writing it, for doing so you have given praise to those who won't (but should) give it to themselves.

The Mighty Pen; a place of thousands of thoughts and thousands of possibilities, a place that is different to each person that walks its halls. On this particular day a pennite rises from room in the Tavern of the Quill and gets ready to head down the stairs. Downstairs a group of pennites is singing songs of the glory days, while some others play the instruments, and a particularly beautiful women dances on the table, her stunning dress swaying this way and that, and the laughter, the laughter that sounds like thunder echoes through the room. Down the stairs comes the pennite that woke. He strolls to one of the tables, not paying head to the others. And as he sits the others fade into the phantoms of dust that there were. Dust, being blown around from the storm winds outside coming through the broken door and shattered windows. He sighs and the inch thick dust rises to greet him. Behind the pennite a man in a hooded cloak, as dark as the shadows he stands in, watches, then in a blink, he vanishes. The pennite stands and leaves, noting the rooms he walks past, each rundown and in disarray. Yet he stops at one, just for a minute, shakes his head and leaves. The sign above the condemned door reads: Recruiter’s Office. As he steps out onto the cobblestone walkways he notes the Manor of Tongues, old and abandoned, the spitting image of the classic horror house, even with the wind blowing through it just right to make an eerie wail. Hugging his duster closer to him to fight the chill of the wind and the sight he laughs. “The Manor of Tongues has one of its own,” he muses. Behind him the cloaked figure watches, still. The pennite finds his path has lead him to the walls of the Mighty Pen. Smiling, as he sees the FAQ Bulletin Board, so many memories of staring out and looking here. Another gust of wind blows and for the first time he notices movement at the corner of his eye. Spinning around to see the culprit was merely an old newspaper talking abut “new skins”. He follows it with a smile, when it hits a portrait as his smile fades. The faces of the elders of the pen, stare down on him, judging him. He gulps as a shiver runs down his spine. He looks at the other faces on display at the piazza, only to feel the same look. Scared he turns to flee, his heart skips a beat when he see his face looking back at him. “J-Ju-Just a m-mirror,” he stutters, gaining little of no composer back. He then continues his journey. As he turns and leaves, his reflection watches, and then vanishes. Next he finds himself going through the passageway. On one side of him stands the Writer’s Workshop, windows and doors broken down like many of the other places he has seen. Half finished works, waiting for someone to give that one piece of advice to complete them, dance on the winds, rewriting themselves by combining with their brothers. “Should have gone there,” muses the pennite. As he turns to the building on his other side he finishes with a smile, “and possibly there too.” His cheeks turn a little red, not due to the chill of the storm. There standing before him is the Scarlet Pen, boarded up and broken like all the others. The only thing suggesting what it was it a lantern hanging from the sign, it’s flame long burned out and it’s red stain glass cracked and broken. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself, then resumes his trek. All the while, the cloaked figure watches him from the beginning of the passageway. Now he comes to the final stop on the journey, the mighty Athenaeum. Merely just overgrown and forgotten, it was a place of his peers. He walks inside foliage from the great courtyard covers the marble floor of the Minstrels’ Hall. He stops, fear gripping him now more that ever, does he enter the courtyard. He takes a deep breath, and steps into it. He is shocked, the flowers that once must have grown here, are just thorn bushes, and the great oak tree that many an elder has sat and contemplated is….is……DEAD! Gnarly limbs reach into the sky, as if a giant bony hand was reaching out of the grave. He takes a step back in mere horror, only to hear a voice behind him, “They are never coming back, James.” James spins around to see the cloaked figure that has been stalking him, standing in the entranceway. “And I am going to destroy the Mighty Pen,” the figure finished. James realizing what is at stake regains his composer. “Why?” “Simple, too much money is being use to keep open a graveyard.” James was stunned, and when he went to argue he found that it was true. “Now, if you would go back to sleep I shall return to my work.” “Wait,” James said thinking quickly, “If you must destroy the Mighty Pen, can I say goodnight to one person?” The figure’s face was in cloaked by shadows, but James could feel the question. “Please, it means the world to me, then I will go right to bed.” “Fine,” the figure said, recently. “Thank you.” James took off to the tavern, rushed through the broken door, up the stairs, and found the door he was looking for. All the while the figure followed, to make sure bargains where kept. James prayed, prayed to the pennites’, to the elders, and to the gods, that she was there. Feeling the impatience behind him, he opened the door. There in the finest silk nighty was a girl, about fourteen. Kneeling by her bedside, saying her prayers. James smiled, “How are tonight.” The little girls spun around surprised, “JAMES!” She cried as she jumped into his arms. “Its been so long,” she said, smiling. James took the little girl in his arm and hugged her hard. “Yes it has. But right now it is bedtime.” He picked her up and carried her to her bed. “But,” she said. James shook his head, “sorry but it is late.” “Please, tell me a story,” she said, using her best puppy face. “Fine,” James said, shaking his head as she smiled. “Just one story then right to sleep, alright Scheherazade.” “Okay,” she said settling herself in for the story.

Oh stuffed animal, you've seen me cry, tears shed because of lies, heard me whisper, I want to die. But you embraced me. Told me everything would be fine, soon I will be on cloud nine. I just had to fight the tortures of time. Then you held me through the nights.

That missing piece. The one eluding me, keeping me from sleep. The one... on the tip of my tongue. That stops it all. Putting everything on halt. If only I could find a cease to that missing piece.

Normally I do my best thinking in the shower....then anoyingly forget it when the water stops. IT BITES!! Other than that I search the internet, read a book, listen to friends/coworkers, talk to myself (sometimes that gets awkwards), watch tv, stare at something I find beautiful (also sometimes awkwards), or close my eyes and stop. I might look through a notebook(s) that have unfinished ideas, or half-baked thoughts. It might help to have a place like that. A place to put the unfinshed or half-baked ideas, in hope that a person gets an idea from it, or finishes it (just a thought). For some of the other questions, about a theme, setting, or pattern, I'm still trying to find what I'm confortable with, so not much help there. But in the end I seem to fall back to the first poem that ment something to me......hope that helps.

I was sitting at my office, not much need for a private eye when Mayor Nicholas, The Saint, is cleaning up the town. I was about to call it a day and go home, but luck walked in my door, and did she look good. Tall ,thin, raven hair, and a Spanish complexion, with an accent to match. “Are you Señor Kringel?”Giving a sigh I responded, “Yes, now please tell me what's the problem?”“I am afraid for my life Señor Kringel! I ran into some financial problems and had to borrow some money, now he is trying to collect.”“I am no bank Miss.”“PLEASE!! I think he wants to asesinato me. I beg you Señor Kringel, I have no where else to go.” She sank into the chair in front of me, tears pouring down her face. How could I say no?“Fine. But please call me Kris.”“Gracias, muchas veces,Señ....Kris. I preform at Anillos de Oro at five tonight, meet me there.”She got up and went to leave, ”Miss, what is your name?”“El Toe.”She left, Miss El Toe, the famous lounge singer, this was going to be a long case.♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣I arrived at Anillos de Oro, the crowd inside looked normal for that time of night. I found a seat and ordered a shot of White Christmas. The curtain arose and out came a small man, panic covered his face. “Señoras and señores I am s..sorry to announce that, ahum, sorry. T...that Miss El Toe will not be performing tonight. That is correct, n..no El tonight, no El tonight.”He quickly ran off stage as a few chairs hit where he was standing. I stood up and went to the back. I found a lot of the girls whispering and gasping at the sight of me backstage. The little man ran up to me, “You can't be back here señor, p...please leave.”“Miss El was my client,” I said looking into his pale face. “I need to know what happened.”“I...I know nothing s...señor., p...please leave”“I won't leave till I get some answers.”“I said...”“Cut the act, Feliz!” Came the voice from one of the dancers.The little man bolted. Damn. I looked over at the dancer, “You know something?”As she came over, a large grin showed itself, “I just might, it's going to cost you though.”I HATE when this stuff happens, but I gritted my teeth and said, “How much?!”“Simple, a job.”“WHAT?!?!?!”“I'm tired of shaking my tush for spare change. So...you need information and I need an out.”Looking at the slightly short, freckled faced, redhead, I didn't see any other choice. So, shaking my head I said, “Fine.”“SHAKE, first.”After the shake she told me everything. Miss El had a gambling problem, she lost...a lot! And worse it was at old Kracker's place. Nu T. Kracker was an old china man that had made a heafty name for himself in the city. It didn't look good for Miss El.As I left the bar a car drove up and a couple of men took a few shots at me. They then sped off into the fog. I hailed a cab, got in saying, “FOLLOW THAT CAR!”“*hik* That no 'roblem*hic*”I looked in the mirror to see the drivers face, he was a man, mid forties, whose red nose told me he was drunk. “Let me out!”“*hic* Now youdon't worry*hic*Old Rudolph 'nose the way through*hic*thefog*hic*”And away we sped, corner after corner. Near accedent past near accedent. We, no I should say HE lost them. “*hic* 'ell damn*hic*tis' nevr 'appen before*hic*”I got out...paid him....and started to walk to my appartment. All of a sudden I heard a women scream and ran to investagate. I saw two large men dragging Miss El into an old warehose. Damn, that drunk actually did it!I snuck up to the door and listened, they said something about waiting for the boss to arrive. That's not good. I went up the fire escape, just as I heard a car pull up, the old man himself. I hurred my pace and waited out the window Miss El was being held in.Time seemed to slow down as I waited for the footsteps to grow closer, closer, CLOSER. The door knob started to turn and I pulled out my revolver. Nu steped in, closed the door, saying something to the others in chinesse. He looked at Miss El, and pulled out a dagger, that is when I stepped in. “Hold it Nu! One step closer and I'll plug you.” He stoped, glaring at me. “El!” I waved for her to come over to me. She did, but tripped halfway. I heard the loud footsteps of the guards running up the stairs.Nu gave me a sickening grin, “Now choose, women or life...better hurry.”“How 'bout a wager Mr. Kracker.”The door smashed open, Nu's goons started to pour in, guns pointing at me, “TINGZHI!!” The goons came to a halt. “What type of wager?”With a short sigh I responded, “A game of chance.” I pulled out a coin. “Heads I win, tails you loose.”He started to laugh, and he didn't stop for a long while. When he finally did he gave me a crazy look, “You very funny. I could use someone like you.”“If I agree, what happens to Miss El?”Shaking his head, he simply said, “She owe me, very, very, large amount of money. She no pay back.”I glared at the women on the ground, tears where all over the ground. “I have an idea.”♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣The next day I arrived at Anillos de Oro. Sat down and got ready for the show. Over in the corner sat the new owner, Mr. Kracker, was sitting at a table with Feliz, Miss El Toe took the stage, and I got my white christmas.After the show I went outside and smiled, looked like it was going to be another silent nigh... “Mr. Kringle, Mr. Kringle! You promised me a job!!” Or not.

A smile hides many things. For me, it is a dream. One, I dare not share, for fear it will vanish into the air. So behind my mask I'll scream, so others think it is happiness I sing. ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ You must climb up the mountain high, trying to outrun the approaching tide. You arrive with a grin, turn and stop, you are all alone at the top. People you know and love drown in a sea of ire, milky eyes full of lost hope and extinguished fire.

A man walks the empty halls, out of breath. 'It has been a long time. A lot has happened, too much to believe, but it is all true. Now where to start...the begining, no....the voice! That is where I shall start.' Slowly the man's figure begins to fade. 'Unfortunately, it looks like I don't have much time.' I was trapped in my room, I could hear sceaming and the sound of doors slamming, but it was faint. As if worlds where seperating us, but then came a voice. A sweet voice, one the lonely poet dreams about. I turned to face it, not knowing then what I know now, the secrect of the mansion, but I get ahead of myself. Back to the voice, it came from a full body sized mirror. I could see myself, but as the voice spoke more my figure vanished and a women stood in its place. And like any respectable man I checked her out, starting with the feet and going up. She was bare foot and wore a black lace gown. Most of her face was covered by he straight, crimson hair, all I could see was her smile. Her smile...I remember it so well, even now, it captivates me. It was sly and playful, full of hidden beauty, but closed by lonelyness. "Come closer stanger." Like a moth to a flame, I did not resist, but the results were horribly the same..... The figure lept out of the mirror and I could feel her cold hands grasp my body in an embrace one would give only to their love. "You shall give me form, and I will take this land as my own." My eyes filled with horror, then I felt a sharp pain in my neck. Darkness clouded my vision, and as she released me I could hear her mainical laughter, and see her grin. Then the darkness consumed me. I woke in the graveyard outside, a note pinned to my chest. It read.... Dear Mr. Crow, I hope it is not to late. For the evil in the house now wakes. And you, like the others before, must stop the evil once more. The ever burning candle,and an old glass bell, is what you shall need to send her back to hell. Do this before the next day, or you shall not be saved!

Count me in, but one problem. I HAVE TO MANY IDEAS!!!!!! I just can't keep my mind on one. Also work has ben torturing me with the same music for over three months. It won't let me think, arrrgh!! But count me in!

It seems to rain here every day, I murmured to myself, as the storm outside raged. I heard the sound of my office door open, and the sweet voice of a young lady say, ”Ar...are you James Crow.” I sighed and spun on my heels, “Yes mam I am the one and only James Crow. How may I help you?” As the lighting flashed I saw the lady, she was stunning. Little shorter than me, wearing a bright green dress that was too big for her. I would guess her age to be around, twenty-one, the same as me. She had long straight white hair, and stunning gray eyes. “My name is Jessy Robin, and all the other weathermen said that you were the one that would take my case.” I raised a eyebrow as I gave her another good look. She had been crying, more I would say than the rain outside. “Why are you looking at me so strangely, Mr. Crow.” “Trying to find your angle Ms. Robin.” I could see a look of horror and confusion in her eyes. I gave a deep sigh, this was going to be a long night with some long stories. I went to my old leather chair and sat down. “Ms. Robin, me and the other weathermen don't get along. I am new on their turf, and I doubt they would send a case my way. So what do you want?” She looked nervous as she lowered her head and simply said, “I want to go up the Tower.” I gave a cough of surprise, out of all the things I could hear, that was something I thought I would never hear! “Do you even know what those things are?” “They are the gateway to heaven.” Her eyes started to stare off into space and a smile started to creep onto her lips. “They are above the storm, where the sun is.” I shook my head and said, “No!” Her eyes snapped back to reality and her smile vanished, she looked nice when she smiled. “The Towers lead to the machines making the storms, the only thing keeping us alive from the radiation of the sun. Also no one has been up there in over fifty years, that is when maintenance stopped and it was deemed to dangerous. They locked it up and created the weathermen organization to keep moral and hope up that the sun would shine again.” Slowly I heard the sound of sniffling and saw that she was crying. “But..but I have this.” What she produced from a pocket gave me the shivers. It was only an inch long quartz stone, with what look like gold lettering saying 'dog a ton era uoy rebmemer'. “Do you know what that is?” As I spoke I muttered those lines and prayed she did not know. “The key to the tower.” I took a step back. “Where did you find such a thing.” I could not help it, my voice was steeped in terror. “My dad, he was the last one up the Tower. He said that when I was old enough that I should go find him.” “But that was....” I started to say. “Fifty years ago.” She interrupted. I started to shake my head and take even more steps back. But I couldn't, my back hit the wall. Horror had covered my entire face by now. I looked out my window and saw Frank Seagull's office, and Seagull. His body was hanging from his window, a rope around his neck. I spun around as lighting struck. The gir...thing was just a few inches from me saying, “Please...HELP ME!!” ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ I woke to the boom of thunder. My heart was going so fast and sweat was pouring down my face. After a few deep breathes I could hear the sound of the rain outside. I took a sigh and then remembered, I jumped up to the window and saw Seagull working at his desk. Was it all a dream I muttered to myself. Shaking my head I turned around and let out a gasp of horror. On the floor was an inch long quartz stone with gold lettering saying 'dog a ton era uoy rebmemer'. And I knew I had to solve this case, with a solemn look I gazed out my window and saw the Tower in the distance. I am going to climb it, and figure everything out. As I was walking out the door I swear that I saw Robin out of the corner of my eye and heard her say, “I'll be waiting.” But when I turned to look there was no one there.

I'm done, no more poems, no more rhymes. Now I have, so much time. This challenge is horrible. Every theme I looked forward too, was destroyed by the time limit. But now that I am done, I can start on stories. Thank you all for reading this and thank you Mardrax for starting it. I will rewrite some of the poems I didn't like, but that is not here, nor now. So good night, and thank you all. Also on a side note, I wish all the luck I have, to everyone else that tries to do this challenge.

Last one, Theme 100: Relfection Ever have one of those weeks that you reflect on your past, just to see what lies in front of you. Nothing...nothing is what I see. An empty road, both behind and in front of me. Little flickers of light....dreams? No, nightmares are what they seem to be. Failed hopes, splatter on invisible walls. Tears floating in front of my face.... they seem out of place. I don't cry...I hardly dream a dream that always becomes a lie! Now I rest...no more. Time seems to be a test, pass and you may reach the other door. But beyond that door lies horror, traps, and more. Forgotten, never knowing the next turn. Even after reflecting all is black...no more son.

Theme 99: Solitude A Poet Sitting at a computer, alone in his room. A quite man types, all the things on his mind. Love, lost, regret, for all those things he has never done, and all those he wishes to forget. Wishing, hoping, dreaming, that one day will come. That two eyes will watch him, those two eyes of his love. Yet he realizes, deep in his soul. That the love he longs for will never come, if he is not willing to let go.

Theme 98: Ant Little black ant on the sidewalk. Do you know where you walk? Under the feet of giants, you march, after a hard day at work. Little black ant on the corner. Do you where you ponder? Under the scowl of giants, you wait, after a hard day at work. Little black ant on my finger. Do you realize that we are near? Yes, and I will always love, you dear, after a nice day at home.

Theme 97: Safety first Put on your helmet, when you ride your bike. Put in your mouth guard, before you start a fight. Put on your eye wear, before you use the power tools. But what do you put on, before you fall in love?