Mascot Massacre

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Me and a few of my friends decided to see who could write the best, funny horror story. This is my input.

Submitted: October 23, 2013

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Submitted: October 23, 2013

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I crunched on the icy grass and stared ahead with a face like ice and a body like ice and blood like ice etc, it was december and to put it nicely, cold as all kinds of balls. I tried to warm my body up as I walked so I picked my feet high off the ground, bringing my knees as high as they would go and stomped all the while flinging my arms around like a possessed windmill in the middle of this field heading off down the ridiculously dark trail through the woods.

It wasn’t even late. But winter is as winter does and you’re lucky to see the light of day for an hour or so.

 

I couldn’t help but notice how the trees had now started to look like the props in a horror movie and the only sound was the sound of my frantic stomping and rapid breathing as I trumped on down the path. Until of course there came the scream.

It was such a terrifying scream that one could say that it sounded like it was the sum of true fear, true pain, like stubbing your little toe then immediately standing on a plug. I stopped in my tracks, eyes wide. I could hear a faint shout in the distance and I came to my senses and resumed my stomping at a more frantic pace.

“THEY’RE GREAT!”

I quickened myself some more.

“THEY’RE GREAT!”

I started to stomp-jog.

“THEY’RE GREAT!”

I realised If I continued at this pace then I was doomed. I stomp-sprinted, glancing behind me I saw the most disturbing thing I have ever seen. It had bright orange fur with black stripes, it was covered in blood, around it’s neck it wore a red necktie, with ‘Tony’ written upon the side in black cursive. It’s fearsome yellow eyes were bloodshot and it’s face was fixed in a permanent toothless smile that as it gained on me, developed even more horrific as hundreds of broken glass like teeth protruded from his gums and stuck out of his blood stained muzzle.

“THEY’RE GREAT!”

 

I had passed through the forest now, stomping along the road, tailed by this creature who was gaining on me. I jumped over a wall and nearly ran face first into a bunch of carol singers. I didn’t look back, I didn’t need to, I heard the screams.

Their sacrifice was not in vain however. I got home I moved my sofa in front of the door and closed the curtains. I binned my box of frosties and lay on the carpet, sobbing. I could hear him roaming the streets.

“THEY’RE GREAT”


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