Chapter 1

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Chapter 1:

    Once upon a time, there lived an old man whose only company was a whiny, screechy little baby. The old man was ready to kick the can. He thought, if that child had bigger lungs this stony castle would have fallen. The old man would sit in his long wooden table with the cradle beside him. When the baby hit a decibel that wasn’t human, the old man would give the cradle a swift kick. One kick quieted down the screaming baby. The cradle would rock for a while. Then after it stopped rocking that fat little sausage of a baby would start up again.

Then one day the old man couldn’t stand the screaming anymore and fell forward, dead as a doornail. Luckily an old kitchen maid heard the baby’s screams and broke into the castle. The dark stony walls made her footsteps echo through the empty palace. She swallowed a lump in her throat thoughts of Stoker began to creep through her mind. She lit a candle and began to walk through the castles long corridors. Then she heard it, an unearthly scream. The wail pierced her ears and caused her to fall over and recoil in fear. Then it stopped. The scream had left her horrified, but the abrupt stop piqued her curiosity. She crawled forward slowly. Her hands feeling the cold walls. The candle had blown out long ago. The smoke clung in the air and stung her eyes.

She turned a corner and a small sliver of light from a slit between two stones in the wall shone on a baby. She gasped and ran forward to him. The baby cooed as she tickled his chin. She rocked it in her arms. Where are his parents? She thought her maternal instincts kicking in.

“Hullo! Is anybody here? Hullo!” She yelled.

The baby giggled. She looked down at him. He couldn’t of just appeared in this empty place. No, there was someone here dead or alive and she was going to find them. She walked towards the head of the table the baby in her arms.She reached over the chair to grab a matchbox she could just make out in the dark. She set the baby on the table lit the match and jumped back in fear. Lying in the chair body slumped over and head lying in an open copy of Moby Dick was an old man dead as a doornail. She picked up the baby and ran out of the castle.

From then on that old maid took care of the baby, whom she named Herman, after the book that his father died in author. She lovingly raised him. One day when he was old enough she sat him down and told him the whole story. Then they both went up to the castle, and she showed him what was rightfully his. Soon after the old maid died and in his grief Herman locked himself into the castle forever.

Herman listen as his footsteps rang off of the cold stone floor. He grabbed his breakfast, which he had started the day before. Luckily the turkey he had taken down with a crossbow was still warm. He removed the meat from the spit and sliced it up. He left the turkey on the table and walked into the library. He found a large hard back on Versailles.   

“Who needs all those frills and finishes when one can be happy with the bare essentials,” Herman said propping his feet up and stuffing his mouth with turkey. The book was boring him as usual. He moaned and set aside his turkey for a quick nap before going out to hunt. He closed his eyes and slowly slipped into sleep.

A giant bell rang through the castle. He slowly got out of the chair mumbling to himself. He pushed with much might to open the giant door to his castle. A short, fat man stood in front of Herman. Herman’s tall lean appearance juxtaposed the little man.

“Sir, we have to take this castle from you. You’ve broken all the codes, and we need to do some major repairing before you can even think about living back here. Your pipes, your wells… even the structure!”

Herman wasn’t sure how to react. So he closed the door. The bells rang again. Herman grumbled again, and turned back around. Opening the door, he pointed towards the man’s car, and gave him a charade of him leaving. The man didn’t take him seriously. Right then more cars showed up, all health and safety workers. They blocked it off with security tape and ignored him… though he wasn’t doing much. He just accepted it, still grumbling under his breath. Apparently a certain thought hadn’t crossed his mind… where was he going to go?

“Hey! Can I at least have my car?”

“Sorry man! What stays in the garage, stays in the garage! Contamination, if you know what I mean!”

“There goes my bare essentials,” he muttered.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 17, 2013 ⏰

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