Quill Read Count : 106

Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

I found this really cool old writing quill in my late grandmother's attic. Not too suprising as she was both an author and a collector of really cool old stuff. And me being the curious person I am always wondered what it would be like to write with a quill so I found some ink and an old looking peice of parchment that I also found up there and decided to write something.


And as usual curiousity killed the me.


I had originally planned to just write out my name at the top of the parchment but after dipping the quill in ink and setting it on the page I seemed to lose control of my hand. And instead of my name I wrote two words.


Free me.


Of course I freaked out. I mean what kind of freak show did I just wind up in? Did I just wander onto the set of a horror movie? Oh great, I'm probably that one character that stupidly blunders into a situation that's obviously a trap. So of course I did the usual idiotic horror mobie character thing and picked the quill back up and set it back down on the parchment. This time I unwillingly wrote down just one word.


Help.


"How the heck do I help a quill?" I asked out loud.


Then I could see my hand slowly dip the quill back into the ink and then start writing again.


I'm trapped. Free me my grandchild.


"Grandma?"


Yes.


"How do I free you?"


Burn my body to ashes or I will forever be trapped.


"But you're already in the ground, how am I supposed to burn your body?"


You do realise you can get me digged back up don't you? I would've thought your mother would have had the sense to teach you a little more sense. What happened to that expensive college degree she paid so much for you to get? Did you forget it all the second you got out?


"But..."


But nothing, it's boring trapped in a quill now get me the heck out!


Yeah she had that attitude for as long as I can remember so it was definitely her. Still freaked me out a lot though. Well I guess I have a body to dig up.


                                ...


Quite a few hours later I was standing in a dark foggy cemetery where my grandmother's coffin was being lifted out of the earth under the premise that it might not actually be her body but an imposter's. What? My grandmother didn't really have much of any distinguishing features, which she made up for in personality.


I had the quill in a pocket in the jacket I was wearing. I could feel it starting to take control of me again. I could feel my hand clasp around the quill and bring it out of the pocket and raise it out in front of me. Suddenly all the people around me fainted and myself and the coffin were levatated in mid air. And then we flew off away into the middle of nowhere. This time I could hear my grandmother's voice inside my head.


Well what are you waiting for kid, don't got any matches on you or something?


I spotted a small container full of gasoline and poured it onto the coffin. Then I took an old lighter that I had also found in my grandmother's collection, lit it, then threw it onto the coffin as well. Flames rose up and licked to sides of the coffin and I could hear the wood crackle as it burned, the flames now rising high.


It would've worked if someone hadn't spotted me. They ran over yelling something about crazy people burning coffins and put the fire out as some police came and handcuffed me. I'm now trapped just as my grandmother is except she is in a quill and I am in a rubber room in a straight jacket.


They say I'm insane, that I'm schizophrenic, that I'm a pyromaniac. I was just trying to free her. She still haunts my dreams.

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