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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1992967-The-Name-Of-This-Book-Is-A-Superstition
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Children's · #1992967
Max is discovered as the keeper of a superstitious treasure that is nothing but evil.
Chapter Zero

Somewhere in another time, a place inherited the tale of a superstition. This tale of superstition was legendary, foretelling the story of the most revered creation on earth. It held the fate of the world within its sinister grasp. The name given to this fabled element was The Treasure Of Superstition.

This mysterious element was nothing similar to treasure. It no way resembled gold, silver, fancy goblets or other metals. It was in its own category of what you may call treasure. It was the paragon of all things on earth. The most precious, alluring, brainwashing item created upon the face of the earth and yet it was nothing but evil....

Someplace deep in the past, deep within the darkness, the rain fell softly outside and lightning occasionally lit the sky around the grounds of the castle, winds whipping and swaying like a hungry beast upon its prey.

The shadowed figure snuck into the entrance of the fortress, for he had something to do. It was ominous and very illogical. It was what he held in his possession, something his king had been looking for his whole life.

The figure blended even more within the inky darkness and crept through the hallways. The short soldier, frightened to the bone of the dark and nervous of his first night of serving the king, finally noticed the echo of footsteps in the hallway.

The noise seemed to be within the unrelenting winds and pounding rain outside but after a while, the uproar found itself apart from all other noises. Very soft and unmistakable, yet he couldn't tell where the source of that horrid sound was coming from. As if the air was somehow carrying it everywhere at once.

The soldier yanked his dagger from his scabbard, his heart beating in fear of the noise. He secretly cursed himself for not bringing his lamp. He had heard about the menacing superstitions among his comrades of forgotten apparitions lurking through the hallways of the castle many times, and yet he hadn't listened.

The ghostly spectral drew out an object from its dark robe and began walking towards the man. The man clung to the walls, drawing himself even more in the shadows as the steady noise of feet grew even louder towards his direction.

His heart beating so fast, the man was too scared to even breathe, and not even paying attention to the dagger hanging loosely in his trembling hands, the man dropped the dagger on the stone floor…

With a loud thud, the dagger banged against the stone floors and echoed through the hallways. The man shook his head vigorously, cursing himself for being such so superstitious, but the moment perished when he noticed the constant noise of footsteps end.

Now he knew someone or something was lurking through the hallways.

The phantom-looking figure eased within the shadows of the stone walls and kept creeping past the panic-stricken man.

On the other side of the hallway, the man squinted hard as he saw someone or something moving in the darkness. Something very dark, the darkest blackness he had ever seen. It was like a wave of murkiness moving along the walls.

"What in the world is that, he murmured to himself," his body stiffening immensely.

"Don’t be an ignorant fool," he told himself. Mustering up all the courage locked within his scared, stiff body, the man picked up the dagger very slowly, making sure that the trespasser was not on to him, and the man began walking towards the dark shadow looming against the walls, his dagger up ready to slay whatever forbidden creature lay hidden within the darkness.

The mysterious character began aiming the hidden object towards the soldier as he crept closer, like a predator secretly upon its prey. As he got closer, the soldier's courage swelled back into nothing but complete pure fear. He continued squinting into the darkness, awaiting whatever creature lay hidden within the shadows.

A bright light illuminated the stone walls suddenly, and the soldier hovered his hands over his eyes, the light nothing but blinding. The spectral, still hidden in the remaining darkness, leaned in towards the soldier’s ears.

The soldier shriveled in fear as the spectral’s words entered his ears icily, like a stray cold breeze going through a spine. The soldier's eyes widened, adjusting to the sudden brightness and caught the glimpse of the figure that had hid beneath the shadows. His eyes widened even more in sudden recognition.

“Tell that petty king of yours that I have recovered The Wand of Sorcery…”
© Copyright 2014 Anthony Sanders (aprettyboy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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