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Short Story- Not Another Paranormal Romance: By Adinelle Ggreeo

'The new boy was a demon straight from hell, who came to corrupt their school and she was the only one who was trying to do something about it.'

Fourteen-year-old Gabriella Pierre seems to be the only person at her school not completely enamoured by the supernaturally beautiful Cyrus Hinds, the new boy in their year. A simple touch of hands reveals to her an insidious visage and dark designs now intent on destroying her life.

'What better way for a demon to mess with a teenage girl than to 'fall in love' with her?'

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Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

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The new boy was a demon. She knew that it was hard to believe. Her friends didn't even believe her when she tried to tell them! They laughed, thinking she had a crush on the thing and was trying to deny it! The new boy–thing–creature, calling itself Cyrus was a demon straight from hell, who came to corrupt their school and she was the only one who was trying to do something about it.

He came to their school in the middle of the second term, an awkward time to transfer schools, especially secondary schools. He was placed in class 3-B as they had space from a couple of students who transferred out the years before. Gabriella was in class 3-D, so she didn't see or hear much about the new boy until lunchtime. She sat with her friends, Amaya, Kadiah and Marissa at their usual corner table in the cafeteria. Huffing softly, she listened as they gushed about him.

Amaya, being from 3-B, had all the gossip. Their usually quieter friend had a lot to say. With stars in her eyes and awe in her voice, she told them about the tall, handsome boy with deep brown skin and eyes like Brown Obsidian gems. His voice was warm and sweet like hot chocolate, his smile was as bright as diamonds and–

“He's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen!" she signed dreamily. Her wild curly hair flew around her, seeming to be taking part in her excitement and her glasses nearly fell off her face as she gestured wildly.

Gabriella huffed again.

"That's not saying much, Maya. Boys aren't that cute in the first place."

Marissa sighed in exasperation.

"Oh come on, girl. I know you have high standards when it comes to boys, but this one sounds like he would definitely surpass them!" She flicked her long plait over her shoulder, grinning mischievously.

Not this again. Gabriella rolled her eyes.

"I have zero standards for them because I expect them to always be up to no good!"

Her friends laughed good-naturedly.

"Whatever you say, Gabs," Kadiah chuckled. Her fingers were twirling one of her twists as she turned back to Amaya, who took that as her cue to continue singing praises about the new boy.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the entrance. A small crowd was starting to form and voices were rising.

'Ahh,' she thought. 'The man of the hour is here.'

Sure enough, as the crowd parted like the red sea, the new boy came into view.

Oh wow. Gabriella felt her heart flutter a little in her chest. She frowned. It seemed Amaya wasn't exaggerating. He actually was that beautiful.

She thought he looked like one of those royal elves from the Young Adult novels the girls liked to swoon over. He was tall and trim with wide shoulders and a slim waist. The boring white shirt and purple trousers that was the boys’ uniform looked like designer wear on him. He had smooth skin with a few moles here and there and warm dark eyes. He smiled at the people around him, dazzling them with his pearly white teeth. His afro hair was cut into a fade with pentagram star designs on each side of his head. She was surprised he got away with that.

Everyone seemed to be eager to meet the new boy, practically throwing themselves in his face for him to notice them. Gabriella looked on in confusion, her face screwing up at the behaviour. What kind of circus show was this? Are they not embarrassed? These kinds of things only happened in the movies! She couldn't believe people were behaving this way. And over a boy! Sure, a very handsome boy, but still!

"Ahhhhh!" Amaya whisper-squealed. "He's coming this way!" She had latched on to Gabriella's arm squeezing and shaking her. Slapping her friend's hands away, she watched as the new boy made his way over to their table. Already a bit annoyed and not really in the mood to be nice, she spoke before the boy could open his mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

Her friends were aghast, trying to apologize to him and scold her at the same time. He waved them off, laughing softly. Her friends melted. Ugh.

"Amaya right?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer from the girl, he pulled out a sparkly pink pen from his trousers pocket, holding it out to her.

"Thanks for letting me borrow it."

Amaya took the pen reverently. Marissa and Kadiah gaze upon it as if it held the secrets to the universe. Amaya, still too shocked to say anything just nodded, still giggling.

Not missing a beat, the new boy carried on the one-sided conversation. "Are these your friends?"

That shook her back into existence. Amaya jerked, almost falling out of her chair.

"Yeah-Yes!" she almost yelled. "Th-these are my friends Marissa, Kadiah and Gabriella, who's normally really nice." She gave Gabriella an annoyed yet pleading look.

'Play nice and please don't embarrass us to death,' she seemed to say. "Everyone, this is Cyrus!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes but kept quiet. Cyrus smiled at the group and her friends visibly swooned. Honestly! She was starting to feel like she was in a teen drama!

"Nice to meet you all," he said. He held out his hand to shake. Kadiah, who was closest took it immediately, with both of hers.

"Yes, sooo nice to meet you!" she gushed.

Amaya and Marissa were more dignified, softly shaking his hand and giggling all the while. Gabriella stared at his hand for a few seconds. She looked up at him and scowled slightly when she saw that he was grinning down at her. He cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Fine then. She took his hand.

And that’s when things grew weird and terrifying.

Where their hands touched, smoke began to form and deep, nasty burns bloomed across his skin. The air filled with the stench of rotting flesh. Before she could pull back in horror, he did. He yanked his ruined hand back, cradling it to his chest. He hissed at her, his beautiful face contorting grotesquely. And not in the normal way your face goes ugly when you're angry. No, his face grew long and his mouth wide. His teeth went from perfect pearls to long, crooked, yellow daggers. His ears grew tall, long and pointed, like some kind of animal's and his eyes flashed bright and red, burning with a fire that could only be from hell.

Before she could scream, everything went back to normal.

Gabriella blinked, still frozen from the terror at what she saw. But Cyrus looked normal. Normal, pretty face and perfect smile. No pointy ears or red hellfire eyes. His hands were tucked into his pockets, but he wasn't behaving as if he had horrible third-degree burns. She slowly looked around at her friends, and at the other students in the cafeteria. No one was acting out of the ordinary. No one was acting as if Cyrus had just transformed into a monster. He wasn't acting as of he had just transformed into a monster.

Gabriella looked on as he made an excuse to leave, something about needing to head to the principal's office. Her friends cheerfully said their goodbyes. Amaya elbowed her not too gently.

"Fix your face," she hissed.

Gabriella felt the deep frown on her face. She smoothed out her expression but didn't bother to smile as her eyes met his. They were warm and brown and shining with interest. He didn't look upset but intrigued. He smiled at her, a slow, small smile that was meant to look shy.

"See you later, Gabriella?"

His eyes flashed red for just a millisecond. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to get up and scream at him, curse him out, maybe grab his face to see if it would burn just like his hand. But no. She would look crazy and get in trouble for attacking the new boy. So she smiled her fakest smile and said,

"See you later, Cyrus”.

Gabriella had some investigating to do.

Short Story- An 'Angel' Passing Through: By Adinelle Ggreeo

We have this saying from back in the day, for when a room full of people (usually a class full of chatty students) all of a sudden go completely quiet for a few seconds.

'An Angel just passed through!' someone would jokingly say, breaking the silence.

It's a soothing thought.

Claire, unfortunately, finds out the hard way that it's anything but an angel.

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You can also read my stories here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

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It was a regular day for the girls of class 3-A at St. Christopher Girls’ Secondary School. It was their English Language period with the well-liked teacher, Mrs Hayes. She was one of the more lenient teachers and let them get away with a little bit more. Like just then. It was fifteen minutes before the bell rang for lunch and instead of trying to cram more knowledge into their brains, she gave them a short worksheet to complete, telling them that she would be collecting them in their next class. The girls of 3-A took the wonderful opportunity given to do the one thing they like most: to talk. While Mrs Hayes took the little time left to start marking some papers, the students’ chatter filled the classroom with a low buzz.

Two girls sat at the back of the class. One with afro hair that she wore in two neat puffs at the top of her head with a navy blue headband as an accessory. The other wore her hair in long braids that she tied up into a ponytail with a blue ribbon. Their names were Claire Baptiste and Kadisha Benedicte. These best friends sat at the back of the class, to the left of the room and right in line with the teacher’s L-shaped desk. They were out of her sight behind two more desks of classmates. Perfect for uninterrupted conversation.

‘Soooo,’ Kadisha drawled, grinning at Claire. ‘I have a new boyfriend! It’s Chey, from the boys’ school. Remember him?’

Claire rolled her eyes, scoffing good-naturedly. She did remember him. She was glad to know her friend’s taste wasn’t totally trash.

‘Yeah,’ she said ‘But isn’t he the third one this month?’

Kadisha looked away, slightly embarrassed, tucking an escaped braid behind her ear.

‘Well, like he’s the fifth,’ she mumbled. ‘But, we went to the mall yesterday and he bought me ice cream!’

Giving her a look, Claire said, ‘We go to the mall and buy each other ice cream all the time. He has to come better than that.’

Kadisha sighed in exasperation.

‘You don’t understand, Claire! We really need to get you a boyfriend!’ ‘Ha! No thanks!’

Kadisha sucked her teeth.

‘Whatever! Anyway, after the ice cream we...,’

Claire nodded along to her friend’s tale while she absentmindedly doodled in the margins of her worksheet. Slightly hypnotised by the squiggles and swirls she was making on the paper, she didn’t realise that Kadisha had stopped talking. Coming back to full awareness but still looking at her worksheet, she realised that it wasn’t just Kadisha that stopped talking. The buzz of chatter in the classroom had ceased. She looked up and jerked in her seat at the sight of her friend’s face. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes round with excitement. Her hands were thrown back and some of her hair was caught between her fingers. Placing her hand over her racing heart, Claire laughed softly.

“Girl, you look so stupid!”

But Kadisha didn’t respond. Actually, she didn’t move at all. Not even a twitch of her lips or fingers. She was still, like a statue. The smile slowly slipped off Claire’s face.

“Kadisha?”

Her friend remained silent.

Feeling slightly unsettled, Claire looked around the classroom. She felt her stomach drop as she took in the stillness. Everyone was frozen, posed awkwardly in their seats, with their hair suspended in the air, pens and pencils frozen in mid-drop and sheets of paper paused in their fluttering from of the tables. Clair, pushed her chair back, wincing at the loud screech of the legs dragging against the terrazzo floor. Even though there seemed to be no one to interrupt, she slowly crept on her tiptoes towards the desk next to theirs.

The closest girl, Zara Crawford, had big round glasses and her frizzy was hair in four ponytails. Her eyes were screwed shut and her hands covered the big smile on her face. Claire poked her at first, then tried to shake her when she didn’t react at all. She tried the same with the next girl, Clara. She didn’t even twitch.

Claire, starting to feel disquieted, scampered around the class, poking, shaking, flicking and pulling hair, trying to get some kind of reaction. Not one person moved. She finally skidded to a stop in front of Mrs Hayes’s desk, catching her breath. Like everyone else, Mrs Hayes was frozen, bent over the papers she was marking. Dashing the papers off the desk and banging on the wood, Claire screamed in her teacher’s face.

“Wake up!”

Like everyone else, she remained as she was.

With dread overtaking her, she slowly backed away. Her attention was drawn to the doorway and while staring at the tree in the plot of grass past the corridor, she realised that she couldn’t hear the rustling of the leaves. Actually, she couldn’t hear anything at all. No birds chirping, no insects chittering, no sounds from the surrounding classrooms. Having a bad feeling, Claire ran out the door, barging into the classroom to the left of hers. Just like her classmates, everyone was still. She ran into the class next to theirs. Same thing. The class at the far end, the same and the form four class across from theirs. All the same.

Gasping and close to tears, she stumbled back to her classroom at a loss for what to do. The whole world it seemed like, was frozen and all the sound was gone. Except for her. Her footsteps and whimpering were uncomfortably loud in the eerie stillness. She reached the door of her classroom, pausing briefly to take in the frozen forms of her classmates, dreading that she had to sit in their stillness. Sniffling, she placed a hand on the doorframe and stepped over the threshold. She never made it past the door.

She had one foot past the threshold. As soon as her shoe touched the floor, Her whole body was locked in place and the world around her began to change. The light blue walls of the classroom, the whiteboard, the lockers and the floor all began to melt, the colours and textures slowly sloughing off and sliding away. In its wake was a ghastly, roiling mass of colours that she’s never seen and a pitch-black darkness. They moved in and out and in between each other, writhing like they were alive.

With their appearance, the sound came back. And what horrible sounds they were. A thick squelching and a ringing that alternated from a high, ear-piercing sound to a low ominous hum. It vibrated around her, torturing her ears, causing goose bumps to rise on her skin and sending her heart into a panic. The strange colours and the darkness seethed around her, seeming to close in on her. Claire wanted to scream, but her lips remained firmly closed. Her eyes, the only part of her that could freely move looked on as the colours and the darkness began to churn faster, converging in the corner of the classroom diagonal to the door. They twisted and turned, the squelching sounds increasing and the ringing lowering to that horrible, low drone. They began to bulge out as if something was pushing on them and horror filled Claire’s heart when she realised that something was trying to come through.

A long black thing pushed through first, dripping with the colours and the darkness. The spindly twigs at the end of it slowly curled into themselves. It was a hand and those twigs were long bony fingers. The rest of the thing came after. Claire could barely comprehend what she was seeing. As it oozed through the rapidly distorting colours and the darkness, It began to grow and grow and grow. There was no ceiling to hinder it. It had no discernible form. There was no head and no face. It kept shifting and twisting into tattered ribbons of black and they swirled around like a mini hurricane. Pale, glowing orbs were embedded in the parts that the ribbons revealed. They moved and rolled around, leaking a thick black substance that flew off to join the rest of its swirling form. They vaguely looked like eyes pouring dark tears. The limb it used to push through into the classroom had disappeared. There was no indication that it even existed. There were no other limbs to be seen. It was a mass of swirling darkness with orbs all over its form and it brought with it such a bone-chilling dread that Claire thought she was dying. The ringing had gone high again, the shrill sound increasing her fear.

It slowly, so slowly began to move away from the corner, making its way between the desks. It did not touch the girls. It didn’t pay them any attention at all. It left a trail of the dark substance in its wake that was absorbed into the colour and darkness that was the floor. Claire watched the thing as it made its way to the front of the class, pausing where the whiteboard was and pulling one of its long, spidery limbs from the confines of its form. It was so close and Claire was so afraid. Desperately, she began to pray.

As if sensing her pleas, the thing whipped around to face her. Its form contorted abnormally and all of its orbs turned to look at her. The high-pitched ringing abruptly stopped and Claire silently sobbed. They both stared at each other for a short while. Then suddenly the thing was right in front of her. It was crouched down, so the place where its face should have been was right in front of hers. There was one big orb embedded there. It was still as it observed her. With her heart trying to beat out of her chest, Claire could only watch as it brought its hand up to her face, one of its skinny fingers held up. It dripped with the strange black liquid. A soft whistling sound filled the air around them. It rose high and loud, assaulting her already hurting ears. Its orb began to glow white hot, so bright. One moment, she was looking into the face of what she thought was death, the next, she was blinded by the expanding glow and knew no more.

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Mrs Hayes softly laughed to herself at the three seconds of silence from the class.

‘An angel passed through,’ she thought, remembering the old saying the adults used to chuckle about when she was a young girl.

Immediately after, a scream pierced the air. It was coming from right outside the class. She shot up from her chair, almost slipping and sliding on some of the papers that were for some reason on the floor. Some of the students followed, their desks and chairs scrapping against the floor as they scrambled out of their seats.

She almost ran her over when she shot out the door.

There was Claire, curled up on the floor right outside the door, still screaming. Her arms were wrapped around her head and she was clawing at her hair, pulling the strands out of their puffs. She knelt by her, trying to gently pry her hands away from her face and head, but her hold was like a vice. Other teachers and students, disturbed by the screaming, had come out to check.

What happened? How did her student who sat at the back of the class end up outside the door? She didn’t see her pass by. And the screaming. It was filled with genuine fear and pain. She could barely hear the other teachers as they tried to talk to her.

Her other students all huddled by the door, some starting to cry and wail at the sight of their classmate. Claire’s seatmate and possibly her good friend had pushed herself to the front of the crowd, trying to reach out to her, but was held back by another teacher who was failing to console her. Her own screaming and crying added to the utter confusion of the situation. Thankfully, someone had gotten the school nurse who arrived with a wheelchair. As the nurse wheeled the still-screaming girl away, Mrs Hayes, with a racing heart and an unnerving feeling about what happened, shook herself and breathed, turning towards her distraught girls.

It looked like lunch would be a bit early that day.

Short Story- Shades of Violet: By Adinelle Ggreeo

I can see the good and the bad in people.

Red and blue are what I see. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple.

We all have the capacity for good and bad within us. Our shades of purple depend on whether we choose to listen more to the angel or to the demon on our shoulders.

But there are those that have no angel at all.

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You can also read my stories here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

I can see the good and the bad in people. I've had this ability since I was a young girl. It appears to me as an aura around the person, emanating from their heart space. Red and blue are what I see. red for bad, blue for good. Simple stuff. Human beings though are not that simple. Red and blue when mixed make purple. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple. We all have the capacity for good and bad Within us. Our shades of purple depend on whether we choose to listen more to the angel or to the demon on our shoulders. But there are those that have no angel at all.

One instance was in a church of all places. An acquaintance of mine invited me to a Sunday mass at her community’s church. She was very braggadocios with her invitation, telling me all about the beauty of the building and the status of her community. She was the kind of woman who cared too much about what she looked like and what others thought all the while judging others for the same thing. She was a little on the red side of purple. Just a little. I didn't think too much of it. She wasn't bad, just superficial. So I said yes.

When I walked into the church that Sunday, I was immediately on guard. There was a worrying amount of red-violet people walking around. They smiled their false smiles and spoke their false well wishes to each other. One of them came up to me, a woman. She was decked in red. Red dress, red lips, red fingernails and toenails, and an almost red aura. She looked me up and down as she walked over. It was slight and quick, but I saw her nose wrinkled and the corners of her lips turned down. I suppose she wasn't a fan of my hand-me-down cotton dress on my plain brown flats. Her wide smile snapped back into place and she greeted me with a high voice, speaking loudly enough for others to hear. She was apparently one of the ushers. I told her I was invited by an acquaintance and asked if I could be seated with her. Apparently not.

“Oh, newcomers sit at the back, sweetie,” she said, showing me to one of the pews in a dark corner of the church. I was the only one sitting there, which was strange for such a large church.

The building itself was quite grand. It was as beautiful as my acquaintance had said. It had tall ceilings with victorian-esque chandeliers and large and colourful stained glass windows depicting The Passion of Christ lined the walls. Statues of St. Mary, Jesus Christ, and various Angels and saints painted in gold and jewel tones stood tall near the altar. The altar itself looked more like a performance stage. I could see stage lights all around. the priest's chair looked more like a throne, tall, wide and covered in rich purple velvet and what looked like precious germs. Very pretty, but unnecessary. I sat there uncomfortably, taking in the church and watching the people, seeing very few of a blue hue.

My final straw was when the priest came in with all the altar servers and lectures. As we all stood for their entrance, I noticed how everyone was placed. All the people grew redder the closer to the altar they were. Then I saw the priest at the end of the procession. Decked out in his white robes, he glowed a deep, blood red, brighter than I'd ever seen and I was immediately filled with dread and horror. I didn't care how it looked, I got up and power-walked down the aisle. I ran when I heard someone call out. I refused to stay in the same space as someone so vile as to have the aura of blood. The acquaintance and I are no longer acquaintances.

Another instance happened when I was a teenager and thankfully, it was just in passing. My friends and I were at the mall, just hanging out. Those were our ‘window shopping’ days, when we had nothing but lint in our pockets, having spent all our allowances as soon as we got them. I'm a lot better at managing my money these days. We sat in the food court, nibbling on the sandwiches that we brought from home. we were people watching, well boy watching to be more accurate. Ooo-ing and Aah-ing over boys and men that were too old for us.

My friend, Sharon had pointed him out to us, her eyes wide with awe. The other girls were no better, openly staring at him with gaping mouths. It was obvious why. He was beautiful in an etheric way. He was tall and slim with dark brown skin that contrasted with his pure white afro hair that he wore in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore all white. White short-sleeved button-up shirt, white trousers, and white sneakers with not a speck of dirt on them. He was looking down at a little black book he held in one hand as he walked by. His other hand gently grazed his sharp jawline. That drew our attention to his strong nose, plump lips and the long, dark lashes that covered his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, he looks like an anime boy!” my friend, Ali whisper-squealed.

The others chimed in with their agreement. I was watching his back as he left our sight with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Because that was the first time I'd ever seen a person glowing so red. his aura was the colour of rubies and it beamed out of him in tentacle-like rays, like a red sun.

“That one's your pick huh, Cici?” Sharon teased, elbowing me out of my trance. I force the giggle I'm trying to ignore the roiling in my stomach. I prayed to never see that boy again.

I have seen and met people that were fully blue. All of them were babies and small children, pure souls untouched by the darkness of the world. They start to become tinged with red by the time they're about ten years old. Children can be cruel, after all. I have yet to meet a blue adult. They don't exist. By the time we’ve reached that age, we’ve seen, experienced and done too much to not be tinged with red. This does not mean that I have not met any good people. There are many good people walking this earth, contrary to popular belief. They come in different shades of violet and blue-violet. I'm glad to say that I see them daily among the red violets.

Today, though, I ran into someone. Well, it’s more like they ran into me. They came barreling into me out of nowhere from among the crowd. I'm a small woman, so I went flying, hitting the ground hard. Thankfully, I had nothing to spill. My tailbone wasn't too happy though.

“I am so sorry, miss!” said a male voice.

I looked up at the man. he was holding out a hand to me with an apologetic look on his face. He was still talking, probably still apologizing, but I could do nothing but stare. He was an average-looking man, his appearance a bit dishevelled. He had a mess of brown curls atop his head and a face dotted with small red pimples. He was in need of a shave, with a five o’clock shadow going across his face and down the underside of his chin. He had nice teeth though. They were straight and clean and so were his short nails. He wore a slightly oversized t-shirt and jeans and smelled faintly of fabric softener. A battered grey messenger bag hung off his shoulder.

His appearance was not what stalled me. It was his aura. his bright blue-like-the-sky aura.

In the midst of my shock, I didn't remember taking his hand and him pulling me up to stand. I came back to the present as he awkwardly patted me on the shoulder, still apologizing and then off he went, once again almost running through the crowd of people. I watched him go, his blue aura shining between the sea of purple. I looked on until I could no longer see him.

I gripped the strap of my shoulder bag tightly. I looked around at the violets and blue violets at the red violets and darker. I was worried. For the first time in my life, my sight failed me. A blue adult does not exist. I stand by that. I glanced back in the direction the man went.

So how do I explain that?