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    The Seven: Seven Short Stories to Ignite Your Imagination
    The Seven: Seven Short Stories to Ignite Your Imagination
    The Seven: Seven Short Stories to Ignite Your Imagination
    Ebook55 pages49 minutes

    The Seven: Seven Short Stories to Ignite Your Imagination

    By L. R. Pepper

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    About this ebook

    SEVEN SHORT STORIES TO FIRE THE IMAGINATION IN THIS WORLD AND BEYOND. "The human form…so precious, so pure, each form unique, even in the case of identical twins, the personality of each one shines through the eyes, it affects the way they carry themselves, the way they move and ultimately all of these things define each of us as an individual as much as pure looks do. " "Death. We can't hide from it, we can't defeat it, and there's no way of avoiding it…not in the end. Some people are afraid of dying in pain, some afraid of no afterlife, and some are afraid of an afterlife that drags on and on and on like an eternal torture. "
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherScriptum Publishing
    Release dateMar 12, 2015
    ISBN9783958492578
    The Seven: Seven Short Stories to Ignite Your Imagination

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      Book preview

      The Seven - L. R. Pepper

      LUCKIE-RAE PEPPER

      THE

      SEVEN

      Copyright

      2015 by L R Pepper

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher, nor b otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      ISBN 9783955770969

      Acknowledgements

      Firstly, of course, I’d like to thank my family. Their unconditional love and support has given me the confidence to pursue any dream and achieve any challenge.

      I’d also like to thank Mr Stevens, an old English teacher of mine. Wherever you are in the world, I hope this makes you proud. It seems that now you need not eat your hat after all.

      This book is dedicated not only to my family but all of my other loved ones who have to endure me on a daily basis. In particular Abbey J Murwald, who I hope one day, will star in a work of mine on the silver screen. And also to Paige Kenyon, may your heart stay as golden and pure as it is now, and may you find all of the happiness you deserve.

      Contents

      The Dawn

      The Unexpected

      The Artist

      The Cheat

      The Gift

      The Hunters

      The Dawn

      The moon beamed down, showering all beneath in its angelic rays, a hope of light amongst the black as coal sky. Clouds whispered their stories into the midnight breeze, and blanketed the moon above in a grey robe, bejewelled with stars from the highest of skies. Below, the trees danced and crept, their ever-winding branches reaching; like twisted crones fingers blackened by the shadows. Lurching were the trees as they clawed at the wind and air; trying to capture the stories whispered within them, to keep for themselves. Down their spiralled body’s, the shadows did encase with their cold grip of dark. Shaded by the above branches, the roots of such trees winded down and around, creating almost a trap; as if they planned on tripping and trapping any bewildered youths who may be lurking near. The colony of trees lay steadily beside a small area of worn-out gravel, enclosed by a few crumbling dry walls and creaking, rusted gates. Benches that were broken and paint-chipped were strewn around the arena-type set out of child’s play equipment.

      A feel of over-whelming loneliness hung in the air over the place, like a mirror above a mantle. Only… this mirror was cracked, with a frame forged from pure sorrow. A timeless chill was ever present, adding to the eerie atmosphere in that god forsaken place.

      Amid the pitiful scene lay a swing-set, swinging back and forth in a constant tune. Mesmerising, like a pendulum. Pushed by the cool breeze that settled over all there was around.

      Footsteps could be heard echoing in the near distance, the sound was slow and bounced off of every surface in sight. Twigs snapped and crow’s shrieked their songs of the night, yet, all that could be heard was to sound of someone slowly approaching…and then the sound was lost.

      All around there was a sneaky stench of rotting wood and damp leaves riding on that whispering breeze. The trees continued to wave and dance but slowly they (and all within those stone walls) were bathed in a strong, warm, angelic light. The trees were black silhouettes set against the arising sun. And, the rotting stench turned sweet and fresh, like the blooming spring flowers, sporting their morning dew beside the inviting and quaint little benches. All was well as the growing light captured every surface; all of it was bathed in a multi-tonal glow. It was as if the sky had caught fire and was being enveloped in the most beautiful flames. The sun had brought with it a feeling

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