A Collection of Short Stories

Delve into realms of horror and fantasy with these interesting short stories by our Year 1s!

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She spun the ancient candle holder slowly. Three unlit black wax candles — charcoal in colour, black wicks, silvery at the handle. It must have been a treasure of the medieval days. On the surface of the handle, intricately carved, portraits the life of a miserable man —

Suddenly, the silver outlines of the carvings came to life.

The figures started dancing; like grey shadows that flowed with vagueness, small whirlwinds that emerged out of the round structure of the handle…

She gasped. Before her eyes, the man fell onto the ground, praying, wailing. He was in hell. Strangely, she kept feeling that he was sitting in hell’s cage, weeping with remorse. Fear creeped into her spine. What is this candle holder? A gift from the devil? She twirled the candle holder to the other side.

The back of the handle gleamed silver, then immediately rose into figures like thin mists.

Like what happened before, the graphics on the handle animated eerily. This time, it pictured the same man’s hands bound with thick manacles, his wrists rubbed desperately against the shackles, and then the motion became faster, and faster, and faster… His wrists started to glow a hot red, burning down and down his arms — and then it reached his body, then the ground, then the bottom of the handle… The entire handle erupted into a flaming colour. Whether it was that she was hearing delusions, or that it was real, but far away, she painfully heard the crack of bones, the scream of utter fear —

At that moment, everything was over. The candle regained its silvery look, but a thin line of silvery-grey words crept across the edge of the handle engraved was smooth to the touch, but not to the soul: May all un-man happiness be made at the ghastliest of consequential cost; three candles, three wishes—each extinguished flame shall present you as you wish but with the most atrocious payment…

And she stared. Horrified. At this terrifying yet mysterious object found in her home, mouth forming words, but no voice. Another younger girl, looking over her shoulders, urged, “Just make a wish!” The girl shook her head.

“There’ll be terrible consequences…” She managed to rasp. Snorting, the younger girl yanked the candle holder from her sister’s hands. She lit the first candle.

“I wish for a thousand dollars, so Brother won’t have to work so hard to earn money for us!”

“No!” The elder girl leapt up and cried, snatching it back. Too late. The flame melted down the entire candle in a second, flickered feebly, dies off. Suddenly, someone knocks on the door. Three heavy knocks.

The younger girl jumps up, eyes of disbelief, rushing to open the door. Under gloomy rain, a grave look, solemnly a hooded man read from a paper, “Bryan Pritchard. Expired to a falling brick on construction site. As compensation—”

The elder girl, silent beside the door, began trembling.

“—We give you one thousand dollars.” The elder girl shrieked, fainted. In a grim manner, the man continued, “His body…was buried in the Graveyard nearby, yesterday.” Money was shoved into the paralyzed, ashen-faced younger girl. The man left. The little girl crumbled to her feet, unable to stand.

Time seemed to freeze forever under this roof before the elder and younger girl got to their senses, weak, pale, petrified. The younger girl staggered to the dropped candle holder.

“I wish my brother will be alive again!” She sobbed at the unearthly flames of the second candle.

Before the doorway, a thin figure with shredded rags and bloodied head and limbs, swaying in the rain and gust, stumbled into view. The bloody body swung towards them.

“No! I wish nothing happened at all!” The younger girl screeched. The living corpse disappeared.

The rainy street was eerily silent once more.

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Once upon a time, there was a world built completely on words. With one glance at an unfamiliar object, one would know everything about it – like its multitude of functions and rich history, possibly including the one time it was dropped on the floor and stepped on. All this was inscribed on it, and it would constantly change throughout its “life”. This was also a world without any notion of privacy, as these descriptions were also the building blocks of its citizens. Their experiences truly did shape them…literally.

In this world, there was an item more valuable than any other – a pen, the only one of its kind. It could overwrite anything, including the words that describe its own function. In other words, this peculiar object could do anything. Truly, a pen was mightier than a sword, but it itself was a kind of sword. A double-edged one, some called it, warning others of its apparent dangers. As the world’s leaders unanimously agreed, the pen was buried deep underground, in a place far too hot and dangerous for anyone to reach. No other object had been protected with so many layers of security, and for good reason – as the theft of any other item would be recorded, whereas the records of the pen could be immediately overwritten by the thief.

Yet not everyone could resist the force of temptation. Three people, who called themselves A, B and C respectively to conceal their identities, stood out from the rest. They met up regularly and conspired to steal this pen.

The first, codenamed A, was a talented inventor far ahead of his time. He was the brain behind many commonly used things like a unique pulley system to rescue people from deep crevasses, a compass, and even a heat-resistant suit. Of course, a mind of his caliber did not take long to understand the usefulness of his inventions for the expedition to steal the pen, and quickly formulated a plan. He weighed the risks: if their intentions were discovered before they managed to get a hold of the pen, they were done for. Otherwise, immeasurable fortune awaited them.

The second, codenamed B, was a wealthy businessman who had amassed a great fortune by selling creative products. At least, that was what he claimed, and at least, he would be able to fund the project. The massive costs of the expedition did not seem to outweigh its risks, but it was just a small spot in the boundless mountain of his wealth. Once again, this was just what he claimed, and the other two did not seem to be bothered by their suspicions of him.

The third did not seem to bring much to the table, and just appeared to be tagging along. The other two pitied his poor and destitute state, and as no one else had the courage, or perhaps foolishness required for the expedition, he was chosen as the only remaining candidate.

After making the necessary preparations, they left through a hole they had drilled with one of A’s powerful digging tools. It could produce a cleanly carved path through any piece of soil and rock, with one downside which was that it ignored potential threats. This meant that often, at the click of a button monsters would crawl out of the depths and charge at them. Alternatively, molten lava would gush straight towards them, and not even the latest heat-resistant vest could not withstand it. Using the drill unprepared was a recipe for disaster, yet C seemed to not understand that fact, and the other two had to constantly dissuade him from doing so without thinking.

Soon, they heard a loud rumbling sound in the distance: a telltale sign of a landslide. To be more precise, the sound was not the first indication, as the words that made up the rocks around them suddenly changed to display the prediction of landslide. Automatically, fear was written on their bodies, and seemed to replace everything else and overwhelm them.

In their state of panic, they did not notice a shadow gradually closing in and passing them.

When they finally snapped back to reality, all they could see was a faint figure in the distance. However, they could just vaguely make up the words that outlined his intentions, as the description of his intense desire for the pen filled his body. The mysterious figure turned around, as if he realised the three people had the same desire he did.

If being stared at could kill, the three would have instantly collapsed then. They looked up at him, and those few moments of confusion were enough for him to strike. He leapt forward and deftly removed every piece of equipment, every navigational tool, and every bundle of rope A had, leaving him empty-handed. Then, he disappeared without a trace. The rumbling grew louder, followed by a sequence of thuds, as the three also hurried away.

By some miracle the three still managed to locate the vault that contained the pen, and it was clear that the mysterious figure arrived not long before them. He was trying to pick the lock of the safe to no avail, which was understandable considering the value of the object kept within it. The three of them were helpless, and in desperation C dashed forward and grabbed on to the man’s wrist, twisting the tools out of his hand as they fell onto the ground. He picked it up and skillfully picked the lock the man had been struggling to unlock, as A and B watched on, impressed.

The door opened to reveal a pen that took up far too little of the vault it was encased in. It was an unimpressive looking pen, like any other writing implement that only worked on paper. Yet they all knew that it was not what it seemed and rushed to grab it. Their minds were fixated on one thing – to get the pen and leave with it. In that fight, the three outnumbered the mysterious figure and had the upper hand. However, there was one trick up the man’s sleeve. As in the chaos that ensued, and for the second time that day, the three did not realise that there were people coming for them.

It seemed that an entire special forces team had been sent to investigate the situation. Immediately they recognized two of the three people and the mysterious man. In particular one observant person immediately questioned B.

“Wait…were you that…medicine seller?” he asked, somewhat aggressively.

“Medicine seller?” B responded.

“You look quite similar to a wanted criminal from a few years ago,” he remarked, pretending to look apologetic. “Too similar, I would say.”

B was forced into a metaphorical corner as everyone stared at him with mixed emotions. A was regretful that he had not made that connection before recruiting him, now that he figured that B’s wealth was gained in dishonest ways.

“But now…I think it is time to address the elephant in the room. You attempted to steal the pen, and you will face consequences.”

C, who was in possession of the pen, understood that they could not escape. Thus, he tried to inconspicuously drop it into the lava behind him. Yet nothing could go unnoticed when so many people were watching.

There was an awkward silence, broken by the mysterious man’s announcement.

“I was the one who reported the theft,” he said. “I knew I could not get the pen once I encountered the three of you. I was doomed anyway, so I thought it would be good to stop the three of you from committing a crime.”

A, B and C glared at him as if saying “Why on earth did you do that?”, but deep down they regretted it. The pen was destroyed, and so were any hopes for them to escape. They were sentenced to immediate execution.

Perhaps the destruction of the pen prevented a future disaster, because as long as there is something this valuable that could be misused, it was bound to happen.

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The flames are raging now. Glass from the windows is shattering from the heat of the fire. The charred wood is creaking from the weight of the floors above. You know, its fires like this that make me love being a fireman, to see impending doom dancing across the room, throwing golden light on the ceiling,, it’s beautiful. Don’t you agree?

With each worthless human being I pull from this flaming tomb, I can see more and more camera flashes, screams and tears from my admirers. This love is amazing, intoxicating even. It feels incredible to be honored and revered like a hero. I can’t get enough of this. That’s why I keep going into the jaws of death to pull out this irrelevant people. People like you. What you, and others don’t know is that I already know where the flames will spread. I know where it is safe and where it is not. That is why I started the fire there…there… and over there.

Unfortunately, for you, I will not be pulling out from this beautiful gold and red paradise. You see, my fans and admirers tend to question how dangerous these fires are if no one dies within. That’s why I must leave you here, they must know how much jeopardy I put my life in each time I enter the flames. You understand, don’t you? Let me give you some handy advice: Breathe the smoke in. Breathe in, smell the ashes? That’s how you do it. A fast and easy way out, better than feeling the flames lick over your skin, hearing your screamed cries for help, knowing that no one will come. Remember, no one will come.

I’m back at home now. Lying in bed. The sheets twisted around me, strangling me. Sweat pouring off me because of the flames. Wait, there are no flames. I can see you and everyone I led to heaven. You’re reaching for me, flames sparking on your fingers, closer… closer… nearly on my face now. Your eyes are burning hell-pits. I’m being burned alive. I scream.

by Zizhuo

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A dark, starry, moonlight-ridden night. Another day has passed by. A boring, boring circumnavigation around the moon. Once again was a slow, annoying journey, from home to school. School was a chore in of itself. My teachers were as boring as watching paint dry. Luckily for me, school ended early today. The commute home was painful. A bus, then a train, then a bus, then a boat, then another bus.

A while later, I hopped on the train. Bzzzzzzzzz. The whiz of the wheels rubbing violently against the tracks filled the gap of grey monotony encompassing the ambience. Outside the window was pitch black, as if there was something telling me that “there is nothing to see”. It felt, weirdly… eerie. The occasional dash of wind whistled into my ears, uncomfortably loud.  Maybe it’s just me. I’ve always had this type of superstitious feelings around. But nothing ever came of it. The last time I screamed in bed, nothing happened. All the previous times, zero. Probably just some strong wind and dark skies, nothing uncommon for the state I’m in.

Taking a sigh of relief, I sat back in my seat, trying to get comfortable for the long ride home. Better to take a nap now than later, else I might miss my stop, I thought. However, however much I tried, nothing could get me to sleep, despite my clear fatigue. Counting sheep, shutting off my brain, a slight itch always prevented my rest, like it was warning me. Ah, I should probably stop this type of superstition, but after listening to all those folk stories, it’s been haunting me ever since! I thought in my head, but it felt slightly louder than usual. It’s okay, it’s okay, mom always will protect me, no matter where I am, I was thinking in my head. For some reason, it’s even louder now…

…
…

Suddenly, a goopy sound diffused through the surroundings as I glanced a peek at the passengers. The one 5 rows ahead, frozen in place, bloodshot eyes. Blood flowed out of his eyes like he was tortured to death. Strangely, no one batted an eye, fixated at one spot. One spot, one spot, he looked towards the crack in the wall. Ooze… black gloop slipped through the crack, a slight miasma flowing through the air. One by one, the people ahead of me… oh my god. I can’t describe how… ugh this is. The nice old man in front of me, Mr. Brown, the one that bought me snacks, drinks amore. He… he… was… covered in black ooze!

It seemed he was going to meet his demise but, he, he is MOVING! Like a zombie he crept, closer and closer to me. Creating noises like a music box, he growled his way towards seat 3A, mine. It’s, it’s okay… crawl down then you’ll be fine. AH! WHAT WAS THAT! Looking around, no one was near me, no one other than Mr. Brown. The voice seemed like it came out of nowhere! However, I had no time to think, no time to contemplate about the voice. No other options, I had. Window bolted shut, doors blackened, aisle soon to be the same. No choice, but to follow the sound. The scenery outside began to shine once more, but it was not light who brought the way, it was blood. The moon. The moon is blood. Bloodshot crimson, it swept into the carriage, dyeing it a distinctive red. Hurry… hurry… AH! Okay, okay! Falling into a panic, I followed as said, sweat dripping down like I was at a sauna.

My heart beat up and down, hands turning into Jell-O. I feared for my safety. What to do next, I thought, desperately trying to find solutions to get out. Maybe that voice was like a one-time video game clue. I waited and waited, to no avail. And I almost lost hope. All hope. There is no way out, John. It is the end. The final destiny. Your fate. What you deserve all this time.

RUN! RUN! RUN TO THE DOOR! RUN RIGHT NOW! THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE!

The sudden scream caught me off guard, shocking me. Slowly, I recovered, forcing myself up as my shaking legs became more wobbly. Sprint, sprint, sprint, I thought, Sprint for your life! The ooze touched the soles of my feet, swinging arms barely edging the wall of goo heading towards me. People’s bloodshot eyes turned towards me, as if they were cheering me on… or hoping for my demise. I thought about the times I lost. Lost my father, my friends, and now… possibly my life. But I want to change that!

The second I burst through the door, I found. Freedom! Freedom! Freedom alas, finally. The crimson moon glared as I ran towards safet- “JOHN! JOHN! WAKE UP!” The clear as day sound of my mother ruptured my eardrums, I shook my head, eyeing the surroundings. It seemed as though that was a dream. A dream or a hallucination, I don’t know. But I am glad to be back.

Back again…

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The last of the sunlight filtered through the window, lighting up the dark and gloomy room. Staring at the red and gold streaks that coloured the ochre sky, I rested my head on my hands and enjoyed the cool breeze. I closed my eyes, exhausted…

“How was your day?” a familiar, squeaky voice broke my train of thoughts.

He sat there, behind me, on the edge of my bed, smiling at me warmly. His onyx eyes gleamed like the stars in the night sky. His features curved into a gentle smile, and he waved at me, beckoning me to come. Bouncing up and down in his evident excitement, he opened his arms wide, as if ready for an embrace. His little snout wiggled as the frigid wind ruffled his brown fur. Chuckling, I walked over to him, sat down gently beside him, and adjusted his lopsided ribbon on the suit that I had chosen just for him. His soft, tiny paw brushed my arm, and I pulled him into a tight hug.

He was my best friend. Since young, my parents had gifted me with him. I can still vividly remember the first time I saw him. With a lopsided grin, he waved his tiny, furry brown paw at me at and greeted, “Greetings, my name is Mr Teddy. I am your birthday gift! I can’t wait to be friends with you!”

The moment I saw him, I had felt a strange connection to him. I could not part from him. Everything about him was fascinating. His squeaky voice never failed to comfort me. His fur was as smooth as velvet. His little nose was a little black triangle and twitched constantly.
He might seem like an ordinary teddy bear to others, but they were blind to his true self. He was not just a teddy bear—he was a sentient being. Whenever I was alone, he would talk to me, play with me, and bring me to places I had never seen before. When I was down, he would comfort me and do whatever was in his power just to make me smile. For some reason, when he talked to me in front of others, it would seem like no one heard him. It was as if only I could see him move and hear him talk. Occasionally, some adults would smile at him and wave, but that was rare.

Whenever I asked him about that, he would smile mischievously and whisper with twinkling eyes, “It’s a secret!”

Every day, I would spend time with him. We would embark on exciting adventures around the world and even go to magical places at night! For some reason, it would only happen at night. I had wondered about this strange fact before, yet I never questioned it. After all, I didn’t want to make him feel that I was ungrateful! I wanted our friendship to carry on. It was enjoyable and I treasured it greatly. It was my greatest treasure.

At night, we would lie down on my bed. My best friend would don his captain outfit and would steer the magic bed to places I had never seen before. Under the watchful eyes of the moon and the blue cloth covered with silver stars, we would fly over countless cities, capitals, and continents. We soared like an eagle over mountains, forests, and lakes. Occasionally, we would meet other children with their very own plush friend of their own! On that very bed, we saw the Seven Wonders, explored mysteries, and visited lands no man had ever stepped foot in. The bond between the two of us was unbreakable.

However, years passed, and I became busier. Every day, I was rushing. The amount of work I had increased. The time I had with Mr Teddy grew shorter and shorter to the extent that on some days, I did not even talk to him. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years. Soon, my memories of the time spent with my best friend started to fade. I started to forget about the existence of my teddy bear, which now spent its time in a closet. The toy was left untouched for years. Soon, I became unaware of the thing that was collecting dust, alone, abandoned, and friendless. I did not even spare it a glance. I simply spent my time working and going on with my life. My childhood was slowly forgotten. One day…

I stared at the calendar.

It was my birthday.

12 years had passed in a blink of an eye.

Yawning, I gazed wistfully at the old pictures of me playing around, so carefree and innocent. Rubbing my eyes blearily, I rolled out of bed lazily and started towards the door.

“Hi…” a small, sad voice whispered.

A sharp pang shot through my heart. That voice…it sounded so familiar. Long-forgotten memories flooded my mind as I whirled around. It was coming from the closet. I rushed towards it and flung open the door. I saw Mr Teddy sitting there, worn out and covered in dust. Threads were coming out of his body and his eyes were no longer as bright as before, though I could see that he was still the same deep down. He lifted his paw slowly, waving at me. My heart seemed to be breaking into pieces as I stared at Mr Teddy, whom I had dumped in an old, dank closet for years. Time seemed to stop as I walked slowly towards my childhood friend, who had accompanied me throughout my childhood. He had supported me, comforted me, and brought me to wondrous places. Mr Teddy was my best friend and had opened my eyes to the great and wide expanse out there. I stretched out my hand to grasp his furry, dusty paw but my hand simply…passed through his body. Gasping, I tried again but to no avail. Staring at Mr Teddy in horror, I was lost for words as he slowly was disappearing. His body was fading in and out of existence.

Gazing sadly at me, Mr Teddy explained quietly, “I can only stay with a child for 12 years before leaving. I just wanted to tell you goodbye and thank you for being my friend all this time…”

The world was crashing around me. Mr Teddy became increasingly transparent, and his edges were becoming fuzzier. Tears started to well up in my eyes as memories of the time spent with him flashed past my eyes.

“No… please stay,” I begged.

I should have spent more time with him. I didn’t want my best friend to leave me. Tears dripped down my face and fell onto the floor as I watched him start to fade away.

Mr Teddy smiled wistfully and said, “Don’t worry, you spent more time with me than most children usually do…You gave me one of the best experiences I have ever had. Thank you, for always being there for me…Thank you, for being the best friend I ever had. Thank you…for showing me the world through a child’s eyes…”

Sobbing and biting my lip in an ineffective attempt to hold back my tears, I tried to hold Mr Teddy for the last time, but my shaking hand simply passed through his body. Staring at me sorrowfully, Mr Teddy reached out a greying paw and tried to wipe away my salty tears. Soon, only the top part of his body was left as Mr Teddy gave me a small smile.

His eyes twinkling sadly, he whispered, “Goodbye…” as he faded away.

Rain suddenly started pouring down. The loud pattering of the raindrops on the windowpane drowned out the noise of the sobs that wracked my body. I longed for the return of my childhood friend…

Years later, I was visiting my nephew.

“Look! My parents gave me this teddy bear, I call him Mr Teddy!” he cried out excitedly, grinning at me proudly, showing all his pearly whites.

Hearing that, I froze. I slowly turned and looked at his teddy bear that he was clutching tightly in his small arms. The teddy bear was dressed in a captain’s outfit, with light brown fur and onyx eyes. A small smile graced its furry features and it winked. My mouth formed a wide ‘O’, and I was stunned speechless.

“Are you all right?” my nephew asked worriedly.

Snapping out of my train of thoughts, I gazed at him and chuckled.

“Take good care of Mr Teddy, okay?” I smiled, ruffling his hair.