NekodaTheHedgehog86

On a dark plot, where a seemingly abandoned house is standing, three teens, strangely resembling Shaggy, Velma and Fred from "Scooby-Doo", are tagging the outerior walls. Well, the boy wearing the white hoodie is doing the tagging, while the glasses-wearing girl is expressing her worry. "Oh, I'm not sure of this... This place gives me the creeps..." "Relax. They'll demolish this dump soon..." Suddenly, as soon as he's finished spraying "THIS DUMP SUCKS lul", the wooden boards of the graffiti-stained wall rattle, break apart, fly around the teens in circles, before re-arranging back in place. Now the graffiti says "ILL THUMP U KIDS". A ghostly girl emerges through the wall and gives the teens a good scare. They flee, except the boy in the white hoodie. Apparently, he was sent to the underworld. The ghost girl giggles mischievously and retracts back inside the living-room of the mansion. She has something important to say to the other ghost children, who are watching TV. "Did

A.N.: last chapter guys. i started writing this fic 5 years ago and now that it's done i can finally gain closure & peace. what a wild ride. here's to the end, babes. _____________________ The summer sun was starting to go down. Hues of pink, gold, and blue streamed through fluffy lavender clouds. The shining circle of light was beginning to touch on the ocean horizon. The clear, azure water gently lapped on the sand, leaving only foam and seashells behind. You sat on a beach towel, knees up, with your arms wrapped around them. The glowing Golden Gate bridge, rocks the size of mountains, and crooning seagulls were in your direct line of sight. Still, your gaze was down between your arms, hiding the beautiful view of Marshall's Beach. This was one of the most secluded, spectacular beaches in San Francisco. With it photogenic sights, rugged terrain, soft white sand and beautiful birds, one would consider this place a California gem. However, the reason you were here was enough to

You let out a grumble in response to the light coming in your small window. You only drink when with friends and you couldn't guess when that last was, so you may have lost your limits a bit last night. Ugh. You could really go for a fry-up. Your morning is slow. You have some tea and a ham sandwich and chips from Speedy's to start the day. A shower to wash away the remaining knackered feelings and you're fresh and ready for the rest of the day. You pack up for a lunch in the park, where you like to spend most of your days off. You of course also bring along a book to read. It's getting late afternoon when a new person takes up beside you on the bench. A few people have occupied the space during your time here so you don't even spare a glance from your reading. They've been seated there some time before they decide to speak. "Good book?" The familiar voice of Sherlock snaps you from the pages. You look up to see him sitting back on the bench, eyes taking in the people walking