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Year 8 Local Legends creative writing competition

Our Year 8 students have competed in an in house creative writing competition following their supernatural literature through time unit. Here is an example of some of their work along with the winning piece - Thorneycroft.


‘A story maker like myself must start with a gripping introduction. A dark tale. A scary tale. Working through people's fears and tweaking them like clockwork. However, I only make them worse.’ he said. With the twist of his black top hat and the tap of shoes, he emersed with listeners with his magical trance. “My first story is just that. Gripping. Intense. Horrific. My story is about a girl named Pauline Chance, born in the year 1942, who was, “unfortunately”, stuck in these twisted towers, in the year of 1958. Yes, this year.” He worked with speed and agility, transforming himself, into these amazing characters only he could create. Only he could end. Within seconds, he was Pauline Chance and with that he was ready to begin.

“27th May: 2:00pm – With the click of the lock the door was shut behind me, and I was trapped within the labyrinth. Yes, I was stuck in Tettenhall Towers. The idea of being stuck in Tettenhall Towers, the idea of being stuck in this terrible maze of never-ending problems, only becoming worse as I go deeper and deeper… My grey eyes dart across the room with the fear and anticipation to come, filling my stomach with a sea of vomit so sickening, it could drag me off my feet. But how could I make these assumptions when I’m only by the entrance? How can I find a way out when I’ve only embraced by my thoughts on what to come, instead of what I’m about to do. I must explore. To find a way. To be free.”

“27th May: 3:00pm – I try to stop my ginger hair lusciously flying behind, but my feet won’t. As my feet move with curiosity, a warm breeze went across my face. A disgusting breeze. A breeze so sickening that it would put me off food for the rest of the day and pulled back my green handkerchief. My green handkerchief engraved with my initials and the most important day of all: my birthday. September 15th. Mother said it was for something else. Not my birthday, however she did say the day was important. I don’t know when or what, but she said it was going to happen this year. It was the only thing to remind me of my home and family. The only thing to remind me of home. Moving. Moving. Moving. It was the only thing I did. The only thing I could hear was the rustling of my own feet. BOOM! I am at the end of the corridor, only surrounded by paintings and furniture. They look like they’ve been here for centuries, maybe thousands of years, left to be untouched by anybody. CREEK! The painting swings off its hinges and lands on the floor. Within the photo, I saw an old, wrinkly man with eyes bulging red, its blue eyes staring intently at me. The man was dressed in military uniform, blue in colour before, but black due to the dust and residue. Colonel Thorneycroft. That was his name. This place belonged to Colonel Thorneycroft.”

“27th May: 4:00pm – 4’oclock. That was when the rustling started and never ended. It grew louder and louder as I get closer and closer to it. What was it? I don’t know. Will I approach it? Will I move back? Those were answers I could only answer. Room 5. That was where it was. I open the door creek by creek until the door was left fully ajar. I didn’t even take five steps. I didn’t even take five steps when I approached the dolls at the play table. The doll table, once vibrant in colour, was now brown in colour. Some places were so dark, I thought it was mould. The only pure, clean thing was the dolls themselves. Their pure blue dresses. Their pink faces. Free of mould and dust… almost as if they have been planted there recently.”

“27th May: 4:30pm – Not far from the play table, was a bed freshly made. Smooth and comfortable. Soft. It reminded me of home, and cooking. It reminded me of the family I had, my friends. It reminded to me to pay attention and leave. If I could. The thoughts circled round and round me, almost overwhelming me, making my eyes come lower and lower with every breath I take. I decided to take a rest to be free of all the thoughts, when suddenly I heard shuffling. Not outside the room. Not by play table. Not by the bathroom next to me. But below me. Just as my fear began to relax, it grew. It grew and grew as the shuffling got louder and louder, almost sounding like a roar. With the roars, so came the shuffling. The bed rocked up and down, side to side, making my stomach churn. I screamed with fear and ran to the next room. No thinking. No hesitation. A decision I immediately regretted. I couldn’t take this anymore. Being stuck in this stupid tower was already enough now I have to worry about ghosts?! My breathing grew heavier and heavier as I got lower and lower to the floor. Tears streamed down my face in floods of water. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even realise I was having a panic attack until I heard a voic-. Wait, a voice! “Are you okay?” It spoke. “Are you okay?”. That was when I heard the giggles. The giggles of a small girl. I didn’t know where. I didn’t know why. Until I saw a shadow behind the bath curtain. I pulled it back... and found a small girl. Dressed in black with two long plaits... The girl looked cute and innocent. She was a little girl completely misplaced with no parents. Just like me. “Are you okay?” I asked. “How old are you?” The sweet girl replied that she was 6 years old. But somehow, I noticed that her voice had become deeper, demonic even, and her teeth became yellow. Yellow to red. A thick, dark red liquid erupted from her mouth, the same colour as her eyes. It was blood. I am taken aback, and I desperately hurry in fear out of the bathroom and out of the room. I scrambled upstairs towards the attic, sweat running down my forehead as the thuds of two large feet came up after me. I was so scared that I didn’t even pay attention to the room I just entered. I just locked the door behind me without a second thought. The large craters. The old cobwebs at the corner of the room. The wooden planks above me. I was in the attic. I had no time to plan, only to escape. The window was bolted with impenetrable iron bars, no way of escaping. I was about to give up. That was when I heard footsteps within the attic. A ghostly breeze tingled up my spine, and I shivered with every breath I took. I could hear a tall, dark figure emerge from behind me, sure to overpower me. As I turned around. I got the full image of the figure. Its bulging red eyes. Its blue eyes staring intently at me. It was Thorneycroft.”

“27th May: 6:30pm – Thorneycroft had the same demonic, and evil looking figure as the little girl. The same laugh. And the same intentions. As he leans closer and closer towards me, I try to run back to the door. But the giggles of the little girl were right behind it. I was trapped. As I inched towards the corner of the room, a tub of thick green liquid spills behind me. That and the lamp I had knocked over. That was when I noticed the smell, not the damp smell from downstairs, but a thick, intense smell. Smoke. Smoke clogged my lungs as I tried to inhale the last whisp of fresh air left. The smell had mixed with the sea of vomit that had built up in my stomach, and I felt like the vomit would finally come up in an infinite flood. The flames formed a circular shape, trapping me inside, like a prisoner stuck in a never-ending labyrinth. My screams, no matter how hard I tried, was inaudible to the outside world.”

And with the twist of his black top hat and the tap of his shoes he was back. “As Pauline fell to the floor, her vision became darker and darker. The last thing she saw as she was burnt alive was Thorneycroft and the little girl. Thorneycroft and the little girl were going to be the last thing she saw... When the fire was put out, her body nor her remains were left. Only her green handkerchief and her diary.”

“The funeral of Pauline Chance was held four months later in September. September 15th. The incident at Tettenhall Towers was a long-forgotten tale by many, except for her family, who remain to this day still recovering from the traumatic incident. Nobody came to pay their respects nor did the family. The grave was left desolate. Their to remain until the end of time. That was until two unexpected guests visited it. They were described as dark figures, almost demonic even: Yes, it was Thorneycroft and the little girl.”

The story maker zipped up his briefcase, shut up the story, and waved goodbye. And with the twist of his top hat, and the tap of his shoes, he was gone. 



I Never Liked Pigs


Running. Sprinting. Searching. My breath was slowly but surely disappearing, and I didn’t know why. Each time I couldn’t find it, each time I felt more and more trapped. I felt a lump in my throat. No, not this. This isn’t what I wanted, this isn’t what any of us wanted but now I was the only one inside, as if time had frozen for a moment and it kept freezing then unfreezing. All I could do was search for an exit. An exit that I knew wasn’t there. "Finn!" "Alex!" "Finn!!!" I call their names multiple times until my voice is hoarse but it’s no use. They can't hear me, can't see me. Like I'm in some other universe or dimension, but I do know one thing. I'm not hallucinating. All these people are here they just can't see me hear me and they appear in sudden flashes. They are all just momentarily frozen. “Nicole wasn’t usually like this. She didn’t usually go out and disappear. She doesn’t usually go off into...into…the unknown. If she did, she would’ve been with Finn and Alex and she began to cry, I don’t blame her though. For your daughter to randomly go missing and no word from her friends? I can’t imagine that. Shoulder-length brunette hair, freckles, green eyes, 5'6, 16 years old- Nicole Rose Wallis. He begins to speak as she weeps silently. She’s still a minor. 16 is still a minor! Sir I understand, I just need you and your wife to calm down a bit if she doesn’t return by tomorrow 6pm call me and I will come back. Okay, please find our daughter.” He says sighing.


The Pie Factory isn't exactly what I'd imagined, isn't exactly how I thought it would look. Actually, I don't know how I thought it would look but it wasn't like this. The beige wallpaper peeling off, the floor perfectly aligned with wooden planks. It was all too perfect. Too forcefully designed to look old, but why does it need to look old if it already was. The tables were almost matching the floor and the more I stared at the ceiling the more haunted I felt. Rows. Just rows and rows all perfectly aligned with the same distance between them. The lights so dim but somehow it was bright enough to still see everything. There were a few darker spots of light but still enough. Oh, and the cardboard cutout of that lady.  She was meant to make children feel more welcome, but she only ever made me more and more scared. I never got past the entrance, and I never understood why they had two doors, 2 entrances which would usually mean 2 exits and yet I could find neither. 


It was all normal.


Until it wasn't. Today was supposed to be a normal day hanging out with Finn and Alex. Why did we go inside the pie factory, why? I see them again. "Finn! Alex!" They can't hear me. Sit at the table with them, they'll see you then. They can help you then. They will communicate with you. But I was wrong, they didn't. MFA- multiple failed attempts. It's pointless. "Please talk to me, Finn, Alex?? They said you would reply. Th-th-they said so." Tears began to stream down my face one by one. "Finn, Alex." It's no use, my voice now at a whisper. "Where did you go?" I was about to bury my head in my hands, but just as I was about to take a seat I fell. I tripped over something. I look back and all I see is a pig. B-b-b-but why. All I can think of and all I can ask myself is why. Why would a pig be here? I turn around to get a better look and I see not just one, not just two, but sixteen pigs. Exactly thirteen. I stand up and take a seat. I'm still a bit puzzled but I ignore it. I tried to warn you, why didn't you run when you had the chance, when you saw the pigs. I warned you.


“How’s your pie Alex?” Finn asked trying to create conversation in the already loud environment. "Good, you?" Alex said, taking another bite "You good mate?" he looked concerned now. "Yeah, just Nicole has been gone for a while." "Finn, take a breath. I don't know where she is so let's just call her." They reach into their pockets and realise they don't have their phones. Their phones had just disappeared. Everything started to fade until it all became a blur, and everything went silent.


Nicole lay lifeless on the floor.

I wake up, panting out of breath from what, I don't know. The pigs have disappeared though which is good I think, they were starting to creep me out. I think back to when I was lying on the floor, just before I went unconscious, I saw the ceiling. I look up again. They are still there. Still staring down at me. I'm all alone here, talking to myself with those statues staring down at me. I blink once more and prepare myself. Pig heads. Thirteen pig heads exactly.


I never liked pigs...and they never liked me.

Perfectly Normal


We walked into the house as the door creaked open with years of unoiled hinges, rust flaking onto our heads. I shone my torch over the room trying to figure out why everyone stayed clear of this place. From the stories I'd read about the place, I was ready to hear a shout or some sort of noise from something that wasn't even there. Nothing. This place seemed completely normal, just old. There were cobwebs in every corner, no inch of space was free of dust. Some windows were cracked some weren't even there but there was nothing unnatural about the place.

We walked further on with a few creaks of the floorboards, a mouse that ran along the floor left Callan to squeal a little. He was always bad at these sorts of things, worse than me. When he found out this place was supposedly haunted by ghosts, he was already pale in the face and that was just the thought of being here. Now he was actually inside the building, he trembled lightly and jumped at the slightest noise. He was constantly looking around with panic in his eyes.

We walked up the stairs, treading lightly, we had no idea how old these stairs were or how safe they were. The further we walked up the stairs the colder the air got. I took a deep breath. No, this place was normal, it was just colder upstairs than it was downstairs. It was perfectly normal. But it just got colder and colder the further we walked; goosebumps soon ran up my arms even though I wore a jumper. What was it with this place?

It was normal, just like any other house on this earth. I hoped if I kept telling myself that, it would be true. Now I knew it wasn't though, we could hear screams coming from all around us, but we were the only ones in the house. I shone the torch all around us trying to see if there was something, nothing. Just the screams and shouts surrounding us, suffocating us. Where were they coming from? They were too loud now, any other noise made was drowned out by the deafening screams. Callan brought his hands to his ears, but he could still hear them. What was this?

I was regretting my decision to come in this place now. I thought that the stories weren't true, I was stupid. And why did I drag Callan along with me? I looked over at him to see if he was coping, he was staring behind me, face pale, trembling. What was scaring him so much? I turned to look; I shouldn't have turned. A figure lunged towards me, my torched dropped to the floor and decided I didn't want to remember the rest.

This was the biggest mistake I had ever made.


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