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Stephanie Rennolds

"Annie *" by Stephanie Rennolds

SciFi/Fantasy text 1 out of 5 by Stephanie Rennolds.      ←Previous - Next→
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This has nothing to do with Annie Harrington. I wrote this a while ago, and the name was perfect. This story is a prime example of how a person's fear can overcome their sanity... and the universal consequences. This is also a spin off of Ripple, including Chaos, Order and Sandman.

This story is dedicated to those who feel trapped in their own fear of everyday things and the monsters hiding in the dark recesses of their own minds... this is mine.

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←- Repeating Myself * | Blossoms of Fire * -→

“Hello, ashke.”


Annie shivered pleasantly. She liked when he called her that. He had said that it meant beloved in Gaelic, and that his mother had called him that before she had left his dad. Annie really liked the way he said it, too. His voice was always velvety and rich, like dark chocolate, even over the phone – like his eyes.


“Hey, what’s wrong?”


Whenever he called, she knew something was wrong. She just knew.


“You may want to get secure.”


Annie’s blood ran cold. She knew what that meant. She took her old, ratty bear from under her bed and began running her hand over its head. She could feel the tips of pins sticking out of its fur, and the soft scratching soothed her.


“I found someone – a man – near my door this morning.”


Annie’s hand pressed a little harder against the bear’s head. The gentle scratching had become muted pain across her palm.




The way he said her name made her close her eyes in terror. She gripped the phone tightly and held the bear’s body between her knees, still stroking its head.


“He was – dead, ashke. The man from your dreams.”


Annie’s hand convulsed and the pins dug painfully into her hand. Small pinpricks of blood fell from her hand to land on the bear’s head. The pain dulled her mind almost  enough to drag her back from the edge. Opening her eyes, she realized it wasn’t enough. She gripped the bear’s head, pins digging deep into her flesh before the muscles went limp.


Terror gripped her heart like an iron clamp as the phone fell from her lifeless fingertips. An icy chill brushed the back of her neck, the fine hairs standing up on her skin. The phone fell with a muffled thud to the bed, and Annie turned with growing fear towards her door. She never heard the deep chuckle that came from the phone before the line went dead.


Standing leaning against the doorframe was a man. A sneer twisted his face into a grotesque mask, a mad light in his dark eyes. Unkempt and unclean, the room suddenly smelled of death. Annie could see maggots and lice crawling through his tangled hair. Leeches bit viciously at his body, putrid blood trickling down his arms and staining his clothing.


Annie fought cold terror, the urge to throw up going unnoticed. She swallowed against the growing lump in her throat that threatened to suffocate her. The mans smile grew wider and blackened gums without teeth gaped like a cave. A small whimper escaped her lips and the man cackled with laughter. His laugh was sharp and cold, slicing through her skull and destroying the last faint threads of her sanity. A scream ripped itself from her throat, a scream that brought the walls of her life crashing down.


The scream cut short. Annie merely sat there with her mouth open in a silent shriek of terror, not even breathing. Her eyes began to glaze over, oxygen lack making her lose consciousness. Fear paralyzed her, her muscles refusing to function.


The man continued to laugh until Annie slumped over. He quieted and gazed at her lifeless form, confusion forming on his disgusting face as his purpose became null. Then he turned and walked from the apartment, disappearing slowly bit-by-bit. He became nothingness, nonexistent, as Annie’s consciousness winked out of existence.


The teddy bear’s sweet face began to turn in on itself, lying between Annie’s knees on the rumpled bedspread. The pins stuck out farther as the bear began to curl inward and disappear. Pretty soon, only a spiked ball remained, with two small red glass beads – the remains of the eyes – and one black – the nose – skewered securely on the pins.


Fear had destroyed her. The balance rocked unsteadily, and Order’s end of the scale lifted as Chaos’ lowered, heaving. Sandman gazed sadly into his time turner as one more grain of sand faded away, leaving the time once again unevenly balanced. Sighing regretfully, he turned away, and swept his cloak of sleep over the sleepless city.

←- Repeating Myself * | Blossoms of Fire * -→

23 May 2007:-) Dragonflies2
Oh, poor Annie. I'm glad it's not a tribute to Annie or something...that would be...well, it'd be an amazing gift actually. An amazing piece of literature, sent shivers down my spine. They're still there as well.

What is she so scared of? witness protection? where is she? what kind of teddy bear has pins in it?! Why is the man who calls her 'ashke' chuckling on the phone? I need more explanation! my curiosity is going to kill me!

That is one disgusting description...I like the simplicity of it. In other circumstances, I'd be askingf or more similies and metaphors...but I like the simplicity.

'The man[']s smile grew wider...' - your punctuation had been perfect, in my opinion, up until this point.

'...oxygen lack...' - this sounds odd. perhaps lack of oxygen is the better way of phrasing this? or maybe it's because I'm used to it, the familiarity, you know?

Is the Sandman the traditional Sandman? And why did that happento her teddy bear?

This story provokes more questions than it hasanswers for...wonderful. a thriller or whatever they're called...*grins* I've still got a cold ache in my back...[claps gleefully.] I'm so glad, that was the effect I hoped it would have. [blinks] Now that I think of it, I do owe Annie a comment prize...
25 May 2007:-) Bianca ´Bia´ Tangermann
Really impressive...extraordinarily intense, for one thing. Reading this, I could really feel how you poured your soul into every word of this piece, you had an excellent grip on the confined, unreal and claustrophobic atmosphere of the scene. I wasn't exactly sure WHAT you were aiming at here, story-wise, but the feeling of the scene caught me, and that's what important, I think. When you dare to let yourself fall into it, it mounts ever higher in your mind, till you feel bile on your tongue. Astounding imagery as well.
Very nice! Thank you! [does happy dance] I've had dreams before where it felt like this, so I compiled the feelings and made a sad attempt at describing them. For me, even if there is no real plot, as long as I feel the emotions, taste, smell, hear, just FEEL what is happening like I was there, it is good enough for me. Like real life experiences. They don't have to matter later; as long as they matter as they happen. Thank you so much for commenting!
29 May 2007:-) Heidi Hecht
This is a really well written and creepy story. There just one line that may need re-written: "oxygen lack making her lose consciousness." "Lack of oxygen" may sound better. And maybe it's because I didn't read your other stories yet, but I'm wondering who the man from her dreams was.

Anyway, good job here.Well, don't expect too much. ^_^ I haven't tied him in yet. Thank you!
6 Dec 2007:-) E Purington
I...am confused. [frowns] Very, very confused. Should I have read something else first? If ’tis a stand-alone piece it needs something...something more...hm. It was pretty, surely, the darkness along edge of vision...but...yeah. [confused]

:-) Stephanie Rennolds replies: "Haha, I thought I’d lost that ability to confuse. xD It <i>is</i> a stand alone, and yet it isn’t. It ties into Ripple. Somehow."
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'Annie *':
 • Created by: :-) Stephanie Rennolds
 • Copyright: ©Stephanie Rennolds. All rights reserved!

 • Keywords: Bear, Evil, Hobo, Scary, Teddy, Tramp
 • Categories: Ghosts, Ghouls, Aparitions, Vampires, Zombies, Undeads, Dark, Gothic, Afterlife
 • Views: 807

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Blossoms of Fire *
Repeating Myself *
The Seer's Garden*

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