Fan Fiction ❯ RANDOM ONE-SHOTS MADE IN FIVE MINUTES!!! ❯ A Matter of Trust ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Sailor Moon LOVE IS DREAMINESS 
In this one, a greedy man will meet his fate. Whether or not he deserves it is up to you.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 04.22.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 934 | Visits: 484 | Status: Work In Progress
In this one, a greedy man will meet his fate. Whether or not he deserves it is up to you.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 04.22.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 934 | Visits: 484 | Status: Work In Progress
STUPID ONE-SHOTS MADE IN FIVE MINUTES!!! by Sailor Moon LOVE IS DREAMINESS
Installment 1: A Matter of Trust
Poor, penniless Harold Crowski sat at his dusty table. He and his wife lived in a tiny house on a busy road just outside of Philadelphia. He and his wife made their living as psychics, so their house was filled with crystal balls, tarot cards, dice, candles, and other things like that. However, this was reality,and not many people believed in real psychics. In fact, neither Harold nor Brenda had had a customer in years. Or ,at least, not until today.
When the doorbell rang, Harold first thought it had been a sure mistake; a fantasy of some sort. However, he opened the door all the same. There stood a beautiful, flawless, slender young woman. Her skin was as fair and white as the winter snow, and hair as dark as the night sky.
“Hello,” she spoke formally, “I am interested in your clairvoyance, would you give me a reading?”
Harold just stood there in shock. But, one thought had occurred to him. Here was a supernatural believer, a woman who actually believed in psychics! He thought greedily of all the money he would soon be making.
“Why, of course, miss.”Harold said in an oily voice. “Why don’t you come in?”
“Thank you.”
He led her the fair woman to a draped table with a crystal ball, tarot cards, and dice setting on it. He sat in the chair opposite her and began to set up the things.
“Before we begin”, the woman said in her misty, distant voice that expressed no emotion, “Promise me one thing.”
“Certainly, good lady.”
“If I pay for the reading that you give me, promise that you will give the money to the children’s hospital.”
“I-I will, good lady.” Harold said in his overly-polite voice.
“If you do not, the fires of hell will spring up and swallow you whole and alive.” The woman said, slight ferocity in her voice. Harold said nothing, but raised his eyebrows. He quickly forgot about her words, and read the crystal ball for her.
“Please take this,” the woman said at the end of the reading. “Donate it to the children’s hospital like you promised. I have complete trust in you.” She left the house.
“What a weird woman.” Harold muttered aloud. “Still, that’s one hundred bucks. I can buy a new gun that I need. The children can wait.” He added greedily, as he started to get in his car.
As he was driving, her words suddenly echoed in his mind. “If you do not, the fires of hell will spring up and swallow you whole and alive.” Humph! he thought. What did she know, anyway?
As he stepped out of the car, he glanced to his left, then did a double take. There, just for a flash, he thought he saw that woman he had read to. But, when he looked back there was nothing there. He shivered, heart pounding extremely fast, and walked into the store.
Harold, for reasons unknown even to himself, wanted to get out of the store as fast as possible. Everywhere he looked, he felt as though someone were watching him. He glanced hurridly to his left while the cashier rang up the bill, and he suddenly saw the woman there! The serious, straight look on her face had not changed, and yet, she seemed different...
Harold quickly exited the store with his bag and walked to his car, glancing nervously over his shoulder all the while for her, though he saw nothing. He pulled up to his house as fast as the speed limit would permit, and let himself into the house. Somehow, it seemed all too silent. He called for his wife.
“Brenda?” No response. She must not be home yet, he thought. The instant he turned around, his eyes met the figure of the strange woman who he thought to be everywhere.
“W-what are you doing in my house?!” Harold demanded, clearly frightened to death. Suddenly, snakelike whips of fire came through the stone floor and wrapped themselves around hime, and e crashed to the floor.
“I did warn you.” She said, sitting on top of the kitchen table, her emotionless face and voice ringing through the sounds of Harold struggling. “Those who take, but do not give do not de serve a life to live.”
“W-what about my wife?” Harold asked in utter terror.
“Brenda?” She asked in that merciless calm voice, as though this were a simple buisiness meeting. “She has given more than she has taken. She will be spared.”
“W-what are you?!” Harold cried in fright as the fire began to engulf the rest of his body.
“I am merely a messenger who reads the kind and punishes the greedy.” She responded calmly. “This is my mission. After all, I once suffered the same fate that you will.”
“Who are you?!” Harold cried as the fire began to burn away his body.
“My name?” She repeated. “Not one I have punished has ever asked me that before. Alright, I shall tell you before you die. It is Jigoku.”
“‘Jigoku?’ But, that’s Japanese for–!”
“Yes. It is Japanese for Hell. Die in peace.” She said mercilessly as Harold’s now lifeless body burned away.
------------------------------END--------------------------- ------
Installment 1: A Matter of Trust
Poor, penniless Harold Crowski sat at his dusty table. He and his wife lived in a tiny house on a busy road just outside of Philadelphia. He and his wife made their living as psychics, so their house was filled with crystal balls, tarot cards, dice, candles, and other things like that. However, this was reality,and not many people believed in real psychics. In fact, neither Harold nor Brenda had had a customer in years. Or ,at least, not until today.
When the doorbell rang, Harold first thought it had been a sure mistake; a fantasy of some sort. However, he opened the door all the same. There stood a beautiful, flawless, slender young woman. Her skin was as fair and white as the winter snow, and hair as dark as the night sky.
“Hello,” she spoke formally, “I am interested in your clairvoyance, would you give me a reading?”
Harold just stood there in shock. But, one thought had occurred to him. Here was a supernatural believer, a woman who actually believed in psychics! He thought greedily of all the money he would soon be making.
“Why, of course, miss.”Harold said in an oily voice. “Why don’t you come in?”
“Thank you.”
He led her the fair woman to a draped table with a crystal ball, tarot cards, and dice setting on it. He sat in the chair opposite her and began to set up the things.
“Before we begin”, the woman said in her misty, distant voice that expressed no emotion, “Promise me one thing.”
“Certainly, good lady.”
“If I pay for the reading that you give me, promise that you will give the money to the children’s hospital.”
“I-I will, good lady.” Harold said in his overly-polite voice.
“If you do not, the fires of hell will spring up and swallow you whole and alive.” The woman said, slight ferocity in her voice. Harold said nothing, but raised his eyebrows. He quickly forgot about her words, and read the crystal ball for her.
“Please take this,” the woman said at the end of the reading. “Donate it to the children’s hospital like you promised. I have complete trust in you.” She left the house.
“What a weird woman.” Harold muttered aloud. “Still, that’s one hundred bucks. I can buy a new gun that I need. The children can wait.” He added greedily, as he started to get in his car.
As he was driving, her words suddenly echoed in his mind. “If you do not, the fires of hell will spring up and swallow you whole and alive.” Humph! he thought. What did she know, anyway?
As he stepped out of the car, he glanced to his left, then did a double take. There, just for a flash, he thought he saw that woman he had read to. But, when he looked back there was nothing there. He shivered, heart pounding extremely fast, and walked into the store.
Harold, for reasons unknown even to himself, wanted to get out of the store as fast as possible. Everywhere he looked, he felt as though someone were watching him. He glanced hurridly to his left while the cashier rang up the bill, and he suddenly saw the woman there! The serious, straight look on her face had not changed, and yet, she seemed different...
Harold quickly exited the store with his bag and walked to his car, glancing nervously over his shoulder all the while for her, though he saw nothing. He pulled up to his house as fast as the speed limit would permit, and let himself into the house. Somehow, it seemed all too silent. He called for his wife.
“Brenda?” No response. She must not be home yet, he thought. The instant he turned around, his eyes met the figure of the strange woman who he thought to be everywhere.
“W-what are you doing in my house?!” Harold demanded, clearly frightened to death. Suddenly, snakelike whips of fire came through the stone floor and wrapped themselves around hime, and e crashed to the floor.
“I did warn you.” She said, sitting on top of the kitchen table, her emotionless face and voice ringing through the sounds of Harold struggling. “Those who take, but do not give do not de serve a life to live.”
“W-what about my wife?” Harold asked in utter terror.
“Brenda?” She asked in that merciless calm voice, as though this were a simple buisiness meeting. “She has given more than she has taken. She will be spared.”
“W-what are you?!” Harold cried in fright as the fire began to engulf the rest of his body.
“I am merely a messenger who reads the kind and punishes the greedy.” She responded calmly. “This is my mission. After all, I once suffered the same fate that you will.”
“Who are you?!” Harold cried as the fire began to burn away his body.
“My name?” She repeated. “Not one I have punished has ever asked me that before. Alright, I shall tell you before you die. It is Jigoku.”
“‘Jigoku?’ But, that’s Japanese for–!”
“Yes. It is Japanese for Hell. Die in peace.” She said mercilessly as Harold’s now lifeless body burned away.
------------------------------END--------------------------- ------