×

Penana
search
Loginarrow_drop_down
Registerarrow_drop_down
Please use Chrome or Firefox for better user experience!
detective

Stories Contests
New Updates Trending New Stories tune
New Updates Trending New Stories
Supernatural
Family
5 ISSUES
Memories Dreamnt

Prologue | Beginning of the End

It's a rainy afternoon. The garden flowers glisten, as raindrops decorate their closed petals. A young man, whom people seek out with the name, Ren; fixates his blue eyes on the gentle few sun rays— that peak their way through the clouds. Silence prevails his lonely room. Ren then exhales a burdened sigh. Shifting here and there in his bed trying to find comfort, he soon gives up, and begins to stare again, straight through the light that livens his eyes; making their shallow depths deep like the unknown waters.

————————————————IMPORTANT! + signs indicate the character thinking to themselves +* signs indicate action *————————————————

Ren—"+Maybe it's just because i'm older now. But i never felt more relieved than when it rains. Especially on days like these... where i find it difficult to cry+"

Ren gets up from his bed, grabbing his cane. He begins to walk slowly down the narrow hallways of a simply decorated townhouse. Aimlessly he walks, as his feet seem to carry him to the floors of a wet patio; he follows suit to the drenched surroundings, and steps into the pouring drops. Sighing, he lifts his head up towards the rain, closing his blue eyes. He speaks in a quiet, gentle voice.

Ren—"Mom.. my times up now huh? Is this how you felt? Did you feel as helpless as I do right now?"

Rens grandma, Chiko, passes by the patio. She stops as she sees Ren standing in the rain; running over as quickly as her tiny feet can scurry.

Chiko—"Ren darling! What're you doing out here? You'll catch a cold!"

Ren—"*he turns around looking at his grandma with his blue eyes* Grandma.. I'm going to miss you."

Chiko—"Ren..? What do you mean, no ones going anywhere."

Ren—"Dont make me say it aloud please... *he says with a solemn expression* It's already too hard for me. *smiles slightly*"

Chiko—"I'm sorry dear... I'm... *she chokes up as tears begin to fall*"

Ren—"+Dont cry please... don't make me feel so..+"

Chiko staggers into a rickety chair set underneath the patio roof, Ren kneels before her with a sad smile, wiping away her tears. The twisting of a knob opens the door, welcoming Rens younger brother, Rin.

Rin—"I'm finally homee! I smell food, but why don't i see anyone? Helloo~? *he looks around then sees Ren, he walks over* There you are!.. Man it's pouring out here. Why're you two— *he pauses as he sees Chiko crying* ..W-whats wrong?"

Chiko—"I... I'll leave you two alone."

Ren—"Grandma.. don't—"

Chiko—"Shh... *kisses Rens cheek* Don't worry darling."

Chiko says with slight regret, leaving the two brothers alone.

Rin—"Ren... what's going on?"

Rins older brother just stands there smiling without reason, furrowing his brows slightly. Clenching his fist Rin raises his voice, staring at his brother with his black eyes.

Rin—"Could you stop smiling for a second and tell me why the heck grandma was crying!?"

Ren—"*he looks down* i'm sorry I.. *he looks back up at Rin* I just don't want your last image of me to be a gloomy face."

Rin—"Ren! *he shouts* Just stop. Just... for once could you stop pretending? I don't even know you anymore...because all you do is keep smiling, acting like nothings wrong! You don't tell me anything, what happened? You don't think i can handle it!? I'm tired of it Ren..."

Rin chokes up as he grits his teeth. Soon letting go of his grip, his body becomes weak as he dangles his head downward; letting his tears flow. And in a weary voice—

Rin—"I'm tired of you not letting me love you the same way you love me."

Ren drops his cane grabbing onto Rin quickly. The two of them embracing in the pressure of an ongoing pour of rain drops, and tears.

Ren—"Rin... I'm sorry, I was just trying... *holds back tears* ..to keep you happy."

Rin—"You think i was happy knowing that every time you smiled it wasn't real? Ren please... in these last moments, could you just let me make up for all that you've done for me? *he looks at Ren* D-Don't leave the same way mother did."

The two brothers get lost in each other's eyes. Each having a fearful expression; their brows furrowed inwards, quivering lips, with a hiccup from their crying. Rin looks at his older brother with his black eyes that are curtained with a veil of tears. Making Ren loses himself, bursting into a shivering sorrow, not even the amounts of rain can hide the flow of tears falling down his pale gray cheeks.

Ren—"Why do i have to go too Rin..? I don't... I really don't want to.. *he leans his head against Rins shoulder* It doesn't feel fair at all."

Rin—"*holds Ren* I know brother... but one day we'll be together again. Well that's what they say, but we'll believe it okay!? And till then, i'll always be talking to you, everyday. And i know you'll hear every word... you won't be alone okay?"

Ren speaks in whispering tones, seeming to be gasping with his every word said.

Ren—"I don't know if i can believe it Rin... everything that i was so sure of, just seems to feel so wrong now.."

Ren grips tighter onto his brother, trembling in his arms; as puts Rin puts his hands on Rend cheeks, trying to see his face. They look at each other once again.

Rin—"You can Ren, because i promise... I'll believe enough for the both of us, I promise Ren! BecauseI—"

Ren—"—Love you."

Ren falls. As he lets out his last breath before dying. Rin yells, and begins to laugh in disbelief— calling his brothers name over and over, before falling down to the floor. Embracing his brother in his arms. Chiko hears Rin's desperate cries, as she falls to the ground at the miserable sight.

Itsuki, Ren/Rins father, comes home from work. He sighs while taking off his scruffed shoes, placing down a suitcase. Walking around he hears the echoes of his family, beginning to think to himself... "no.. no—"

Rin—"D-dad.."

Itsuki—"No... it can't be.. Ren! *he falls to the ground crying*"

Suddenly a ghost appears with the appearance of a man. Unable to be seen by Itsuki and his family. The ghost speaks to himself in a bored tone.

Ghost—"About time... Goodness, so emotional! *sighs* It's times like these where I almost have a heart again. But I don't!"

The ghost reaches his hand into the heart of Ren, taking out a glowing seed; examining it, he seems amused. As he smiles from ear to ear, with menacing eyes.

Ghost—"What a beautiful heart, Mmm... such a shame~"

The Ghost disappears. Leaving the family alone on the patio, crying over the death of a son, grandson, and brother. The rain begins to slowly subside, and the flowers begin to open their petals; with gentle rays showing themselves through the opening of the fading to white clouds.

Benjiros JournalEntry #1—————————————————"Sometimes life shatters. And often times, we don't know why. The picture we were so familiar with, no longer makes sense. Making us go insane, cry, then try to rummage any reason to answer that taunting question... "Why?"

Most of the time we can't find an answer. Forcing us to live with a picture, that is almost impossible to accept. But of course time moves on, and so we somehow learn to function with our hearts missing pieces. Because time doesn't heal, time forgets. And it's either we forget along with it, or choose to suffer... suffer to find those missing pieces. Till our tears are shed... for something beautiful.

Please don't give up, my dear son.—————————————————End of Entry#1—Benjiros Journal

------------------------------------

Itsuki—"Ren...not you too... why couldn't I save you!?"

Rin—"*leans his head against Rens*"

Chiko—"Son please..."Itsuki's expression shifts from that of sadness, to one of a confused angry man. As he stands up— charging away into the house, dreading to look back.

Itsuki—"No..! +this is all wrong, it's... all wrong. Please someone help me... I don't know what to do anymore+"—————————————————End of EP#1Beginning of the end

Author— a.t.e

Written -- 3/8/2021

Hello! Its me a.t.e :))

I just wanted to give a lil'story on the discovery of Memories Dreamnt~

I remember having a strange dream where everything was at peace. There were two boys walking down along a pathway decorated with falling cherry blossoms; chatting gleefully. And like the usual dream everything suddenly transpired into some sort of picture wall of many different, what it seemed to be, memories of the two boys. For some reason these memories started disappearing one by one. Making one of the boys worry immensely as his friend was somehow going to die along with these memories. So his friend, decided to suffer the disappearance of the memories by sacrificing himself in their stead; inevitably dying for the sake of his friend surviving. The last picture I saw was the boy, now a ghost, looking at his friend who sits in the classroom at the desk they once shared. And smiling, with gloomy gray eyes.

This is where my dream had ended. Upon waking up I had a river of thoughts rushing through my mind! Thus starting the beginning of my writing journey :))

Memories Dreamnt was originally meant to be a comic, but sadly I'm not all that great at drawing yet so haah-- ;; It might be written a lil'odd in the beginning because of that. Dialogue may seem like a script-log, and such. But I'm trying my best to make it more of a book-style type of ware!

Anyways-- I hope whoever made it this far, enjoys my story and finds an intriguing world blooming inside their mind~

PG-13
4
419
2
<div style="text-align:center;font-weight:bold;">Writer</div>月月<div style="text-align:center;font-weight:bold;">Co-Writer</div>愛鯊客
Horror
Fantasy
Thriller
10 ISSUES
______ State Zoological Garden Visitor Instructions Handbook

Original Author : Unknown (Anonymous) [Written In Chinese]

Translator : Not the same anonymous

Original Link (Chinese)

Penana中文版

Google Doc. Version

Dear visitors , we are happy to welcome you to the BIGGEST zoo in the state . Here , we have almost every animal species in our park. It is our job to ensure the comfort of the animals , while also ensuring that every dear visitor will enjoy their journey with us . During your time in the park , for the safety of you and your families and friends , we kindly ask you to follow the rules we provided . Otherwise , please bear the sole consequences for your action.

Disclaimer : I do not own the writing , nor do I originally created the textThe one typing now only done the translation work (From Chinese to English)Due to some word are unable to translate directly with its original meaning (Language differences) , in order to maintain the flow of the text , some adaptations of wording are done , thus the sentence meaning may vary .

Refer to the original text if translation error do occur , thus please feel free to spot out the error for correction

Feel free to share the story with your friends or any one you knew have interest in such ... kind of horrors

Moreover , the text itself , was owned by the original anonymous but not the one doing the translation, therefore do not ask for anything about the CC with the translator, but the original writer themselves

PG
12
785
1
General
Short Story
1 ISSUE
CHARLIE WRIGHT DETECTIVE

The bullet hit the brickwork above my head. The twanging whine of the ricochet echoed down the alley. These goons meant business. I was up to my neck in it this time.

It started with a call from a local music retailer. “Mr Wright my name is Harold Greene, I am Manager of ‘Music Land’ in Burbank St. If you are available, I would like to employ you to do some investigative work for us. Can you come and see me?”

“Sure, how about Monday morning 9 am.”

“That suits me fine. I’ll see you then.”

Staff at Music Land had spotted a stall holder at the Market Precinct in the City, offering CD’s, DVD’s and other music related products at low prices.

“Many of the products he has on sale are identical to the stock we sell,”  Harald Greene explained. “Our HQ has given me permission to look into the matter further. We want to know if his products are genuine, and if not, locate the source of his supply.”

Micro Taggants, microscopic identification particles on every Music Land product, mark it as a genuine article. The laser pen the Manager handed me activates when near the taggants up to a distance of one metre. No flashing light, no genuine product.

I was certain the job would be straight forward. The technology for duplication of media products is within easy reach of anybody who has a mind to do it, these days. If the products were illegal it was just a matter of finding the amateur impresario and giving Harold Greene the lowdown on the production location.

Tuesday, I hit the Market Precinct. A mid-twenties Asian man with a perpetual smile presided over a comprehensive selection of CD’s DVD’s and Music Video’s. With the laser pen taped to the inside of my wrist, a slight turn of my hand provided a view of the indicator light. I looked at the guy, “Are these all authentic products?” The smile remained but it was obvious that was too much English for him. “These,”  I said sweeping my hand over the display, “not fake?”

“Oh! no! no! not fake. All good All good.”

I smiled and nodded.

I handled various items from different areas of the display under the pretence of interest .The indicator had not flashed once. It was possible the Asian gentleman was the producer as well as the seller of the illicit media. The only avenue to determine that was by monitoring his movements over time.

Late that afternoon I sat in my car watching him pack up the stall and place everything under lock and key in the security lockers provided by the Market Administration. I tailed his vehicle to a small stucco house in an Asian neighbourhood. I knew it would take time. The stall was popular. He was selling items every-day. Hopefully, that meant he would need more stock soon. It required me to stake out his house early morning and the stall at finishing time. If he was not making the copies I would be on his tail when he visited his supplier.

Apart from a two hour visit to a local pokies venue Wednesday evening, my quarry kept to an unvarying routine. An early start at the stall and a late evening return home. Friday morning he caught me by surprise, pulling out of the driveway at the usual time and motoring off in the opposite direction from his usual route. I kept up with him until he turned into a factory car park in an industrial area. It was obviously a distribution centre. The place was a hive of activity. Cars pulling in, people loading boxes into their vehicles and driving off.

This was more than I had anticipated. Way beyond being a small one-man operation. After an hour, my man came out with boxes which he loaded into the back seat of his car. He went back inside twice reappearing with more boxes until the rear seat of his vehicle was stacked to the roof.

To my mind this place was a wholesale distribution centre. It was not the production centre. A few days surveillance here might get me a lead in that direction.

Two men in a black BMW X5 SUV visited the factory daily. A couple of hard looking characters. Both were tall. One lean and hawk-faced, the other large and Muscular with a black beard. Both wore dark brown leather Jackets and dark trousers. After a few days I pegged them as the owners of the business. If an illegal operation can be called a business. Shadowing them would get me to the base of operations.

I had an eerie feeling I was getting into deep water with these two Gorilla’s. They looked like professionals. The type who would spot a tail if I was careless.

The size of the operation puzzled me. I called Walter. My 18-year-old nephew is a University student living at home with his Parents. His computer skills have become an essential part of my business. I pay him for time spent on his computer for me.

“It’s research, this time Walter. Get me some facts on counterfeiting of  CD’s, DVD’s and Video. On counterfeiting in general, and who is doing it.”

“ No problem Uncle Charles.”

“ Email me a summary of what you come up with. And be sure to note how much time you spend.”

“Ok.”

It was afternoon on the day I followed them. I kept five cars behind in traffic. My odometer indicated 40 kilometres, as they turned into an abandoned industrial area, pulling up out front of one of a group of old Warehouses. The place had no windows. Nothing of the building's exterior gave any indication of what went on inside. The one loading bay might have given some view of the interior. For the present, the roller door was down.

It was imperative that I verify whether this was the counterfeiting centre before passing the location to Harald Greene. A brief foray inside was my only choice. My stomach was informing me of the need for food. I had a few hours before darkness. I drove back to the MacDonald’s, passed during the pursuit, for a leisurely meal.

10 pm I left my car half a kilometre from the warehouse and approached on foot. There appeared to be no security cameras on the building. I would have to brave whatever security was in place. My intent was a quick entry, a quick look around and a quick exit. A large padlock secured a side entrance door. I made quick work of that with the Private Investigators friend, a small set of locksmith’s lock picking tools.

Once inside my torch beam revealed what I was looking for. A bench beside a large offset printing press with set up runs of CD and DVD covers. Stacks of clear plastic CD, DVD and Video cases. Machines surrounded by evidence of being product duplicators. Evidence enough.

Loud voices and torch beams erupted from my entry door. I crouched down behind the printing machine. In the dark I had a good chance of getting out. Unfortunately, someone had begun to switch on the lights. My only chance was to make a run for it now. I bolted for the side door. I made it, but more shouts and torch beams told me they had seen me.

The bullet hit the brickwork as I raced down the alley between the buildings. The whining echo of another followed it. They were firing blind into the dark. I plunged ahead. My only thought was to get to my car. They were coming fast behind me. A shout went up each time a torch beam picked me out. Thankfully, I had not locked the car. I slid in behind the wheel, started the vehicle, and put my foot down. The last I saw of my pursuers was torch beams dancing around the rear of my vehicle. Trying for the numberplate?

Walters email that evening cleared up a lot of questions for me. Counterfeiting of media, prescription drugs, car parts, aviation parts, clothes, shoes and much more is a $600 billion industry. The biggest players are the Mafia, Chinese triad gangs, Irish Republican Army, Korean criminals, and terrorist groups. Which of these groups I had upset I did not know. I did know it was way above my pay grade. The battleground of Government agencies.

The sight of the shattered glass panel of my office door the next morning, prepared me for what was inside. Nothing in the office had escaped unscathed. Everything was smashed, slashed or beaten into uselessness. I guess they picked up my number plate. It was a warning. ‘Stay out of our business.’

I was philosophical. I could remedy the situation. Items could be replaced. The office repaired. It could have been much worse. Much worse !!

,

,

G
0
231
0