• This is my newest attempt. It's a little different, but I still think it's pretty creepy.  Please let me know what you think.

    As always, all comments, suggestions and critiques are strongly appreciated because they really help make my pastas better.


    Kyra’s Dad, was in her own words “weird”. He had always been, that was just how he was. She wasn't really sure what he did for a living. Not exactly. He worked from home and kept odd hours. He would just sit in this huge room in the house, that he called his “office” doing what he did and not really being seen much by anyone, including Kyra, who just so happened to be home schooled.

    Kyra, was an extremely advanced reader and even though she was only 8, could read at high-school level. She had a love of books that had been born in her dad’s office, since she was big enough to crawl. Dad’s office’s walls were lined with huge bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, shelves bent by the weight of all the books they held. He had also managed to put all the fairy tales and books with lots of colorful illustration on the first row of shelves. Strategically placed so her little hands could reach the big volumes with ease.

    Kyra would sit in a corner for hours on end, paging through the volumes, lost in their pages as her dad worked the night away. For the most part he would be completely oblivious to her presence either typing on his computer or consulting something in one of the “serious books”. Those were the ones he kept well out of reach and that Kyra always wondered what was written in them. But her dad never let her see one and would redirect her attention to some random book he would dig from some other shelve hand to her. 

    She would then forget completely about the musty old books and lose herself on the book her dad had given her. It was a low blow and she was catching on to it. But the books her dad  managed to pull out of nowhere always happen to be exactly what she wanted to read at the time. Almost as he could guess what she wanted.

    But eventually, Kyra could be distracted no longer. She just had to know what was in those books! She’d been wanting to know ever since she could remember. So one day, she decided to use the gift of re-direction she inherited from her father and finally see what was in those books. And no one was going to know about it!

    Since her dad never got up until at least noon, she waited for her mother to start cooking lunch. She then tiptoed into her dad's office and closed the door. She then wheeled his office chair against the one of the bookshelves and stood on her tippy-toes to reach the top shelf. There she grabbed one of the leather bound books and scampered down the chair and pushed it back to its place. She then hid the book  in her stuffed toy chest and was done just in time as her mother went to wake up her dad and call her for lunch.

    Dad never noticed the book was gone. At least not till she went to bed. She almost couldn't sleep all night thinking about how that book was just a few feet from her, inside her toy chest. But she knew very well her dad was going to be up all night again. You can hide a book, but you can’t read one in the dark.

    The next day she rushed through her math and reading assignments so fast that her mom gave her some free time to play or read what she wanted to until lunch time.  Her mother then went on to do a few chores around the house and left her alone. After all, how much trouble could a kid get in by herself in her room?

    Kyra did not know what to make of that strange book. It was old. Very, very old. From the time when they spelled things weird, olde. Olde with an “e” she giggled. It had all these weird drawings too and it strangely read more like a recipe book then a story book or a “facts” book. And some of the drawings were downright scary.

    But even so, she decided to try one of those recipes, just to see what would happen. She kind of suspected this was a spell-book, like the ones in the storybooks she liked to read. And thought of doing a spell was too exciting to pass up. She picked the spell using two criteria: that it wasn’t for anything too scary and that she could manage to get all the ingredients. Finally, she found one that involved a mirror, some candles and a few things she was sure she could smuggle out of the kitchen when her mom wasn't looking. Getting the stuff was easy. Finding the right window when Dad was sleeping and Mom was engaged in something that would take a while proved to be much more of a challenge. Eventually the chance came up and Kyra took it.

    She place the mirror and the candles in the right position and used some sidewalk chalk to draw the strange symbol on the back of her play-mat. After checking that Mom was still in the laundry room she ran back and closed her door. She didn't want them to see her lighting candles in her room, they would classify that as “playing with fire” and give her a sound spanking if she got caught. 

    She lit the candles and then tried as best as she could to pronounce the words that were part of the spell. There was a puff of stinky smoke that seemed to come from the mirror, and when it cleared she saw there was a little man, not much taller than a Barbie doll or a teddy bear in front of the mirror.

    “Kyra what’s that smell?” she heard her mom shout from across the hallway. 

    “I was playing with my chemistry set, Mom,” she shouted back and quickly put out and hid the candles and flipped her play-mat over. She then put her finger on her lips to tell the little man to be quiet and managed to convince him to get in the toy chest before her mom came in the room.

    “I told you I don’t want you playing with that inside the house, Kyra. If you want to use your chemistry set go to it on the porch. Now the whole house smells like rotten eggs!”

    “Yes, Mom,” she said looking down. “Sorry, Mom.”

    Her mom then went on a little more about how now she was going to have to open all the windows to air the house out and moved on to busy herself doing just that. Mom was a busy body and really had a hard time standing still for over five minutes. At least she didn't get grounded and her secret was safe. 

    Kyra opened her toy chest and let the little man out. He was a funny looking little man. He was short  with little stocky legs and arms and his skin was brown like cinnamon. He was dressed in what appeared to be little more than a cloth sack with holes cut for his arms and head to poke through. And speaking of head, his huge compared to his body. He had a really big nose and big, pointy ears and his eyes looked more like a cat’s than a person's.

    She asked him his name, to which he replied, “You called me, you name me.” And so she did. And that is how Jacob Johanon Jakoboboxin and Kyra met. Kyra came to really like her new little fiend. Unlike grown-ups he could sit forever and listen to her talk about everything and nothing. She told him everything. From her likes and dislikes, to her favorite movies, cartoons and comic books. She complained about her mother being too strict, her dad being too distant and math being too hard. She told him how she thought how this little boy she saw in the park was cute, how another little boy was mean, and third one was goofy. She told him how she wanted a cat and how the neighbors dog scared her when he came up behind her and started barking. She said she wish someone would fix him so he wouldn't bark.

    And everything seemed to be going fine for a while. Jacob Johanon Jakoboboxin would spend the day with her and go off running around the neighborhood while she slept. Which was fine by her, since she found the thought of him being around while she slept, a little creepy. At first she was really worried that her parents would see her new friend, so she always made him sit surrounded by plush toys to disguise himself. That was until one fine day Jacob Johanon Jakoboboxin told her he could make himself invisible to all but her. He also told her that now that he was getting strong again, thanks to her, he could do all kinds of things for her as well.

    So Jacob Jonathan Jakoboboxin started at first doing a few of her chores, and quickly graduated to stealing cookies from the cookie jar to bring to sneak to Kyra. It seemed like a dream, until the weird stuff started happening. At first it was just little things, like the broccoli burning even though her mom was a great cook. Then a little kitten appearing out of nowhere and her mom suggesting they’d adopt it, even though she was severely allergic to cats. After that things started to get scary.

    The scariest of all was one day when she was coming home from the neighborhood park. The neighbors dog sneaked up behind her again, but he didn't bark. She turned around to look at him and what she saw, made her run home screaming. The dog had not barked because his mouth seemed to have been fused shut. Much as if someone took an eraser to his lips and rubbed it off like if he was a drawing.

    That night she confronted Jakoboboxin.

    “But you said someone fix him,” he said with a gleam in his eyes,. “Jakoboboxin fixed him,” and he the bowed as if to say “you’re welcome”.

    “But how is he going to eat?” she asked.

    “Oh, no eat,” he said. “ He starve. Jakoboboxin fix him good.”

    “You have to undo this, Jakoboboxin” she commanded.

    “Jakoboboxin cannot undo what Jakoboboxin done.” he said. “Against rules.”

    “Jakoboboxin, you are scarring me!”

    “That bad, very bad,” Jakoboboxin said. “ Jakoboboxin do favor. You scream at Jakoboboxin. Jakoboboxin hurt. Jakoboboxin no want to be friends no more.”

    “I’m going to tell my Dad everything!” Kyra said.

    “Oh no do that,” Jakoboboxin almost hissed, “You tell and Jakoboboxin needs to kill them. Needs to kill them nasty ways.” 

    “Go away, Jakoboboxin! I don’t want you here anymore!”

    “Jakoboboxin go,” he said menacingly, “But Jakoboboxin never go away.”

    And so the reign of terror began. Things started to go missing, things started breaking and Kyra was getting blamed for all of it. She protested, and told them she didn't do it. But when she blamed it on Jakoboboxin her parents brushed off as an imaginary friend. Then one day she found her cat dead, cut open and left on her porch.

    That night, she woke up from a terrible nightmare, to find Jakoboboxin sitting cross-legged on top of her chest. “Jakoboboxin very angry with Kyra,” he said with a snarl. “Kyra calls Jakoboboxin. Jakoboboxin come. Then Kyra no like Jakoboboxin no more. Kyra tell Jakoboboxin to go away, but Jakoboboxin can no go home.” His weight was crushing her, she could barely breathe. She wanted to jump, to scream but she could not move her limbs and she could barely breathe, let alone scream.

    “Jakoboboxin gonna fix Kyra, like he fix bad dog.” he said as he started leaning towards her face and slowly open his arms. She could feel his saliva dripping on her face as he drooled, she could smell his rotten breath as he inched closer, looking straight into her eyes. “Then maybe Jakoboboxin can go home. So say rules.”

    Kyra noticed for the very first time how sharp his teeth were and how cruel his eyes . She was terrified, She couldn't move, she couldn't scream. The only thing she could do was close her eyes and think real hard how she wished her Dad would come help her. Maybe he could hear her, just like he always seemed to know what she was thinking. “Kyra can no scream. Jakoboboxin take care of that,” he hissed. “Now time for Kyra die!”

    He raised his hand and she could seem his nails slowly getting bigger and bigger and his hands twisting and looking more and more like a talons. He raised his hand and was about to slash her throat when the door to her room opened up.

    “What is going on here?” She heard a voice say. It was her father. He looked into the bedroom and saw the imp sitting on his child’s chest and smothering her. With unexpected clarity of mind he jumped towards the bed, grabbed Jakoboboxin by his neck and threw him hard against the wall. Jakoboboxin got up and sprang up at Kyra’s dad, but he ducked just in time and the little imp kept going and hit the wall on the opposite side of the room.

    Kyra still could not move, but she saw her dad take out a twisted stick out of his jacket’s pocket and say something in a language she did not understand. Jakoboboxin's eyes opened wide, he clutched his throat and tried to scream. There was a blinding flash of light, and when Kyras eyes could see again, she saw that Jakoboboxin was gone.

    “Is there something you want to tell me, Pumpkin?” He asked. Strangely, there was no anger in his voice. Then again, her dad was weird. 

    “You know how you always tell me that books are my friends,Daddy?” She said, noticing her voice was back.

    “And they are, Pumpkin,” he said, sitting on the bed beside her. “And I always tell you that all my books will one day be yours too, don’t I?”

    “Yes, Daddy,” she said, hugging him hard and letting her tears flow.

    “So there is no reason for you to rush things Pumpkin.”

    “It’s just I really wanted to see what was in those books…” she whimpered.

    “It’s okay, Pumpkin,” he said, hugging her reassuringly. “Daddy's not mad. That’s something you got from my side of the family,” he said almost apologetically. He then looked her straight in the eyes and smiled and made a funny face. That’s what he always did when she was scared. And it always worked. “I’m just glad Mom is a heavy sleeper. If she saw half of this, it would be divorce for sure!”

    “I won’t do it again, Daddy.”

    “But you will,” he said with a smile. “But let’s wait a few more years, and then I’ll be glad to show you.”

    “You promise?” 

    “Pinky-promise,” he said. “But you have to promise me something very important.”

    “I promise I’ll never take those books behind your back again,” she reaffirmed.

    “It's not that, Pumpkin, I know you won't.” he said. “What I want you to promise is that whatever you do, you won't tell Mom!”

    And they both laughed real hard, and then he laid there with her until she fell asleep.

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    • There was a lack of punctuation with the dialogue starting halfway in. You capitalize the first letter in certain words after a bit of dialogue when it's unnecessary. Below are some erroneous bits that I'm sure you can spot the mistakes in:

      "...some other shelve hand hand to her."

      "...into her dads office..."

      "...back to it’s place."

      "...from the time were they spelled things weird..."

      "...his eyes looked more like a cat’s then a person's."

      As for the story itself, I thought it was rather interesting. It's a concept I don't believe I've come across before on this site, so it was certainly refreshing to read. I think it petered out near the ending, and maybe you could add some more substance to it. Overall, it was another good story.

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    • You are absolutetly right once again, Resident. (Besides the grammar of course, but that's a given ; )

      The ending kind of fizzed a bit, basically for two reasons. The first, is that in a lot of ways, it contains some autobiographical elements in it. The girl is my daughters age, and pretty much is based on her. There are also a lot of similarities between her dad and me. Even the dialog at the end is very much like ones we had and have. The only real difference is my nickname for her is "Bookworm" and not pumpkin and none of my books teach you how to successfully summon an imp.

      The other reason, is i think it was getting rather long winded. Kind of what I believe is longer then a pasta should be. What to do you think?

      I do want do a final version. But my big concern is if it's going to be to long if I add more?

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    • If what you add is relevant, and if any new information is cleverly conveyed throughout the story, then I don't see how it could be too long. The plot isn't like the ones you find in micropastas, where the story must come to a satisfying conclusion as soon as humanly possible.

      Besides, isn't it common for 1000-page novels to stretch a really simple message over an insane amount of pages? As long as your story remains riveting, it can be however long you want; that's really the best answer I can give you.

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    • I agree. Just wondering if it would be too long for here. I  guess I'll explore some other idea while I decide what to do with this one. It would be a first though, a story with a happy ending. lol

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    • You should really focus on showing and not telling. Other than what's mentioned above, why was the dad not puting two and two together? It seems a little odd.

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    • Basically there could be two possibilities here:

      The first is that he is pretty much removed from the rest of the family. He's usually up when everyone is asleep and vice-versa. Also, even though his daughter likes to read in his offce and hang out with him, he is usually so involved in his work he does not really give her much attention. 

      You could also argue that he is well aware of what is going on and feels that it's an important test/lesson his daughter has to go through in order to take over his position when she grows up.

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    • Booboofinger wrote:
      Basically there could be two possibilities here:

      The first is that he is pretty much removed from the rest of the family. He's usually up when everyone is asleep and vice-versa. Also, even though his daughter likes to read in his offce and hang out with him, he is usually so involved in his work he does not really give her much attention. 

      You could also argue that he is well aware of what is going on and feels that it's an important test/lesson his daughter has to go through in order to take over his position when she grows up.

      Um no. This girl's like, six. I don't think six year olds are capable of making cereal in the morning, much less going through a nearly deadly trial. Not to mention this imp was screwing with her mom's self control, this man's wife. And then there's the dog (which I think the neighbor would have taken to the vet to have fed through a tube) and the cat (which would have been a pretty big sign to the dad that "Hey man, you might wanna look into this.") You're saying this man was so willing to have his daughter handle something herself as opposed to stepping in and saving about four (+the potential threat of it killing his wife and daughter) living beings?

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    • Read it more carefully. It is plainly stated that the girl is 8. Plus her mom is the one feeding her breakfast. 

      Also I would say the imp is more "influencing" then controlling the mom. Neighbor's do: the father is not a social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination. Plus think about how well you are aware of things happening to your neighbors? I know I have lived in the same house for 6 years, and there are about 2 neighbors in the entire neighborhood that I even know their names.

      As far as the cat, sure it made it obvious something was up. But the final showdown was on the same night.

      I know there is still a lot that needs to be done to this story. But I think the father is one of the points that is working. And again, I think the main reason for the dad not putting two and two together is because he is simply aloof like many parents are. Same as a parent who does not know their kid is getting involved with drugs until it's too late.

      What is keeping me from publishing it at this point is just that I think it need some development into where the imp's good deeds start going sour (culminating on the dog episode) and how he goes on doing his "reign of terror".

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    • Breakfast wasn't an example, not a problem omg I just meant that a deadly trial such as solving her own problems when it comes to something that could KILL HER is not something I would allow her to do as a parent. You were the one that stated that possibility, not me. Also, I don't talk to my neighbors. That's true. But I did notice one day that her dog wasn't outside, and I had enough common curtousy to ask what happened. (It died.) And let me tell you, whether I knew it was an evil imp or not, if my daughter's cat had its throat slashed open I would move my family to another house (Maybe a hotel for the night?) and call the police. I wouldn't just say "Fuck my kid let out an evil imp, oh well I'll take care of it." Also, you state that the daughter was a very good little girl until she let out the imp. Wouldn't the dad at LEAST take note of the girl's sudden change in behavior? Maybe you can slow down the story a bit and show this. All I'm saying is: No parent is THAT oblivious, especially when it comes to something they know. Going with your drug example, it's like having a certified doctor with their child. If their child starts doing drugs, don't you think the parent will notice the signs?

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    • You raised some interesting points, and I have been thinking about how to make it all work out.

      I guess the main tension here comes from the fact that as far as Kyara is concerned (and it might well be true) is that no one knows that she has the imp.

      As far as her father is concerned he might be aware of it, given his background, but strange as this may seem to normal folk, does not consider it enough of a threat until things really get out of hand.

      Even when it does, he handled the situation with such ease, that it makes you really wonder if his daughter was in any danger at all.

      At any rate, I have addressed some of the inconsistencies already, but I am going to proof it a bit before I post the new version.

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