During a few years of attempting to write ghost stories or mysteries, I came up with three major stories: Horror of the Bermuda Triangle, the Shadowy Phantom and the Five Beasts. I have, however, completed none of them, leaving only paper of scribbles.

The Danger of the Trump is adapted from the Five Beasts. I have started planning this story four years ago when I was in Secondary 3. The story was set in a normal city in the United States. However, my three years’ experience in a absolute new environment changed my mind, and I began to write this story in the local context with a slight change in the plot. An Asian story should be more fun than an American story since nowadays everything is Americanised. This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual individuals or events are coincidental.

There was a downpour. Rumblings could be heard from the clouds hanging low oppressively under the heaven. They could barely be discerned from the dark sky. Only mistiness could be visible. The bellowing of the sky was alternating with the sudden appearance of violet lightning, which tore the nothingness apart with inexorability.

It was cursed night.

A black Cougar was driving quietly on a deserted street. Its quietness maybe due to the deafening bombardment of the bullet-like rain drops. Or perhaps it drove at an acceptable speed and did not accelerate at all. The head light shone the road ahead, and a clear moving reflection of the Cougar could be seen as well.

The Cougar turned a corner and came onto a narrow road without the presence of street lamps. It slowed down, and finally halted in front of an inconspicuous building. It is certainly very rare to find some place so dilapidated in this country. The driver pondered. He grabbed an umbrella on the co-driver seat and came out of the car. The umbrella is nothing more than a prop. He cursed, as he was soaked instantly. Then, he disappeared at the main gate of the building.

Without switching on the light, the man climbed to the fourth floor. He stopped in front of a door, felt the knob, and turned. The light in the room suddenly penetrate the darkness. The man squinted, and walked in.

It was a large laboratory inside, with researchers busy doing tests and experiments behind rows of long tables. Some are dealing with chemicals, with some are manipulating computers. Everything was so clean, sanitary and orderly that it did not look like somewhere out of an old building at all.

An old man with white work clothes came forward and greeted the man who just came in.

“Nice to see you here, Mr. Moon. Sorry, I am so underdressed.”

Mr. Moon did not seem to mind the old man’s attire. He simply nodded to him. There was no expression on his face. He was strolling on the aisle between two rows of tables. The old man hurried after him.

“The Boss was undoubtedly dissatisfied by the postponement of the date of completion of the drug. You know this better than I do, Professor Poon.” Mr. Moon said lazily without looking behind.

“I am certainly aware of that, Mr Moon. However, there are complications.” The professor replied.

“Complications should not be an excuse for your responsibilities. The Boss never forgives.” Mr. Moon snorted.

“But, please, sir,” said Professor Poon. “Please tell the Boss that the development of the drug is almost completed. Within a couple of days, it will be ready, and the Trump can be started.”

Mr. Moon stopped walking.

“You’d better.” said Mr. Moon, and turned to the door.

* * *

Two days later, the exam results were just out.

Joshua stared at his History promotional examination paper. He has chosen to answer the question about the Cold War. Mr. Lim had failed his paper, because he forgot to mention about the role of Britain in the Cold War, as well as the significance of Cuban Missile Crisis. Besides English Literature, this is the second paper he has failed. And he did not do too well for is Chemistry. He did not know what his parents would say.

The bell for the last lesson rang. He slipped his exam paper into his bag, and walked out of the classroom with his friend Xeric, chatting about a lot of lame stuff. When they reached the main gate of the College, Xeric asked Joshua if he wanted to play basketball at the court nearby.

“When can go Mac after that. Shiok right?” said Xeric.

Joshua considered, while Xeric’s spectacles were starting to turn brown after absorbing the light of the setting sun. A work of dissipation of silver chloride.

“I think maybe we can go on another day. I have to explain to my parents about my results first. If I survive tonight, we can then play basketball tomorrow.” Joshua smiled bitterly. “Besides, my parents wish me to eat at home, you know. They said ‘cos of the inflation thing over the whole world, it is not a good idea to waste money outside.”

“Sure then.” said Xeric, walking towards the bus stop on the left. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Joshua waved, and strode along the sideway in an opposite direction. His dad would pick him up at the other bus stop round the corner.

Tonight, Joshua would have something else to worry about. Something just like a nightmare.

To be continued…

Preoccupied with inexorable and inevitable truth, I had to revise. This left me little time to blog. But this last minute attempt failed me eventually, leaving me a poor Chemistry and Chinese Literature result. Yes, Chinese Literature. When I saw the result, I hardly could believe myself. And I became the most quiet person in the class instantly, deep in thought, misery and disbelief. Dementors would not enjoy it. I am certain about that. My teacher told me that I disappointed her the most, and I reckoned that she could have hit me with an iron as the entire this was such an irony. Chemistry? Please, I do not intend to talk about it, as it, well, yeah…

On a lighter note, these failures were forgotten quickly and I enjoyed the basketball game on Tuesday. Erm, forgotten maybe an inaccurate word. Or I shall put it this way, that the scores will definitely be forgotten, but the lesson will never be. Okay, coming back to the basketball game. It has been a really long time since the last time I touched the ball and felt its sensation. June, perhaps, after which the hostel basketball court was under a ludicrous nine months’ long reconstruction. The obsession with gym reduced the chance of playing basketball as well. So I really did enjoy the game.

There is something else. I start to read Inheritance Series again. LOL, now I cannot say it is a trilogy, since Paolini did not keep his promise to make Brisingr the last book of Eragon. Soon after June Common Test, I finished Eragon, and then keep Eldest deep in my drawer. But now, since two of my friends are reading Brsingr, another is reading Eragon…Oops, he has finished the book and proceeded to Eldest, I decided to begin reading Eldest, which I have never read before. Paolini’s style does not change in the second book. The rest of the magnificence of the Empire was spread out in front of the readers’ eyes with a pool of stunning vocabulary and events of amazement and shock. No wonder it has attracted the movie producer, but the outcome turns up to be almost a failure with a super compressed version of the Eragon, The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter in which a farm boy was turned into a hero, a saviour and a Shadeslayer in merely a couple of days. Perhaps his brain was also compressed, as he was deceived by a dream so easily. Another Sirus Black’s tragedy.

Time is pressing. PW…