Spikeheadamander Benjamin SWW

You’ve probably been to Portsmouth-on-solent. In summer, you probably dug holes and did body boarding. You might of feasted on a scrumptious ice-cream, lounged around on deckchairs and sip on refreshing drinks. you might of been to the Royal Navy Submarine Museum. But in winter, you would of felt the cold breeze wrap around your toes, rain leaking out the sky. You should come here when the fog appears, saber like icicles dangle from the seaside huts. My name is Magnus Lime (most people call me Limes) and I am the desk manager at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum. I count up money, give out tickets and keep thing moving. Someone once said to me that this job is boring but I like it. I have a little room behind the counter which I sleep in, entertain myself and eat. I have a little wood burner to keep warm in the dense winter. I’m lonely at night but, in the day, I have plenty to do as well as lots of visitors to let in during the summer. In winter we have one or two come in and sometimes none. Suddenly, there is a tapping on the window of my little room . A small grubby face appears I saw a little body then I realize that the body belonged to the head. Two sapphire eyes look at me and hisses, “Let me in!” I leap up at the window knocking it open the little boy slip through. “What do you want?” I asked “Just hide me!” Says the boy. Before I continue with what happens next, there is a little secret about the town I should tell you. I will worn you that it is a scary story. For this is a story of a gruesome creature, daggers and death. Dwelling in the deep dark depths there is a deadly creature too deadly to encounter, too secret to see and it lives not too far from the harbor. It lives in the abandoned ship H.M.S Warrior. It comes out every time the wind howls, waves crash against the seawall, lightning crashes down and thunder rumbles louder than normal. It has terrorized the Solent for thousands of year. sinking many ship, many hovercraft and many people who dare to do water sports during winter have disappeared. The beast turned on its masters. They fled in terror. So that is the story of the Spikeheadamander. I did worn you. “Why should I?” I ask “I saw it.” the boy squeals “Do you mean the…” I say “Yes the monster” says the boy

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