I have had to stop writing for a moment because my pain almost got the best of me again. The best way to describe it 99% physical, from my injury, and 99% mental, from all the damage my injury caused in my life. The pain was returning and physically crippling me again and in the past all I could do was hide from the world. So that’s what I did, again. I could say I’m fighting too many battles and I’m tired of fighting the world or that my writing computer broke, but the truth is that I was just scared. Scared of sleeping because I keep dreaming of the life I once had or should have now but don’t, so I don’t sleep much anymore. Scared of talking to people or seeing anyone because I don’t want people to feel sorry for me, I don’t like the word sorry because it’s proved meaningless in my life and has only served to hurt me. And to the opposite, people can say some pretty mean shit and it does add to the pain, just because I don’t see the people talking doesn’t mean I can’t hear. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of time to think about writing and the whole horror thing. Since too many people have their own definition of just what horror is, I’ve decided to just write under Dark Fiction because that’s what it really is. Just dark stories and people can call it whatever they want from there. I have stories that range from science-fiction to supernatural to who knows what the hell to call it, but they are all a dark and a little screwed up. My real life is a psychological horror in itself with the way out always being just out of reach and the only way to truly get out is to keep trying, to keep writing.
writing
Not even a title yet
This is from a very old idea and I have no clue how it will turn out. This is how I build up some of my stories. I set up the story line in first person and add on from there. So this is a rough rough draft and I’m kind of excited to see where it goes.
My name is Cevin Del Lorrelli, pronounced like Kevin. My father was a clown indeed. That’s why he spelled it with a C, as in clown. He loved making people laugh and putting smiles on the faces of children. After a show, he would show up to birthday parties just for the love of it. He would never charge a dime. It was a sad day in clown history when he passed. He was duped into thinking he was going to entertain at a child’s party but when he got there… Well let’s just say he didn’t die doing what he loved. The show he worked for kept me with them and started paying me to work in the background. I tried to be a clown but they kept telling no. I just wanted to follow in my fathers footsteps.
One night while I was breaking down a tent, I learned a secret about the show that I was never supposed to know. I learned that everything was real. The magicians performed real magic and the trapeze artists could really fly. The clowns that ran everything were not human, they wore the makeup to hide what they really looked like. All this was hidden in plain sight, not even I knew. My dad knew they weren’t human and didn’t mind. He just saw them as fellow clowns. I found out that they kept my dad around to avoid suspicion and talk to police if they needed him to. They had to get rid of him once he learned what they were really doing. They would stop at towns with a high missing persons rate so no one would catch on, and no one ever did. These things would lure an unsuspecting family to a private show then devour them. In my fathers name, I couldn’t let that happen.
After overhearing them talk, I just had to see for myself. That night I crept into the private tent that I was never allowed to enter and I hid. They started with a simple show full of jokes and gags then would bring the family to the center of the tent and surround them. They became like wild beasts, ripping and tearing away at their flesh. I made my way out of the tent and tried not to vomit. I knew their secret and if they knew I found out, they would have killed me too.
The next day I avoided everyone and stuck to my job. I hammered in the stakes that came loose, picked up trash and made sure the show would go on. When anyone would ask me anything, I just kept my head down. The night came and they were getting ready for another private show. I hid in the tent once more and this time, I brought my hammer.
Part of chapter 2 from Life Once Was
I’ve had to slow down the work on the short stories so I could get to work on the novel. I’m still writing the short stories only I won’t be able to post them as much as I normally do. I have so many ideas and can only type so fast (which is actually very slow). I’m doing my best and I’m sure that you writers out there know that writing a story worth reading takes time. This is only about 1/3 of the chapter but it starts to point you where the story is going…. Kind of.
James stared for just a moment peering out of the sliding glass door and as soon as he saw movement he looked at Mr. Brown and nodded, then ran into his bed room. Mr. Brown and David stood up instructing the girls to go into James’ room and hide while they find out what was going on. As they were going into the room, James was running back out with his shotgun. When they crossed paths, he handed Michelle her own pistol and told her to call the police. Then all of a sudden, they began to hear shots going off around the neighborhood. An uneasy empty feeling entered the pit of their stomachs. The kind of feeling that everyone gets when they think they are ready for something but deep down they know they’re not. Scared and panicked, Michelle’s bottom lip quivered as she mewled out, “What the fuck is going on out there?” To which James gave her a quick kiss and replied, “I don’t know but I’m going to find out. Now you two stay in here and call the cops. Anyone else tries to come in here, shoot. Don’t bother asking questions, just fucking shoot.” Shots still continued to randomly ring out, along with screams and cries for help as the three cautiously moved towards the sliding glass door. They expected to just scare someone off but, after hearing the gunshots, they really didn’t know what to expect anymore. Continue reading
My Veterans Day Story
Today is Veterans Day. Some of you may or may not know that I am a U.S. Veteran. And for this day set aside to honor Vet’s, I will tell the story of why I write now. I’m not going to candy-coat it like some stories I’ve heard because soldiers can steal valor too and I won’t be a part of that. I’m in the U.S. Army Reserves, I have been since 2008. I stayed reserve side for personal reasons, mainly my daughter. I am not OEF OIF, I don’t wear a patch on my right shoulder (for those of you who know what that means). When people would see me trying to walk in uniform with my cane, walker or when I was in a wheelchair, they would come up to me with these huge smiles then express their concern for me. Then they would all ask the same thing, “Did you get shot/blown up in Iraq/Afghanistan?” Their awe and concern would instantly disappear when I said, “No, I broke my spine at Ft. McCoy, WI.” Then they would just tell me good luck and walk away. I was born with depression but the doctors I had when I was younger taught me ways to deal with it but, they had no way of preparing me for the existence and hell I was going through after I got injured. It still spins around in my head and will never become a scar because what I felt will never heal. Imagine you are surrounded by family and friends, then you fall while carrying 10 gallons of water and try to catch yourself only you hear a loud crack instead. Then you loose your balance because you are still falling and land with your spine on a large piece of granite and hear another loud crack as the filled water cans hammer your spine into the rock. Then all that they do while you’re in shock and try to move is say, “Man, you look like you gotta take a shit.” And that’s all, no doctor, no hospital, no concern. That happened 31May2012. A few months ago, I was finally able to see a physical therapist, before they actually found out what was wrong with me, and I told her how my body went completely numb. She said that it was my brain turning off my pain receptors so my body doesn’t go into shock. Do any of you have any idea of what it’s like to not feel anything, not even the wind, it’s the most haunting thing imaginable because when that happened, I thought i was a ghost. I had to be, I couldn’t feel anything and most of the other soldiers paid no attention to me as if I wasn’t there. That shit still creeps me out thinking about it. Our commander cared a whole lot about us taking a survey but didn’t care about the soldier that had to crawl to reach water. No one cared. The storm of being disabled without any kind of help destroyed my life. When I was able to think through the pain, I would try to kill myself but was too weak to accomplish the task. I begged every hospital, every clinic and even my own unit for help but they ALL said no. I was even tossed out of the local emergency room back in Texas. Civilian side said they can’t help because it’s the military’s problem and the military said, “Damn! That looks painful. You need to see a doctor. Why don’t you go to the E.R.” Every one passed the buck and their collective laziness and disregard destroyed my family. I spent almost a year and a half wanting death, then my son was born and finding help just became a dream. I had to fight my way though hell and some how pull myself up, alone, without any help. There is more to it but that is just too personal. My fight was now to clean up the mess that was my life. When I changed focus from trying to find help to “FUCK YOU ALL, I’LL HELP MYSELF” then help started to arrive, in small doses of course. I researched different things I could do to help me walk again and it help for a while my emotional state was still ruined. That’s why I started writing my stories and working on my books, It gave me some kind of self worth and I will write til I die. I incorporate some of what I went through in my stories in such a way that the readers won’t be able to tell but it’s there. When I finally got to see a REAL doctor (who didn’t give a shit at first, just like the rest) he found out exactly what was wrong with me. I had SIJ, where my hip was not connected to my sacral joints ( not connected to my spine), as far off as it was, my doctor said there was no way I should have been able to stand, but I did. Then he found that one of my sacral joints had a disk instead of being fused together like a normal person, and it was crushed. On top of that, I have a nerve wrapped around it so surgery was not an option. For now I get 2 injections at a time but I can do that forever, you can only have so many a year. As for my role in my unit, I’m in medical limbo. I can’t leave the Army and the Army can’t leave me until they find that I’m stable which might actually happen next year. I have been put through hell but you know what, I would sign those papers again willingly because I know what it means to be a United States Veteran. People can say what they want about our military but in the end, we are willing to give our lives in the name of freedom and that’s what this day is about, honoring those that accept that challenge and responsibility. Happy Veterans Day
side note: This really happened and that’s not even close to all I went through. I am able to stand and walk now. I’m not writing for sympathy because with it’s absence, I grew to despise it. I don’t really care what people think about it, as a human being I deserve the right to tell my story and be heard for once.
Work on “In Darkness Hides” the First story for V1#3
So the story I’m working on right now, In Darkness Hides, was originally two different stories from the same dream. That’s where the title Dark Dreams (now a completely different story in Fate’s Darkened Beauty V1#1) came from and the other title was A New Day. When I started writing the story outlines as a teenager, most of my stuff was very apocalyptic and this was one of them. The poles shifted on the Earth’s axis and the research at the time (around 1990-91) stated that if something like that did happen, gravity would be out of whack for a few days. But there where two elements to the story which is why I split them in the first place, the dark element that made surviving an apocalyptic event worthless, it’s like being up shit creek without a paddle then you get a big hole in the boat. Now the two are joined once more and it’s heading into a direction I never thought it would. As I write, sometimes not even I know the outcome when I start so of course like the readers I want to know what’s going to happen too.
Horror in My World
I write horror, though today people seem to have a different opinion of just what horror is. It creating a character that the reader or viewer can relate to then putting them through some kind of horrific event, that’s where the name horror comes from, at least that’s how I see it. It’s not dumping buckets of blood on some naked girls, yes that gets viewers and readers but, that doesn’t make it horror. You don’t need death or blood or some kind of supernatural event for example: A girl stands up to accept an award for school and goes up on stage. When she takes a bow , she farts and the microphone picks it up. Then the sound echoes throughout the hall. What she feels and what readers and viewers pick up on is the terror coursing throughout her. That is horror. Today most people try to make the bloodiest, goriest thing they can, throw in some nudity and slap a horror label on it. Then they wonder why, if they have so many viewers they have a crappy rating. That’s because after the viewer gets their cheap thrills, they don’t care about the story and can’t relate the the characters. To me that’s not horror. Don’t get me wrong, I know some great erotic horror writers out there and a lot of them are right here on WordPress but I’m not talking about them. They create great characters that are the main focus of the story and they are put through some hell. You can’t help but to follow their torment, that’s Horror! I do use supernatural events and blood and some gore in my stories but the main focus is on the characters and what happens to them. I try getting the reader to feel the terror that the characters are experiencing, I want them to follow the story line and not get caught up with, “Are there boobs and blood?” I going to put an end to this rant because I need to get back to my books. I just hope this give some insight to the true nature of Horror that we all love.
The entire first chapter of Life Once Was
Here it is, the entire first chapter of my novel.
Dreams can be quite strange , they can be good, bad or both. They can be your most amazing fantasy or be your worst nightmare, reflect what happened during your day or bring out your worst fears from the past. The strangest things about dreams is that they can be deceptive by giving you a truthful glimpse of what is to come. Dreams are strange indeed.
As David walked down the street with his thick leather boots and olive drab jacket, he had no emotion of any kind on his face. He just moved with a purpose. All was dark and quiet except for the little bit of liquid sloshing around in the gas can he had with him. The moon was dim but gave off just enough light for him to see his surroundings. There were no people around that he could see, the streets were empty, lifeless and silence was cold. He wasn’t sure where he was or how he got there though the neighborhood felt eerily familiar. Still, he didn’t let it bother him, he just kept on walking with the wind seemingly following him. The houses around him were abandoned and falling apart but not enough to conceal their former charm and composition. He could still tell that this was once a beautiful neighborhood that was full of life. The once white picket fences were now in disrepair, charred and broken, plants that had been vibrant were shriveled and dried up and dead, lawns once neatly manicured were spotted with overgrown weeds with trash and debris blowing around them.
When he came to the middle of the block he stopped and thew the near empty gas can at a house. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a lighter and some crudely fashioned sticks wrapped in and oil soaked rags. David spoke under his breath, “It’s time to start anew.” Then without thought and still emotionless, he lit the rags on fire then threw them at the nearest house. Almost instantly the house took to the flame and spread up and down the street jumping from house to house following the trail of gasoline he had laid out.
David kept walking down the empty street, houses now ablaze, like nothing was wrong. Just watching the houses burn as if the neighborhood was still in it’s prime and covered in Christmas lights. This brought David comfort and somehow made him feel safer. He gave himself false memories of children that once played there, laughing and chasing each other up and down the street. Of people pulling into their driveway and waving at their neighbors. He thought of an old woman that took pride and loved working in her flower garden. He just wanted to picture that neighborhood they way it might have been. Continuing on, the fire from the burning houses lit up the sky with it’s orange glow, lighting his way through the night. Then something in one of the houses caught his attention, pulling him out of his daydream. He noticed some kind of movement coming from behind the flames. When he got a better look, his eyes widened as he saw the burning silhouettes running around erratically inside the inferno. David began to panic. He started waving his arms and running toward the burning figures trying to get their attention. He began shouting, screaming, calling for anyone who could hear him but something was different, something wasn’t right. As he shouted his voice was not there, instead only silence was emitted. His mouth was open but the only sounds were that of wood crackling in the fires. Continue reading
Dream sequence for my novel
I had posted the original dream sequence back in September but have since revised and edited it on Sunday. I had a chance to take a break from writing when I went to Camp Bullis with my unit this past weekend. I had time to reflect on my writing as apposed to just writing what my imagination tells me. I looked more than listened and want to bring that description to life. The revised version is twice as long and in my opinion, much better.
Dreams can be quite strange , they can be good, bad or both. They can be your most amazing fantasy or be your worst nightmare, reflect what happened during your day or bring out your worst fears from the past. The strangest things about dreams is that they can be deceptive by giving you a truthful glimpse of what is to come. Dreams are strange indeed.
As David walked down the street with his thick leather boots and olive drab jacket, he had no emotion of any kind on his face. He just moved with a purpose. All was dark and quiet except for the little bit of liquid sloshing around in the gas can he had with him. The moon was dim but gave off just enough light for him to see his surroundings. There were no people around that he could see, the streets were empty, lifeless and silence was cold. He wasn’t sure where he was or how he got there though the neighborhood felt eerily familiar. Still, he didn’t let it bother him, he just kept on walking with the wind seemingly following him. The houses around him were abandoned and falling apart but not enough to conceal their former charm and composition. He could still tell that this was once a beautiful neighborhood that was full of life. The once white picket fences were now in disrepair, charred and broken, plants that had been vibrant were shriveled and dried up and dead, lawns once neatly manicured were spotted with overgrown weeds with trash and debris blowing around them.
When he came to the middle of the block he stopped and thew the near empty gas can at a house. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a lighter and some crudely fashioned sticks wrapped in and oil soaked rags. David spoke under his breath, “It’s time to start anew.” Then without thought and still emotionless, he lit the rags on fire then threw them at the nearest house. Almost instantly the house took to the flame and spread up and down the street jumping from house to house following the trail of gasoline he had laid out.
David kept walking down the empty street, houses now ablaze, like nothing was wrong. Just watching the houses burn as if the neighborhood was still in it’s prime and covered in Christmas lights. This brought David comfort and somehow made him feel safer. He gave himself false memories of children that once played there, laughing and chasing each other up and down the street. Of people pulling into their driveway and waving at their neighbors. He thought of an old woman that took pride and loved working in her flower garden. He just wanted to picture that neighborhood they way it might have been. Continuing on, the fire from the burning houses lit up the sky with it’s orange glow, lighting his way through the night. Then something in one of the houses caught his attention, pulling him out of his daydream. He noticed some kind of movement coming from behind the flames. When he got a better look, his eyes widened as he saw the burning silhouettes running around erratically inside the inferno. David began to panic. He started waving his arms and running toward the burning figures trying to get their attention. He began shouting, screaming, calling for anyone who could hear him but something was different, something wasn’t right. As he shouted his voice was not there, instead only silence was emitted. His mouth was open but the only sounds were that of wood crackling in the fires.
He began looking around for anything to put out the fires and rescue the people inside until the burning figures fell out of sight. He tried to shield his eyes as the wind picked up. The road became covered in ash, blowing around in the breeze then falling to the ground like gentle snow. He thought to himself, How could the ash pile up this quickly? The gray powder was almost 5” high and coated his entire body. Wiping the soot from his eyes he was frightened and confuse when he was able to focus on what now lay on top of the accumulated dust. They were everywhere, bodies just scattered all around him. They weren’t here before, I know they weren’t. Where did they all come from? They looked as if they had been dead and decomposing for quite some time but oddly, they were not covered in ash like everything else on the street. It seemed as though they were just plucked from where they had died, unknown and left to rot, and placed there so lightly as not to disturb the ash. But how was the question he couldn’t answer. Questions ran through his mind and he began to wonder what happened to those people and why was he burning the houses.
Puzzled, David thought, Was there some kind of accident? Did they cause all this or did I?
One of the bodies started to twitch then began crawling towards David with great difficulty. The mans legs were completely paralyzed, just dead weight dangling behind a burnt torso. His arms were missing some flesh but still the man used them to inch closer and closer to David, reaching out towards him as if he were asking for help. As he ran over to see if he could help the injured crawling man, the figure just stopped moving and plopped down on the gray powdery road. Avoiding the burning debris that spread to the trees, he reached the man and flipped his body over only to see it was as lifeless as the rest. Suddenly the man’s eyes popped opened and locked with David’s. Then the man grabbed hold of David’s arm and spoke, “Only time can kill us David!” he was startled and jumped back, struggling to free himself from the man’s unyielding grip that only seemed to get tighter. The burnt man started laughing at David’s attempts to break free. As the fear and adrenaline rose in his blood he felt something different come over him, something cold and heartless. The emotion was drained from his face. He twisted the mans arm arm, grabbed his wrist and shoved his boot onto the bone on his exposed elbow. Staring at his face, he leaned forward putting more and more pressure until he heard a loud snap that vibrated up his own leg. The man let off a resounding shriek that resonated in his head causing his ears to bleed. The neighborhood began to quake violently sending David to the floor and he man’s scream continued to echo up and down the street. Suddenly, his voice returned a he could hear his own frightened cries, waking him from his dream.
He awoke screaming, panicked and covered in sweat with his heart pounding. “What the hell kind of dream was that?” he asked himself.
I Love Halloween
Scott loved Halloween very much. He remembered having such fun as a child with people in his neighborhood doing their best to frighten everyone with masks and haunted houses. But it was the jack-o-lanterns that brought it all together. That was the symbol for Halloween itself, what he thought was the greatest day of the year, and his was the only house in the neighborhood that didn’t have one. He started his search just the day before Halloween looking in pumpkin patches all over town, trying to find what would make the absolute perfect jack-o-lantern. Sadly, the day was coming to an end and his search for the perfect pumpkin was fruitless. He felt so beaten by this and began his journey home with his head hung. Then there it was on the side of the road, the perfect jack-o-lantern waiting to be made and place on his steps. He was overcome with joy as he brought it home and placed it in his kitchen, staring at it carving out what will be it’s new face in his mind. The perfect image came to him, it was the classic jack-o-lantern with the triangle eyes and nose and crude crescent mouth. That was the image that represented Halloween to him and that was what he was going to do. He went looking through his fathers old tools and found a keyhole saw, the perfect tool to carve the perfect jack-o-lantern. Sawing, sawing, sawing, he removed the top and started to hollow out the inside. Sawing, sawing, sawing, he carved out the triangles for the eyes and nose. Sawing, sawing, sawing, he carved out the jagged teeth and mouth. There it was, the perfect homage to Halloween, the perfect jack-o-lantern. Scott placed it on the steps leading up to his porch, placed the lit candle inside and then replaced the top of the poor woman’s skull, completing his perfect jack-o-lantern. He took a few steps back and with a smile from his childhood he said, “I love Halloween.”
Finally got #2 up
Finally got #2 live, as soon as I uploaded, Amazon was having problems with the publishing. This issue has the complete versions of Bone Deep, Family Eternal and Cruel Young. It also has When Light is Gone, something take control of an island leaving everyone in the dark, and Chuck, he’s a paranormal investigator but he does things a little different from the rest.
Family Eternal
This will be last story in V1 #2. It’s based on something my daughter told me when she was only two years old and it disturbed the hell out of me. She said, “Daddy, when I was six, my mommy broke all my bones and threw me in a dumpster.” I was shocked because that’s not something you would normally hear from a two year old and what got me more was that she had never even heard the word dumpster before. So how could she know what that was or that bones could be broken, i mean she was just learning how to count to ten. I don’t know what to believe about that but even though my daughter is much older and doesn’t remember anymore, it still bothers me. As with dreams that bring out emotion and stay with me, I figured I would make that into a short story too. Here is a part of it.
Chelsea began having strange dreams that started on her sixteenth birthday. They were of a little boy that looked about eight or nine years old. He had a little trickle of blood that came down the side of his face and it seemed to come from a small fissure above his temple. He told her his name was Brandon and in her dreams, the two would always play at a beautiful park surrounded by trees and flowers, and there, next to a swing set was a picnic basket sitting in the middle of a quilted blanket. For weeks she had lucid dreams of nothing else but being at the park with Brandon and sometimes they would just talk.
One night, she decided to ask him what had happened to him and why was his head bleeding. A sadness came over Brandon’s face when he looked down and said, “My mommy, she pushed me down the stairs and then she put me in the trash can.” She was instantly taken to the top of a staircase and felt a hand push her from behind. Chelsea felt the pain of hitting each stair on the way down, then she was taken back to the park where she now understood what had happened to him. Feeling his anguish, she wanted to make him feel better so she smiled and grabbed his hand then said, “Hey, how about I push you on the swing for a little while.” His sorrow seemed to disappear and his smile that she had grown to love was back. When the sun would set there, in reality the sun was rising and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she awoke. “I’ll be waking up soon,” she told him, “but you know I’ll see you again.” He jumped off the swing, held her hand and looked up at her. “You are so nice Chelsea,” he said, “I want you to meet Hallie and Heather soon.” Becoming curious about them, she asked, “Oh really, are they your friends?” He replied, “They are my sisters.” Then he smiled again and wrapped his arms around her before stepping back and disappearing.
Chelsea awoke to mixed feelings about her dream. She was looking forward to meeting Brandon’s sisters but she was also very disturbed by what had happened to him. “Who could do something like that to their own kid?” she mumbled to herself.
The Lingering Scent
Just a short one today but It explains a little more on one of the characters in Heart Broken
A very handsome man named Aaron, had just returned home from a late night meeting for the local magazine he writes for. Like most others like him, he just wanted to have a snack and relax on his couch. As he entered the kitchen he caught a whiff a strange odor. It was a rancid stench that made him gag a bit. “What is that?” he asked himself, “And where the hell is it coming from?” He tried to keep his apartment tidy because he never knew when guests would be coming over and was just a clean person in general. With this foul smell, this emanating stink coming from the kitchen, who know what they would think. His first reaction was to check the sink. There were no dishes in it so he put his nose close to the drain to see if that was the cause of the offending odor, but there was nothing. He then moved over to the refrigerator to see if maybe something had gone bad or somehow fell out. He opened the door and sniffed around, inspecting every empty shelf for some kind of smelly residue, but again there was nothing. He even went so far as to move the refrigerator to see if maybe something fell under or behind it without him knowing, nevertheless it was spotless. A thought occurred to him, maybe some smelly man broke in to the apartment and was waiting for his chance to strike. He checked every room, every nook and cranny, any place that could possibly conceal a body. He checked behind the shower curtain, under the bed and even his closet but the smell, that horrible smell was coming from the kitchen. He returned there to investigate further, looking under the counter and table, in the cupboards and cabinets but they were all immaculate. The only place left to check was the oven. “No it can’t be,” he said to himself, “I haven’t used the oven in weeks.” Aaron crept over to the oven wrapping his fingers around the handle, slowly pulling the door down. “Well,” he told himself, “It’s not coming from here.” Then he pulled the door all the way down and the rancid smell filled his nostrils. His mouth filled with bile as tiny roaches scattered off of a woman’s putrid head sitting atop one of the oven-racks. Aaron ran to the living room to collect himself and when he finally caught his breath, his phone rang. “Hello?” he answered. It was an old friend of his that seemed to notice he was breathing heavy, “What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.” Aaron replied, “Roaches, oven, head! I must have forgotten a head in the oven and now I have these filthy little disgusting roaches running around my apartment! ….Oh, you want me to meet this girl at The Written….Amy … Sure, I’m free. I’ll be there soon.”
Singing Thoughts
My name is Kevin Holt and hopefully I have found a way to die before this is read. I have no idea what I am but it must have something to do with my father, whoever he is or was. I can’t be around people, I can’t lead a normal life and I can’t die. My thoughts are dangerous and I just can’t seem to control them. The first incident that I can remember, happened when I was in high school. My writing teacher said I didn’t have an imagination and the first thought that came to mind was her breaking her leg. She tripped on the chair right in front of me and ended up with a compound fracture, she almost lost her leg. How’s that for imagination. She had it easy if you ask me, I never saw her again because she had to take medical leave and school would be out by the time she returned. I started to notice bad things happening to the people around me that just couldn’t be explained. I remember this one kid bumped into me then shoved me while we were walking down the stairs, like it was my fault. He was an asshole but still, I had never seen someone’s spine come out of their neck like that. And that was the problem, that’s what I was thinking when he fell down the stairs. The poor kid died instantly.
Things started getting weirder, like on the last day of school. I loved science, but not my teacher. Before the last bell rang he decided to do a little sendoff experiment that involved some kind of flammable soap bubbles. It might have turned out alright except he had to throw my name in there saying I could never be as bright as the flaming bubbles he had created. Well, needless to say, the students were sent off traumatized. The teacher caught on fire and his head inexplicably popped like one of the bubbles and showered the student in the front of the class with little burning chunks of Mr. Chambers. I know it’s bad but I still think that was kind of funny, well now that I’ve been desensitized to all this. Things got worse when two of my friends came over. We were talking about video games on minute and the next, a blue light passed through my room and splattered them against the wall. What was left of them was comparable to what you might find in a chum bucket. When the cops came, they had scoop them up into little Jake and Erick soup baggies. That’s when the real trouble for me began.
Of course I was taken in for questioning and they put me in this little white room without windows that had a camera up in the corner. They asked some pretty stupid questions like were we playing with explosives and planned on making a bomb or something. I got bored and imagined that the roof collapsed. The roof never came down but the officers that were in there were crushed by some kind of invisible force, it was terrifying to watch at the time. I can remember every snap, crackle and pop there bones made. I freaked out and ran home crying. My mom, she was great, she wasn’t worried that I just left a police station and had blood on me, no, she wanted to know why I was crying. When I tried to tell her, a random thought entered my mind, and my mother was cut in half. I panicked and tried to imagine her whole again but it wasn’t working, I even tried to push the pieces back together. The cops kicked down my door and they were pissed, they had their guns drawn and everything. The realization that I was the cause of all this got to me and I wanted to die. When I was ordered to lay on the ground, I instead lunged at them, figuring they were trigger happy thinking I somehow had the super strength it would take to crush the officers back at the station. I heard the loud bangs as they opened fire and welcome the rounds I took to the chest, but it wasn’t what I expected. They didn’t hurt as they entered my body, I felt the pressure but there was no burning, no stinging, no holy shit I have a big ass hole in my chest kind of pain. It was more like getting hit with a stream from a dollar store water gun. They looked at me like I was the devil, one of them screamed something and ran while the others kept barking orders at me. I don’t think they knew what the hell to do. They should have run off with the other guy because none of them made it. It started with a trickle of blood coming from their mouths, then led to coughing up gallons of blood. While they were coughing, a thought entered my mind, it was the saying, to cough up a lung. It was one of the grossest things I had ever witnessed. They started gagging then began to throw up random organs it seems. How the hell can you throw up your kidneys? I just wanted out of there before I started vomiting too. When I left the house I saw the officer that ran, hiding behind his car door with only his gun exposed. I had to start singing to keep my mind occupied long enough to get away from him, he survived by the way.
It became difficult to go shopping for food while I was on the run. One poor guy at a gas station sneezed and his head exploded, all I wanted was a microwave sandwich. I figured I deserved to starve to death and stopped eating for a while, again, nothing. I didn’t feel hunger anymore but missed the taste of food. I started thinking, this not being able to die thing just might have something to it. I made my way to the Grand Canyon and got to see sights that no one else has. When I was on the top of the canyon and wanted to see something at the bottom a little closer, I jumped. It felt great, for a while it felt like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, the rush, the thrill, without a doubt it was great. Then more and more tourists would show up and it became harder and harder to avoid them. Those around me took a vacation they never came back from. I remember I must have spent a whole month climbing then jumping, climbing then jumping, trying to punish myself for all that I have done.
The singing only helped so much but it was my thoughts that can’t be controlled. My only option was to go as far away from people as possible and I did just that. I moved to northern Canada where most couldn’t handle the cold and where I had no luck in freezing to death. On my way up there, I must have been hallucinating because I swear I saw zombies running around. I couldn’t be sure because as soon as they got close my thoughts ran wild and they were dog food. I don’t know how long I’ve been up here trying to isolate myself from the world, the sun rises and sets very differently way up here. I can’t tell from my reflection either because I stopped aging somewhere in my twenties. All I know is that I’ve been here for a very long time. It’s been getting warmer around here and I’ve been noticing houses being built in the woods where I stay. I do my best to avoid them but, they just keep popping up. Just the other day, I was exploring and there, at the edge of a cliff was an entire city. People are spreading out way too far for their own good so I decided to take a stroll through town and make sure my sanctuary stays preserved.
My Cursed World and it’s Doomed Characters
Just a few thoughts on finding out that I really do live in my own world.
I feel kind of bad for the people in the world I write about because eventually, they are all doomed. Their deaths and traumatizations could be adverted if they only knew what I knew or could look a few pages ahead, but they are just people I dreamed up so again, they’re doomed. A lot of the stories intertwine with each other, something I didn’t do on purpose, it just kind of came out that way. For example the man Harold, from Purrsia, came from the town of Staff. (Staff will be its own story soon) There Harold’s son was possessed by a watcher demon. He cut off his son’s head with the blue knife that left part of the demon behind and weak creating the demonic version of Darren in Without Eyes which took place in the town of Staff. The other part of the watcher demon stayed with the head of Harold’s son which he buried by a tree on what he thought was abandoned land with an empty farmhouse. That’s the farmhouse from The Moment Tree and it was the demon head that gave the tree it’s power. Staff is also mentioned in Chuck, a story that will only be in Darkened Beauty V1 #2 of my monthly short story collection. In Chuck, he and his dead friend Darrel are called out to the town of Staff but choose not to go once they see all the demonic activity going on from afar. Chuck also mentions Josh who is the lead in one of the books I’m working on. One of the more dangerous beings in my stories is TAH. He was created before there was light and in the world I write, the older, the stronger. He is VEE OU TAH’s husband in Viotta and MAK TAH’s creator in Cruel Young. The Dream Giver was introduced in Wish Four, he was one of the last created before light. He was also the one who gave Harlan the power he has in Bone Deep and will been seen more in the future. Another character worth mentioning is Karla ‘Kills’ Smith, she was in Without Eyes, constantly taking pictures but put the camera away to console her neighbor in Purrsia. Damon also has a very small part in Purrsia yelling “Fuck You” from across the street to Gabe for saying their music sucks. Now in Heart Broken, Aaron was offended when Amy asked if he was a vampire. This is because it my world, they are not handsome or beautiful. They are short and hairy, and sound like valley girls from the 80’s, I don’t know why, I just dreamed them like that. Well these valley girl vampires are revealed in Dark Dreams where they make a deal Larry in order to get fresh “unscrubbed” blood. The vampires will reappear again in a later story only they will be on Earth and not in the Void. I plan a return of the man with the bowler hat and his big ass demon dog creature thing that likes to eat people. Also in the works, Sean from Viotta will end up with ties to Harold and the town of Staff.
Cruel Young
Just a part of this story, the rest is part of Fate’s Darkened Beauty V1 #2
School can be a difficult time for some. Kids can and will be cruel to others but once school is over with and you’re out in the real world, none of the social life that once existed there matters any more. Annie Collins wasn’t one of the cool kids, she wasn’t popular and she didn’t have many friends. Actually she only had one, and she was moving away leaving Annie to face the popular kids by herself. As soon as she would get to school, her torment would begin with other kids knocking books out of her hands claiming it was an accident. Others would say she smelled bad and would pretend to gag, while others would just use her in there jokes. Annie learned to stay hidden and keep to herself for most of the time. She began to wear darker clothes and would often put her feeling down on paper rather than keep them bottled up inside her. She also fell in love with a cartoon called Taco the Rabbit’s Horrible Life. It was about a poorly drawn rabbit who just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Annie love Taco the Rabbit because no matter how bad her day would be, his day was always worse and his character would always make her laugh.
She had gotten a plush toy of him for her birthday over the summer and would always keep him in her backpack at school to remind her that things can always be worse. Sometimes, during lunch, she would pull him out and pretend that he was real to make up for her one friend that moved away. She learned very quickly not to talk to him out loud and draw attention because the popular girls could use that as another excuse to torture her. One day during lunch, Gracie Dice who was the worst of the popular girls, walked by and kicked Taco the Rabbit into some mud saying, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see your stinky little friend there.” Gracie and her friends just laughed as she pushed Annie into the mud too while she was trying to retrieve Taco. “Oops!” Gracie said snickering, “Sorry again!” Annie tried not to cry, she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got the best of her. She kept her chin up, wiped the mud from her face and went to the restroom to clean herself and Taco up.
She place Taco in the sink and turned on the water. Shedding as little tears as possible, she washed him off then placed on the counter to dry while she washed off her own face. Annie was startled when she heard a very polite monotone voice say, “That was rude of them wasn’t it?” She slowly removed her hands from her face to see her Taco plush shaking off the water like a dog. She slammed her back against the wall in fright saying, “Oh my fucking god, he’s talking to me. You’ve lost it this time Annie, you have completely lost your mind.” Taco hopped off of the counter and said, “You haven’t lost your mind Miss Annie, I’m quite real.” Still frightened she said, “Why the hell are you talking to me, you’re just a stuffed toy.” “Well,” he spoke as he approached her, “You can think of me as a familiar of sorts. My name is MAK TAH, it means servant of…, well for now, you.” Her fear began to subside when she said, “That’s cool, just give a minute to calm down here. So I have my very own talking Taco the Rabbit? Can I just call you Taco for now? You know, just until I get used to you.” “I don’t see this as being a problem Miss Annie,” he said, “I can see into people’s thoughts and this is the form you would be most comfortable seeing me in. I am here to help and serve you.” She excitedly shouted, “Awesome! I have a real Taco the Rabbit!” He touched her hand saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up now shall we.” All the mud that once covered her was instantly gone. “Come on now,” he said, “put me in your backpack and let’s get you to your next class.”
On her way to class, she couldn’t help but smile about what had just happened. While being lost and excited in her own thoughts, she didn’t see the group of girls heading towards her. Gracie slammed her shoulder in to Annie sending her flying to the floor. She looked down at Annie and with her hand over her mouth she said, “Oops again, I’m so clumsy today.” Then her sinister smile disappeared when she noticed that Annie was no longer covered in mud. “Well,” she said sounding as snobby as she was, “You seemed to have cleaned up nicely, but you’re still an ugly little bitch.” They put their noses in the air and walked around her. As she got back to her feet, one of the girls, Cindy, knocked the books out of her hands saying, “And you still smell too,” then she scoffed before joining the others. Annie collected her books and just under her breath, with her teeth clinched tight to fight off the tears, she said, “I fucking hate you all.” Then she hung her head and made her way to her next classroom.
When the final bell rang, she became excited. Not because she could go home and watch the show that always made her feel better but because she could play with the actual character she had hidden in her backpack. Upon her return home, she opened her backpack and placed him on her bed. “Well now,” he said, “that was quite uncomfortable. Let’s get to it shall we.” She turned her head to side and asked, “Get to what Taco?” “To planning your revenge to get back at them Miss Annie,” he said, “That is why I’m here, to help you.” “Ok, I’m in. Now how do we do this” she said eager to hear the plan. He walked over and sat next to her saying, “I can get in to peoples thoughts, like I did yours. I can see what they fear most and we can use that against them. From what I’ve seen, most fears come from something that happen during childhood. Take Cindy for example, the girl who knocked the books out of your hands, she is terrified of ants. She once fell into a large pile when she was seven and froze out of fear, they tore her up quite a bit before anyone got to her. We can use that against her.” “Ooh,” she said with wide eyes and delight, “We can lead a trail of ants into her room so when she wakes up she will see them crawling everywhere.” “Yes Miss Annie, something like that.” Later that night, Annie and Taco when to Cindy’s house and began leaving crumbs of food leading from an ant pile in the yard to a tiny crack in her window. When everything was in place, Annie kicked the ant pile and ran home. “Oh my god!” she said smiling, “I can’t believe we did it! She is going to be so scared when she wakes up, she’ll probably pee herself. I wish I could see her face when it happens.” Back at Annie’s house, as excited as she was, it was getting late and she was getting tired. She made her bed and set up a place next to her pillow for Taco. “Goodnight Taco,” she said, “you made today awesome.” After about an hour, Taco made sure she was asleep then slipped out of the house.
Morning arrived and a groggy Cindy began to wake. She felt a slight pain in her right foot, only enough to make her wiggle her toes. “That’s weird,” she thought to herself, “my toes are numb”. She paid it no attention until she removed her blanket. She was in such a shock that she couldn’t even scream, just a deep tone sounded at the end of every exhale. Half of her foot was missing and there was very thin layer of a clear plastic like membrane covering the wound. Where her big toe should have been, was an ant trail leading inside of her foot. The pain began to set, she could feel them crawling inside her leg as far up as her thigh. Still she could not scream. Cindy finally passed out when she saw the ants carrying eggs into her body. Her mother found her and called for an ambulance, when they got to the hospital, she was in and out of sleep from the combination of shock and the drugs the doctors had her on. Cindy could hear her mother arguing with the doctor. “Look you son of bitch,” her mother said, “You better save her leg. You have any idea how important we are to this town.” “Yes ma’am, I’m sorry,” the doctor said groveling, “But the ants have blocked up and destroyed the blood supply to her leg. All of the tissue is dead or will be before we could even operate on her. There was a queen already laying new eggs in there, the leg has to come off.” “Fine! Take the leg! How could this have even happened?” “I don’t know ma’am,” he replied, “The tunnels they built should have taken them days, not to mention there was no blood loss. I don’t even think it’s possible. And there’s something else.” “Oh what now!” exclaimed the mother. “These ants had some sort of bacteria on them that has entered Cindy’s blood stream. We have her on antibiotics but, well, even if with amputation of the leg, there’s a strong chance she might not make it.” Cindy pass out again.
Annie went to school with her head held high and a big grin on her face in anticipation of seeing Cindy’s reaction to the prank, …..
Purrsia
Angela was a very warmhearted person, so it was no surprise to how sympathetic she was when she saw an injured cat on her lawn. She took the cat inside, cleaned him up and made a bed for him. She even made a trip to the store to buy cat food, treats and a litter box. The long-haired gray cat purred loudly when she entered the door as if he knew he would be well taken care of. She put some canned food into a dish for him and watched him eat for a while, wondering what had happened to this poor cat. He was limping but his leg didn’t seem to be broken and before she cleaned him up, some of his fur was encrusted with dried blood although she never found any cuts or open wounds on him. When the cat finished eating, he jumped on her lap and began purring very loud as she stroked his fur. “You need a name little guy,” she said, “I think I’ll call you Purrsia because you purr so much.” As if to acknowledge the name, he looked at Angela and closed his eyes for a moment.
When her boyfriend, Nick and his friend Gabe, arrived home, they immediately took notice of the cat. “Um, what is that?” Nick asked her. She smile and replied, “It’s my new cat, his name is Purrsia! Please can I keep him, I found him outside hurt so I brought him in. He won’t be any trouble I promise.” Nick gave her an unsure look then said, “Well, I guess it’s alright as long as he doesn’t jump on the table or shelves or anything. And don’t expect me to clean up after it, me and Gabe do enough at work already.” She excitedly clapped her hands and shouted, “Yay! Did you hear that kitty? You get to stay!”
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door and Angela answered. It was an older man with wild looking gray hair who had papers in his hand. “Can I help you?” she asked him. His smile revealed stained, yellow teeth then he spoke, “Yes, you see I’m looking for my cat.” He then handed her a flyer and continued, “He has long gray fur and a very bad temper. He might have been hurt. Have you seen him?” She grew a little concerned feeling that he was talking about Purrsia but the cat didn’t seem to have a bad temper, though he was hurt when she found him. Before she was going to reveal she had found him she wanted to be sure so she asked him, “Well, do you know how he could have gotten hurt?” “Why yes of course,” he replied still smiling, “I tried to kill him.” She was shocked by his answer. “Wait, what!? Why would you? No, you know what. Your sick and if you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police!” she said, then slammed the door and locked it. Nick and Gabe went to see what the commotion was all about. “What happened, who was that?” Nick asked. Flustered, she said, “It was no one, just some creepy old asshole that said he wants to kill Purrsia.” Gabe was confused but always looking for a fight so he ran outside to start an argument with the man but he was gone. Continue reading
Trusting Heart
I write horror but to me, the scariest thing to me is love.
MAN: To you my love I bring a gift.
WOMAN: Oh, what gift would that be?
He presented her with his heart balanced on the tip of a knife.
MAN: I bring you my heart and dagger. If you don’t care for it, it will slip and be pierced by the knife. If you mistreat it, it will lose balance, fall and break. If you neglect it, it will become weak, stop beating and fall apart. What happens to my heart happens to me so I give it only to you.
WOMAN: Why my love, would you gift this to me?
MAN: Because I trust you.
The Silent Walk
Jennifer, Brian and Stacey were walking to a friend’s house after a night of clubbing. There was supposed to be an after-hours party going on and all of their friends were going to be there. Becky’s house wasn’t too far from the club they were at so they all decided to walk to the party. While they were walking, they were reminiscing about what happened that night, talking about who they saw, who they didn’t want to see and discussing which rumors they thought were true. Then out of nowhere, Brian jumped in front of the girls to shield them. “Oh my god Brian,” a puzzled Stacey said, “What the hell are you doing?” Brian was confused because he knows he saw something and said, “I swear I saw this…this, I don’t know, this dog in the corner of my eye.” Jennifer being very sarcastic said, “Wow, really? Thank you! Oh wait, there is no dog. You doing alright Brian, because you had a lot to drink and we don’t need you acting like an ass at Becky’s party.” Feeling a little embarrassed but still trying to defend himself he said, “Hey, at least if there was a dog, you know I would jump in front of it for you.” They all just laughed and continued walking.
After a few minutes, there was a very quick flash of light. “Brian? What was that?” a worried Stacey asked. “Um, I don’t know,” he replied, “maybe lightning. Who knows?” Jennifer happened to blink at that moment so she didn’t get to see what Brian and Stacey were talking about. “Did I just miss something? What are you guys talking about?” “Jennifer!?” she cried out, “Don’t tell me you didn’t see that bright light. How could you not see that?” She just shrugged her shoulders saying, “Whatever, it was probably a street light blinking or something, doesn’t matter. Let’s get to the party! Whoo!” While walking, they all started to notice that it was very quiet. There were no cars driving, no other people walking and there was no wind. It was so quiet they could hear themselves breathe. Brian was the first to bring it up, “Hey, have you guys noticed how quiet it is? It’s kinda creepy.” Jennifer chucked before she said, “Yeah, so don’t fart Brian.” He shot her with a mean look while Stacey agreed with how quiet it was. “Jen, this is kind of creepy. I can’t even hear the wind, let alone feel it. Maybe it has something to do with the flash.” “See!” Brian said feeling full of himself, “I told you it was lightning. It’s always quiet before a storm.” They began to believe that it could be possible until they heard the growling coming from behind them.
They slowly turned around to see what looked like a large dog snarling at them from the shadows. “Um, Brian,” Jennifer said trembling, “Is that the dog you were talking about? Because I would really like it if you got in front of me again.” As soon as she finished talking, the dog bolted towards them. They turned and ran as fast as they could and they kept hearing the dog’s nails clacking on the sidewalk, getting closer and closer. They turned into a blind alley hoping to escape only to find it was fenced off, they were trapped. Stacey began to climb the fence hoping she could get out of the dogs reach and the others followed. When they got up as high as they could the panic they felt dissipated while the fear remained, the dog was no longer there. “Shit! Brian!” Stacey shouted, “Is it gone!? Is the dog gone Brian?” Out of breath, he replied, “How the fuck should I know? I don’t hear it if that’s what you mean.” One by one, they slowly climbed off the chain link fence looking around, hoping their eyes wouldn’t meet with the dog’s. Brian crept through the alley towards the street leaving the girls behind in case the dog showed up again. As if he wasn’t scared enough, when he neared the entrance to the alley, he heard someone whistle a creepy sharp tune. Continue reading
The Moment Tree
Erica and her son, Ethan, had just moved in to an old farm house after the loss of her husband. The house belonged to her close friend, Sara, that had no use for it and rather than just let it sit there, she let Erica move in. Her heart weighed her down as she unpacked, thinking of how unprepared they were for any kind of tragedy. When the first set of bills came in after Mark’s death, she didn’t know what to do. They had no life insurance and no savings, so she would put the bills on the kitchen table and hoped they would just disappear. Eventually, her only choice was to sell their house.
Everything she took out of the boxes brought back memories of Mark, so some things just never got unpacked. One day while she was searching for a job on her computer, Ethan went to her begging for the toy he had just seen on a commercial. “Mommy, mommy” he said tugging on her sleeve, “I want the new Gojijo Man toy. Can I have it please mommy, please.” In a very consoling voice she said to him, “I’m sorry baby but we just can’t afford it right now.” Ethan gave her the saddest face he could conjure up hoping that she would change her mind. He was still very young and didn’t have much of an understanding of how money works yet. She felt so bad that she couldn’t get him the toy so she made a deal with him, “I’ll tell you what, if you let mommy look for a job, then as soon as I get one we will go to the store and get you the new Gojijo Man. Does that sound ok to you?” He smiled wide and did his little happy dance. “I’ll take that as a yes, for now you can go play outside, ok baby,” she said before continuing her job search.
Erica and her son, Ethan, had just moved in to an old farm house after the loss of her husband. The house belonged to her close friend, Sara, that had no use for it and rather than just let it sit there, she let Erica move in. Her heart weighed her down as she unpacked, thinking of how unprepared they were for any kind of tragedy. When the first set of bills came in after Mark’s death, she didn’t know what to do. They had no life insurance and no savings, so she would put the bills on the kitchen table and hoped they would just disappear. Eventually, her only choice was to sell their house.
Everything she took out of the boxes brought back memories of Mark, so some things just never got unpacked. One day while she was searching for a job on her computer, Ethan went to her begging for the toy he had just seen on a commercial. “Mommy, mommy” he said tugging on her sleeve, “I want the new Gojijo Man toy. Can I have it please mommy, please.” In a very consoling voice she said to him, “I’m sorry baby but we just can’t afford it right now.” Ethan gave her the saddest face he could conjure up hoping that she would change her mind. He was still very young and didn’t have much of an understanding of how money works yet. She felt so bad that she couldn’t get him the toy so she made a deal with him, “I’ll tell you what, if you let mommy look for a job, then as soon as I get one we will go to the store and get you the new Gojijo Man. Does that sound ok to you?” He smiled wide and did his little happy dance. “I’ll take that as a yes, for now you can go play outside, ok baby,” she said before continuing her job search.
While Ethan was outside, he tried to find ways to entertain himself. He dug a hole and threw rocks at an ant pile, then he saw the perfect tree for climbing. Towards the bottom of the tree, there was a big dark knot and branches that led all the way up like a ladder. He climbed the tree and pretended he was Gojijo Man’s sidekick fighting off evil monsters and saving the world. Then he slipped and fell out of the tree landing on his knees. He gave the tree a mean look and rolled up one of his pant legs to inspect his knee for any cuts or bruises. He had some blood that formed around a small cut but it was nothing too bad. He wiped the blood off his knee and smeared it on the knot of the tree then ran inside. After finding a bandage for his scrape, he decided that playing inside would be much safer and he played until it was time for bed.
The next morning when Ethan woke up, to his surprise, there next to his bed was a brand new Gojijo Man still in the box. He jumped up and did his happy dance then took it down the stairs to play with it. Erica was awakened by Ethan stomping around the living room screaming about killing monsters. She smiled when she saw him be cause he hadn’t been that happy since his father died. “What are you doing Ethan? You look so happy this morning.” He ran over to her, toy in hand, gave her a big hug and said, “Oh thank you thank you thank you mommy. You’re the best mommy ever.” She giggled and ask, “Oh really, and why is that, baby?” He held up his new toy and said, “Because you got me Gojijo Man!” Ethan spread the toy’s wings and began flying it around the room. Erica was confused and puzzled with a hint of concern because she knew she didn’t buy him that toy. Continue reading
Without Eyes
A horror rock band by the name of Drowning Glory, set out on their first tour. They weren’t very well known yet but had already put out a few albums at their own cost and were gaining popularity. Darren ‘Hells’ and Matt Ryder were brothers that started the band in high school, they played lead and bass. Their close friend Damon, who at times went as ‘Demon’, took interest in the band and started singing for them. When they found a drummer, John ‘Murders’ Wheeler, they began to play shows and picked up a good following. It wasn’t until they brought in Jared Burns on rhythm and Karla ‘Kills’ Smith with keyboard and backing vocals that they really took off. The six of them maxed out credit cards and emptied their savings to buy an old school bus to go on tour with the determination of getting their music out to the world.
In the middle of their tour, their path led them through a mid-west town by the name of Staff. The town was small and the buildings seemed to have been very old. Something struck them as very odd; there were cars around but no people. Right away Damon exclaimed, “This town is so damn creepy, we’re staying here tonight.” Of course, as they were fans of all things creepy and morbid, they all agreed.
As they pulled up in front of an old inn and entered, Karla grabbed her camera and started snapping pictures. The inn looked like it was an old mansion at one point in time and had paintings of the original owners hanging up. It had many rooms and the wall panels and doors were all crafted out of a hardwood. “Look at this place!” Karla said with such enthusiasm as she continued taking photos, “I bet this place is haunted!” When they reached the front desk, they noticed it was covered in a fine layer of dust and had cobwebs hanging off the pen to sign the guest book with. Repeatedly ringing the bell, Damon called out, “Hello? Anybody here? Hey! We need a room! You bastards, there’s no one here guys.” “But there’s got to be someone around, I mean the place just can’t be empty, can it?” Jared said with a slight concern. Darren smiled and jumped over the counter. He then grabbed some room keys and handed them out saying in horrible spooky voice, “Here are your room keys. Please, enjoy your stay. Oh, and be very careful my friends, this place is known to be haunted.” He trailed it off with a creepy laugh then signed his name on the dusty guest book before jumping back over the front desk to join his band mates in getting settled in. Continue reading
j.r.fate 