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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.

In Darkness Hides

Have you ever been alone in the dark, I mean really alone with no one in the house but you? Are you afraid because you are alone? Or is it because you can’t see what’s in the shadows? Monsters, snakes, an escaped lunatic, anything could be hiding in the darkest of shadows and you would never know, just watching and waiting. The fear becomes terror when you know what’s hiding there, just toying with you, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out at you.

Some say it was mass hysteria while others simply refuse to believe it, as if it never happened. Others just don’t talk about it, but it did happen and it will happen again. All we can do is be prepared and never forget. It started with a series of earthquakes throughout the night, everyone on Earth had to have felt them. They were nothing major but they were big enough to get your attention. I remember I had just woken up my daughter so she could get ready for school when a larger earthquake hit. After checking up on her, I ran outside to see if it caused any major damage to the house or neighborhood. Something was different. I noticed the sun was not rising, like it wasn’t there. I ran back inside to look at the clock and it was around 7:00 AM. This time of year the sun should have been at least brightening the sky in the east.
“What the hell? I must be dreaming.”
Then my world went black.
When I came to, it was hard to breathe and I could hardly move. For three days I was stuck to the floor, the only way I could tell was by the old grandfather clock we had sitting in the corner of the room. I didn’t know what exactly had happened or how but the gravity I felt on my body was immense, not normal. It seemed maybe ten times what it should be, I can’t be sure. All I knew for sure was that I was pinned to the floor and getting up was not an option. The sun was not rising and setting as usual, it started to set at about eleven AM. I also remember the sun would set though the picture window in the front of the house where as now, it would rise. The first day everything felt like a dream. I was disoriented and dizzy, in and out of sleep. It was very quiet and from what i could tell there was no electricity, the only sound I heard was that of my lungs gasping for air. I tried to move but nothing happened, my body squirmed a little so I knew I wasn’t paralyzed. I tried to figure out what was happening but my mind kept drifting away from the subject and nothing made sense. It was as if this was all some strange dream or nightmare. It didn’t really matter because it’s not like I could have done anything about it anyway.
By the next day the storms came in. I could hear trees falling and branches snapping but the wind didn’t sound that strong. Every drop of rain seemed to pound on the roof as if it were raining small rocks. I was still constantly drifting in and out of consciousness when a large tree from the neighbor’s yard, crashed into the garage and woke me. I tried to move again but the weight was still too much for me. I began to wonder if this was happening everywhere and at the time I just couldn’t comprehend that with the Earth being in a new position, it indeed affected the entire planet. My mouth was drying out and I remember wishing I had water when a strong wind pushed through the crack in the glass on the picture window. The glass shattered and the pieces nailed themselves into the hard wood floor. It scared me so much that I lost control of my bladder. With the added weight, that glass could have killed me. All I wanted to do was sleep.

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.

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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.

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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.

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.