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Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-02 03:29:48
Once every century passed a darkness falls over the sleepy village of Despair. The streets are empty, much like the once-booming businesses that left this decaying town, leaving only dead memories in their wake. Shutters slam, the street lights cast twisted shadows that seem to beckon the innocent. Nobody goes outside on this night. Even the most brave men tremble on this night. Everybody is inside, but nobody is safe. At least we don't feel safe. We all know the stories. We were raised hearing about when this town was prosperous. Gold in the hills, clean water in the wells, vast forests of trees that seemingly went on forever...I know nothing of that life but what was told to me by my grandfather's father. The trees remain, rotten and lifeless; a ghastly reminder of what once was. A reflection of what is. There is no sound, only your own heartbeat and breath. The wells have been dried up since I was a kid, or so I'm told. They say there was something in those hills...the prospectors found something they shouldn't have. Something ancient. Something evil. A presence, a dark knowledge that was waiting to be stumbled upon. To be awoken from its hundred-year slumber. Its been man's fate to wake the beast. Every century a man is compelled to unleash the darkness. Suffering, sickness, rape, and murder purge the town into ravenous frenzy. Blood flows in the street, loved ones cry out with their final breaths. Our numbers our dwindling, but we hatched a solution before this dreaded night fell upon us. We knew what we had to do. We had to kill all the men: our fathers, our brothers, our sons. We had to stop the destructivity of man's weaknesses. Surely our sacrifice will appease the shadows. How can man wake it if there are no men to do so? So we killed them, with tears running down our faces we dropped our boys down the dried up wells. Our husbands and brothers were picked off one by one with their own pickaxes. Our fathers burned alive in the dry atmosphere of crackling embers. We had to do this, it was the only way to save us. Please, give us peace through this night. Please, don't let the shadows take us. Please, spare us for our sacrifice. Please, don't punish us for man's misdeeds...
I call this one Feminist Fantasies.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-05 00:00:14
As I laid down my bed, I felt a cold breeze that made me shudder. As I shifted my position, I shuddered again, but there is no breeze. I was looking straight at the closed window beside me. With the curtains tied, I became aware of the possibility of my neighbor seeing me sleeping- again, because it already happened once, or maybe twice. Who am I kidding; it already happened a lot of times. It’s just weird though, I remember closing the curtains whenever I go to sleep. But then, whenever I wake up, it’s just open. I sat up to close the curtains, and was shocked with what I saw. My reflection is missing! I quickly closed the curtain. Is it happening again? It’s a good thing Halloween is near. Maybe I can... No. I promised myself I would never do that again. Once was enough.
“I will not do it again,” I whispered to myself.
I laid down my bed and tried to sleep peacefully, but me being me, that’s just not possible. My sleep is always filled with horrifying nightmares- if you can even call them sleep, that is. How will I explain this... Right! Maybe I should start from the beginning, which happened even before I was born.
I was an illegitimate child, a child that was the result of a sin. My father is a warlock while my mother is half-angel and half human. Crazy, right? My father’s wife is a witch (obviously), and she found out about the affair. So she cursed my mom, not thinking about the child my mom was carrying (which was me), and I was the result of their craziness. I’m an unknown. I don’t belong to any of the inhuman breeds (and the list is like A LOT).
My name is Min Taejin. I’m 17 years old, currently at my senior year of high school. I seem like a normal student, but I’m anything but that. My reflection always disappears whenever I don’t do something sinful- or bad in simple terms. The worse the deed, the longer my reflection stays with me.
Why do I need my reflection? It’s tied to my existence. People start forgetting me whenever my reflection is gone. It’s like I disappear whenever it’s gone.
At first, I only lied about stuff, but the last times, I did really horrible things. Really horrible to the point that my reflection lasted almost 4 years with me. I murdered beings. Humans are a dying breed so I know if I kill one, it’ll last me more years, but I don’t want to do that again. But I don’t want to disappear either. I don’t want to be forgotten.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked myself.
A shadow slinked its way towards me. I just stared at it as it took form at the foot of my bed.
“Min Taejin,” it stated in a deep voice- voice so deep you feel like you’re buried underground with him.
“Yes?” I said as I sat up.
“Daughter of Min Jaehyun, a warlock, and Louise Antionette Summit, a half-angel.”
“Turned 17 last August 23.”
“Yes.” I answered, my expression hardening. This shadow is starting to piss me off.
“You have been summoned.” Finally he ended stating facts about me.
“Summoned by who?” I asked.
“By the one who can lengthen your existence.”
“Witch Thalka? If it’s her, I’m not going,” I know only the wife of my father is the only one who can break the spell, but I not involving myself to her. I’ve already been damaged enough.
“No, young one,” The shadow answered. “You have been summoned by the Devil himself. He’s taken an interest in you, child. Now, come. We must hurry.”
“By the Lord Demon? You’re taking me to him? FYI, I have angel blood, remember? I’ll die if I go to hell.” I said, rambling because I’m freaking out.
The Devil, the Lord Demon, Death, God – whatever you want to call him- has taken interest in me, a child, born out of sin, cursed, and fading away.
“Do not fret, little miss. Your blood is tainted. You will not die in entering hell.”
“Tainted?” I scoffed. Of course, I’m tainted. I freaking killed somebody!!!
I stood up and put on more decent clothes. I was about to grab my shoe when the shadow suddenly stood in front of me.
“We must go now, young miss.”
“My shoe-,” I started saying only to be cut off.
“Is not needed. Now take out your wings so we can go,” He said.
It’s been years since I last took my wings out. I never liked the pure white color of it for it looked even purer than those of the pure angels’. I hate it, looking so pure, but being anything but that.
I took them out, the whiteness took out the shadows’ breath momentarily.
“Hold onto me, and I’ll lead,” he said.
I held onto his sleeve, not letting go even when the air around us seems hell-bent on pulling us apart. We soared through the night, him floating and me flying. Then, out of nowhere, a portal opened before us, pulling us into hell. As we passed through the portal, I suddenly felt cold. Hell is one cold place, filled with fire. The fire though, won’t warm you up. You won’t feel heat radiating from it, only when you touch it. But, then, it’ll burn you. It is pretty, though. Everything is aesthetically beautiful but void of life.
“We’re here now, young one. Just walk straight ahead and you’ll see him,” The shadow told me before disappearing.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath then started walking. Not even five steps and I saw this eerily handsome face of the Lord Demon.
“Min Taejin, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“It was said that you can lengthen my existence?” I asked him.
“No beating around the bush, I see,” he mused. “Yes, I can. But not without something in return.”
“Serving the Lord Demon is the highest crime an angel-blood can commit,” I stated, slowly realizing the gravity of the situation.
“It is not a crime to serve the one who can help you,” he said while chuckling. “Your brethren never helped you, even when they heard about your situation. Instead, they shunned you, as if it is your fault for being the result of the sin between your mother and father.”
“You’ve been watching me,” I said. “Why?”
“You are special, maiori. You’re different- unique.”
“Look at your reflection and see.”
And that is when I noticed my reflection holding a knife behind me.
“I am not just a reflection, Taejin. I’m your twin trapped in your existence. And I need to kill you to be free.” She said.
That’s the last thing I heard before she plunged the knife in my chest.
But I kept thinking, before blacking out.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-05 17:20:59
At 8/29/17 03:56 PM, TomFulp wrote: This thread is for creepy / scary / Halloween-themed stories that would like to participate in our Halloween Spooktacular!
:ai Entries must be posted by October 31st and the best piece will receive $100. Judging will be by @Fro!
Any comments and/or questions should be posted in the comments thread.
Mr Mail own his vegetable farm. He was able to grow good greens because of his scarecrow. He built it himself and made it as scary as possible.The scariest thing about the scarecrow was its head which was made of a huge earthen pot. The scarecrow face was so ugly and scary that even he was scared to look at it. It was very effective, scaring away every bird from trying to eat the vegetables. Man and Lan were jealous of Mr Mail's success. Friday night, They stole his scarecrow and put it in their house. Man and Lan had trouble sleeping. They could not get the image of the scarecrow's horrible face out of their minds. Man took out the scarecrow and smashed its head with a hoe and buried it in their lawn. At midnight, they heard scratching and clawing sounds at their door. The door opened and Man and Lan saw the scarecrow without its head. They looked in horror as the headless scarecrow's body come in. It caught Lan's neck. Lan shouted for help but Man had already made his way onto the moonlit road. Man kept running. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw the scarecrow chasing after him. He notice that the scarecrow had a new head and its looked like Lan's head. The scarecrow caught Man and smashed Man's head with a hoe. Both of them died.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-08 11:05:07
My Helloween Contest story (probebly part 1) :
His arms are tied, his feet are tied. his eyes are twitching like he has a terrible nightmare right now. i put my hand slowly on his head. he is not awake right now but that will come soon. i smile because the thoughts going trough my head are so awefull it makes my skin crawl. i turn his head slightly to the right and see how his beautiful face glows in the light. i put a nail on his cheek and slowly scratch my nail down to his chin.
i let his head go and he goes into a sleeping position on the chair. of course he is stuck so he looks a bit goofy like if your sleeping in a car without leaning against something. i turn around and see the washing machine, of course i wouldn't use it for that but for something else. of course i leave it alone and walk to a small table that is near the wall. there is a silver plate on the table. most people could use it for cookies or put a vace on it or something but me i use it for something much more interesting. there are all kind of sharp objects on the table. i grab a little knife and play with it in my hand while walking up to the guy. I’m so curious how my new toys will work on my players.
‘'sweetheart wake up, it's time to play' i hide the knife behind my back and try to wake the guy up. He doesn’t wake up, he is probebly in a deepsleeper but with bit of pushing him around i find a way to wake him up. i grab a cup of a special drink i made for him. the smell is so strong and disgusting i can not even hold it close but if this is the only way it has to happen it has to be done. i slowly put the cup underneath his nose of the guy and after a couple seconds later he almost jumps out of his seat. luckly i tied him down so the only thing that happens is that he falls over. i giggle a bit and put his chair back in the position it was standing in.
'haha welcome back' the guy looks confused like he doesn't know what happend before. he looks around the room but there is not alot to see. the only thing he could see was the washing machine, a little table with my new favorite toys and in the middle of the room a table with 4 chairs around it. 'w...w...whe...where am i?' he almost can't speak because he is in shock but i love to answer it. 'aahhww you don't remember? what a pity, you made a promise remember. just like the other two' he looks confused and tries to look around if he can see if there are any other people. 'hahaha aaahww nonono they are not here they are upstairs sleeping, unfortuanally i couldn't bring them downstairs with you strugeling. You really where a fighter but you know you couldn’t win from me. there is alot more than just my pretty face, the first hour i could take you but you got annoying so i gave you some sleeping pills, and they worked well' he looks at me like i'm a ghost and did somthing horrible.
'why do you look so scared and angry i didn't do anything wrong you know, but in the next hour you will i'm sure' his eyes widen because he hears the most terrifying voice in his life. 'come come i'll set you down at the table and you can choose even witch side you can sit on' i smile at him and he still doesn't react on what i'm saying. 'hmm.... your not really a talker, that suprises me for how you treated the girls around the school... i gues some situations just make you weak right? hahaha aaahww poor you if you kept your promise this would have never happend' he looks at me confused like i said some riddle but i igore it and drag his chair to the table. i kick one chair away so i can put his chair in his place. 'you know i have to get the other two now okay? i expect you to stay right here and not move, do you understand?' he nods and i am glad he does. 'good you wouldn't want me to play with you first right? i would love to test some new sharp toys i got but it would be such a waste'
i pull a little staircase from the wall and walk upstairs. the guy seems like a f*ckboy but you will never know how he will do with gambeling. he loves to keep people under control but can he save his life with that or not. we will see. finally i come upstairs and walk towards the kitchen where a guy and a girl lay on the ground. i pull the guy over my shoulder and hold the girl in my arms. they are both very light what i didn't expect that but, it's a pleasant suprise. they came to visit an hour ago and they where the perfect mach to join my game so i gave them something to drink with the sleeping pill in it. the pill worked really fast and i could get myself prepaired, after all i'm the card master.
I drag the two down stairs and tie them both down to a chair. i walk around again to find the drink who woke up the first one. it wasn't long until both of them woke up, they where just as confused as the first one was but this time the girl started screaming. she was yough but she couldn't keep still so i needed to take some measures. i grabbed a peace of clothl and walked behind her chair.
i took the peace of cloth and tied her mouth shut. of course she tried to scream but it wasn't effective. 'you know little girl we are going to play a game. i'm sure you like games right?' she nods her head. 'hmm... i'm suprised. why are you screaming than? the walls are sound proof so nobody can hear you, so stop screaming!! or your the first one to lose some limbs okay' the girl imeaditly is quite and nods she didn't want that.
i walk back and look at the table all three are there and all my things are set up. now we can start the game. i'm so excited. 'welcome all of you, you probebly wonder why your here right? i can explain hihi. you made a promise somewhere with me and you broke it after getting 3 chances. you agreed you would play a deadly mach if you would break the promise and here we are. of course you don't remember how you got here and what your promise was but you'll get to know when your last letter dissapears'’ they all look shocked like i'm some crazy ring master but of course i'm not. i'm nuts but not crazy those are not the same thing right? hmm... doesn't matter. they did somthing and they agreed it's there fault that they ended up here.
i walk around the table and stop by one of the guys. ''hihihi your a pretty boy but will that save you?'' i start petting his head like he is a dog or car i own. ''so here are the rules, it's a simple game that a friend told me of. so here are the rules:’’
‘’the master will lay down 5 cards. On those cards are 5 symbols. A heart, cross, triangel, cirkel and one line. The master so me can lay the cards down in any order they want. I will lay the cards face down so you can’t see what order i placed them in. after i layed the cards down, you all choose your order to place the same cards in. you also will face them down. If everyone is done placing the cards face down i will first turn the cards upwards so you can see what order i put the cards in. i hope for you all that you will have the same order as me. if you have the most cards correct you win and if you have have less cards right than everyone else you lose and gain a letter of the word LOSER. This is the fun part though. If you gain a letter the winner will deside what part of you will be cut off. And the game ends when someone gets the full word LOSER. If that happends the two survivers deside how the loser will end up dead. It’s an easy and fun game to play don’t you think hihihi’’
All of there faces look terrified. Haha it’s so fun to see that face but it will be even more fun when the game starts so we have to start soon. I walk around and one by one i release a hand and put them to a chain. They are still stuck but now atleast they can place there cards and turn them if needed.
‘’good luck you will need it. i hope we have a wonderfull game but to find out we have to start playing hahaha’’ i give them all there 5 cards and now we can start. ‘’let the game begin’’
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-08 13:55:23
Sons of the Friday Thirteen
It began as a Party we were all supposed to go to, Jason wasn’t invited. How much truth is left of this story no one will ever know, except that it is true. The party never happened, but a war was started instead. It was mostly Jason’s Dad that was responsible for this havoc, we tried to cover it up, but that the war is still going on. Initially we all saw Friday Day the 13 as a Scary Movie, Now we see it as a Holy Day and a chance to apologize from all the lies and just tell the truth the best way we know how, sept that just it we don’t know how. We just know we want the terror to stop, and we want to be good Christians again.
Jason’s dad was a drug dealer in his childhood and his mom always loved Jesus. So the two were destine for divorce. Now Jason feels responsible and his parents never talked to him about it. A childhood of choas is what Jason lived, yet all growing up except for a few experiences of fooling around with playmates Jason never believed in sex. Note I do call them playmates because it is not a true girl friend unless you put a ring on there finger. Dawn was his first playmate and he only kissed her and touched her breast. Stephanie was the next and they kissed a lot and he fingered her once. After that Jason decieded if you have sex before you get married you die and goto hell.
Yet Jasons dad was so mean, he wanted to have a Friday the 13 Party for Jason. Alls Jason knew was that was a scary movie, and that’s why he began to hate his father. We could go into detail about this nightmare, but we’ve learned that somethings are just better left un said. To make a long story short Jason’s parents did get diviorced. And in a childhood of Boyscouts and Chaos. Jason Ran away to church.
If only I new how to write a horror story, this story might be scarier, but that just it, it’s not supposed to be scarey it’s supposed to be holy, and the fact that all people who are not mentioned in this story are the Sons of Friday the Thirteenth makes it so scary, but this is only how the story begins, and someone else might end it for us if we don’t find a happy ending soon.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-08 22:19:52
Don't Open the Door
It was late one Halloween night, you hear all those stories, you never believe them. You laugh.
I had just gotten done reading, Edgar Allan Poe A Tell Tale Heart, as I put the book down beside my chair on the end table, I heard a soft scratching at the front door.
I ignored it of course.
Leaned back and closed my eyes and then I heard scratching again. I thought to myself, 'I'm too far out for children and surely they would not come all this way out in the country to look for treats. It' can't be an animal, could it?' No.
So I relaxed, my eyes closed.
There it was again, the scratching! I sat up listen intently, waiting for it to happen again. And then I heard it, a soft voice "Let me in."
Shook my head. As I said, I was way too far out in the country for anyone just to be walking up and I didn't hear a car.
I stood, walk to the hallway, and looked down the hall and out the window of the front door. I could see no one. So I turned to head back to my chair and my glass of warm cocoa! And there it was again! Scratching and then a soft female voice saying "Let me in."
I charged down the hallway, threw open the front door and stepped out onto my porch.
But there was no one there. I look down the road of my drive and in the yard but there was no one. What the hell was happening to me, have I lost my mind?
I slowly made my way back in, closing the door and locked it.
'It was probably the book, Poe is always so vivid, he could turn a phrase. That was it! It was just my imagination.'
I finished my cocoa in one swallow and took the mug into the kitchen and put it in the sink.
I headed upstairs. Tired of the day and tired of the nonsense.
I heard a scratching on the bottom step as I was climbing, I turned, looking. Nothing! There was nothing. I continued to climb. As I got to my doorway I heard scratching at the top of the steps. Once again turning to look and still nothing.
I was at this point uneasy. I felt silly as I threw myself into my room and slamming the door. I got undressed, changed into my nightie and got into bed,
'I am a grown adult', I was going to put this behind me. It was just a book and a vivid imagination!
I plumped my pillow, turned out my light and pull the covers up and snuggled into my soft warm bed. And then I heard it. Scratching, scratching under my bed.
'Maybe it was a cat, a cat had sneaked in when I opened the front door, it must have followed me up the stairs and slid into my room without my seeing.
'Yes yes that was that's it. It's not like the cat could hurt me.'
I brushed it off and rolled over. I started to dreamily fall asleep, then was shocked awake. I felt something, something on the bed!
'Had the cat got onto the bed?' I kicked my feet to kick it down, to kick it away. There was nothing, no movement no pressure. I forced myself to shake it off. 'There is nothing there!'
I rolled over close my eyes and then I felt it again something was crawling across the bed towards me. I rolled over and looked in the dark and saw nothing. It was on my leg! What is on my legs? Something was crawling up my legs, on the blanket, over me, up my chest and my arm shot out, hit the lamp.
"Let me in"
If you ever hear a soft scratching at your door and a voice pleading to come in some cold night, don't open the door.
Please don't let me in.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-09 21:31:54
A Well-Oiled Machine PART ONE
“Late again, that piece of absolute trash!” Mr. Winters growled under his breath.
He was wearing his tan suit, expertly tailored to fit his flabby body. His slick, brown hair had been combed over his bald patch and his shoes were sparkling. Mr. Winters grunted as he stared down at the gold watch strapped to his chubby wrist. His thick, Tom-Selleck-Esque moustache twitched slightly in irritation and his beady eyes darted between the watch and the door, watching for the door to open.
It was eight in the morning exactly, and the building was open for business. Mr. Winters watched his employees chatter amongst themselves as they went to their cubicles with their cups of coffee, tea and whatever else kept them awake. All of Mr. Winters’ employees were on time … except for Bob, again. Mr Winters snarled and checked his watch.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed.
His employees stopped their morning chattering and looked up from their desks. Mr. Winters stood atop the stairs that lead to his office, glowing at the front door with a face whose redness would have made a tomato blush.
“Problem, sir?” Jenkins, the office brown-noser, inquired.
“Yeah, Jenkins,” Mr. Winter snapped, “there is a fucking problem. Bob’s late for the second time this week! How the flying shit are we going to build up this company if my employees are good-for-nothing wastes of Goddamn air?!”
“Maybe his train was late or-”
“He drives here, you moron,” Mr. Winters sighed, “fuck sakes. All I want is to be as successful as the other distributors out here but we can’t make that happen if you lazy dickheads won’t put in some damn effort!”
“Jesus Christ,” one of the employees murmured.
“Praying won’t make your sales numbers go up!” Mr. Winters roared, throwing a ball of paper at the transgressor, “Get the fuck back to work! You exist to make this business grow! So … start selling! If I have to hear Don from across the street brag about his quarterly results one more fucking time-”
“I’m here!” a middle-aged man wearing drab clothing burst through the door, “Sorry I’m late my-”
“Wife died?” Mr. Winters interrupted, “Car broke down? Dog’s sick? What shit excuse do you have this time, Bob?!”
“Well,” Bob began, “see, the thing is …”
“I don’t want to fucking hear another word. You’re late again and you’re fired, you hear me?!”
“Yes!” Bob rushed to his desk, “Yes sir!”
“Good,” Mr. Winters nodded and popped a cheap cigar in between his teeth, “now all of you … get the FUCK back to work!”
“Lazy bastards,” Mr. Winters grumbled as he checked his watch. His employees were leaving, filing out of the building one by one.
The last employee vacated the building and Mr. Winters slammed his fist down on his desk, hurting his hand. His office was small but lavishly furnished. Not as big as Don’s office though … a thought that stabbed Mr. Winters right in his jealous heart. The idiots who worked for him never finished the work day on time. They wanted to see their families or go to some bar and have fun. Didn’t they realize that just a little more hard work and they’d be the envy of every salesman in the city? Mr. Winters sighed and opened a drawer, pulling out another cigar.
“One of these days,” he whispered to himself while igniting his lighter, “one of these days I’ll be the prime example of success. Should invest in robots. Even a can-opener could sell more efficiently than Bob!”
Mr. Winters yelped and jumped out of his chair in fright. Standing outside the door to his office, peering in through the window, was a man in a grey suit. The man was smiling pleasantly, wearing an expression of slight concern. He was large, both in height and width, but was not what Mr. Winters would consider overweight. His suit was clearly better made than Mr. Winters’ but was far more boring. Grey with a black tie? Mr. Winters shook his head and got up from the floor.
“Are you Mr. Winters?” the man in the grey suit asked hesitantly.
“Who the fuck wants to know?”
“Charming,” the man muttered.
“What was that?!”
“I said charming,” the man grinned, showing large teeth, “I am just thrilled to meet you at last, sir. Might I come in?”
“It’s a free country,” Mr. winters chuckled at his own joke.
“Quite,” the man opened the door and stepped inside, his enormous feet slapping lightly against the floor, “my name is Levi. I’m an engineer with-”
“We’re not hiring,” Mr. Winters grunted, “have enough lazy morons around here as it is.”
“... right,” Levi rolled his eyes, “I’m not here for a job, Mr. Winters. I represent a fellow … businessman who is looking to expand.”
“Aren’t we all?” Mr. Winters lit up his cigar.
“Exactly,” Levi wrinkled his nose at the smoke, “My employer has heard that you’re looking for more efficient employees to beat out Don & Company, am I correct?”
“Yep,” Mr. Winters blew smoke directly at Levi’s face. Levi did not blink, “what’s it to you and your employer, Levi?”
“My employer thinks that if you outsell Don & Company it would help his profits considerably … he wants to offer you a gift-”
“Fuck off. I don’t need another employee.”
“I’m not talking about new employees,” Levi smiled, “what if I told you that I could make your current employees work twice as hard without the need for extra compensation?”
“I’d say you’re a liar,” Mr. Winters laughed, “or the Devil.”
“Very amusing,” Levi laughed, “but I’m neither of those things. I’m an engineer, and I have a machine that will double the growth of your business, guaranteed.”
Levi leaned over and reached into a briefcase that Mr. Winters had not noticed him carrying before. Out of the suitcase came a strange contraption, no larger than Mr. Winter’s head. It was an assortment of gears, seven in total, that were stacked on top of one another in a non-sensical order. They were shiny and chrome, glittering despite the lack of natural light in the office. Levi set the machine down on Mr. Winters’ desk and stepped back.
“I call it The Machine,” Levi said proudly in his monotone voice.
“What does it do?” Mr. Winters reached out to poke at the gears but was stopped by Levi’s gentle hands.
“It’ll make your employees work harder,” Levi assured, “the gears turn and promote efficiency in even the laziest of employees. Is there an unused room somewhere in the building?”
“Yeah, the office next to mine,” Mr. Winters replied, still staring at The Machine, “used to belong to my partner but he left this place years ago.”
“Excellent,” Levi scooped up The Machine and left the office without another word. Intrigued, Mr. Winters followed.
Levi waited patiently for Mr. Winters to unlock the door and then strode inside with the utmost confidence. He stooped low to the ground and placed the amalgamation of gears in the center of the floor with care. The gears did not move, but Levi whirled around and pulled Mr. Winters out of the room as quickly as possible.
“Hey … it didn’t do anything!” Mr. Winters grumbled.
“That’s because it takes time to warm up,” Levi replied with a knowing smile, “be patient. In a day or two your business will be the cream of the crop, the envy of all business owners!”
“Sure, sure,” Mr. Winters replied sarcastically, “so does this thing need maintenance, or does it work on magic?”
“Magic?” Levi began laughing, “oh good Lord, no. Still, it will require no maintenance from you, Mr. Winters. The only thing it needs is to be left alone.”
“Why, is it shy?”
“Incredibly,” Levi’s demeanor became serious and haunting, “you must never open that door, Mr. Winters. If you look upon The Machine it could break. It is very sensitive, you see. Now, I have to be going!” Levi turned around and made for the stairs that would lead back down to the main floor. “My employer has other gifts for me to give out before tomorrow! I’ll come by and check up on you in a few days! Enjoy your productivity and don’t open the door!”
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-09 21:33:06
A Well-Oiled Machine PART TWO OF THREE
Mr. Winters stared at Levi, his mouth agape, until the strange man left his building. Mr. winters looked over his shoulder at the closed door and then went back into his office. He finished his cigar, put on his jacket and hat, and then locked up the office before strolling down the stairs and out the front door.
“A machine that’ll make my employees more productive,” Mr. Winters chuckled, “what a fucking joke.” He locked up the front doors and turned to leave, not noticing the sound of whirring gears that was now echoing from within.
Juan arrived a few hours later and unlocked the front door, whistling as he turned the key. He pulled his cart of janitorial supplies through the door and got to work right away. Though he told Juan that he was a crappy janitor, Juan was still happy to be working for Mr. Winters. The building wasn’t too large and the employees weren’t slobs, so that made Juan’s job easier. Juan scrubbed the floors half-heartedly and cleaned the desks on the main floor. He swept the stairs and was about to go into Mr. Winters’ office when he was stopped by a strange noise.
The sound of … machinery? Juan stared at the locked, unused office next to Mr. Winters’ and frowned. Perhaps Mr. winters had purchased some sort of new machine. Juan shrugged and walked over to the empty office. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned, feeling a wave of sudden heat roll out from underneath the door. Juan blinked in confusion and dropped his mop.
“Dios mío!” Juan screamed as red light poured out of the door. He continued screaming, even as the sound was drowned out by the noise of gears clanking against one another.
Mr. Winters glanced at his watch as he unlocked the front door, not realizing that the door was already unlocked. He entered the building and stopped dead in his tracks.
The building was spotless. It was the cleanest he had ever seen the place before. Mr. Winters gaped at the cubicles and then almost had a mini-heart attack. There, standing in the main room, were his employees. Mr. Winters could hardly believe his eyes. They were early.
“Jenkins,” Mr. Winters approached his keenest employee, “why … why are all of you here?”
“To work, sir,” Jenkins responded with a slight laugh, “why do you think we come to work?”
“I meant: why are all of you here so early, nitwit!”
“Oh,” Jenkins screwed his face up and thought really hard, “I … I dunno, sir. We all just felt like coming in a bit early today. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’m going to go make some calls.”
Mr. Winters was left standing alone, flabbergasted, in a room that had been cleaned beyond all recognition. He stared up at the ceilings and shook his head in disbelief; Juan had somehow climbed to the top of the building and polished the goddamn roof!
Mr. Winters was about to jump for joy when he realized that Bob was missing. He grinned and shook his head again, “Bob’s late. At least some things don’t chan-”
“Morning, boss!” Bob said brightly as he walked through the door and straight to his cubicle.
Mr. Winters was about to yell at him when he eyed his watch. He looked down and then back up at Bob in shock.
Eight-o-clock. Bob was right on time.
Several days later, Mr. Winters was holding his employees’ reports in front of his face in disbelief. They had all doubled their projected sales for the month. All of them, even Bob! Mr. Winters studied the numbers again and found them to be correct for the fourth time. He was interrupted from his gleeful chuckling by a quiet knock on the door.
“Yes, Jenkins? What do you need?”
Jenkins entered his office and shut the door behind him. He was paler than normal and his eyes darted around the room as if looking for anyone who could be listening in on their conversation. He was wringing his hands nervously and tiny beads of sweat were clearly visible on his forehead.
“Jenkins? JENKINS!” Mr. Winters’ shout took Jenkins out of his trance.
“Yessir? Oh, sorry! I got distracted …” Jenkins trailed off.
“What did you want to see me about, Jenkins?” Mr. Winters sighed, grabbing a cigar.
“It’s just that,” Jenkins gulped and looked over his shoulder, “the others … they’re acting weird, sir.”
“What do you mean, ‘weird’?”
“You haven’t noticed?” Jenkin’s eyes widened, “they don’t stop working!”
“That’s a good thing, Jenkins,” Mr. Winters laughed, “we need to work hard if we want our competition to fear us!”
“I get that sir but … they literally don’t stop working!”
“Explain yourself, idiot.”
“I mean they don’t stop for anything! They don’t go for lunch, they don’t take bathroom breaks … I don’t think Bob’s even fucking blinked in the past hour!”
“... get back to work, Jenkins.”
The day passed in its usual fashion, but even so, Mr. Winters had trouble getting Jenkins’ words out of his head. He rose for no reason in particular and peered out of his office’s door window, looking down at the people who worked for him. They were working diligently which, at first glance, was pleasing to Mr. Winters. He was about to look away when Bob’s cubicle caught his eye. Bob was sitting completely still, his eyes staring without blinking at his computer screen. His fingers were flying across his keyboard with an almost reckless speed. Mr. Winters furrowed his eyebrows and left his office. He made his way down the stairs, nodding slightly at Juan who had decided to come in during the day to ‘make sure the place was clean’. Juan nodded back, a wide smile stuck on his face. He continued sweeping and polishing without pause, looking away only when Mr. Winters broke eye contact.
“That’s strange,” Mr. Winters whispered to himself, “then again … he is a Mexican so …”
Mr. Winters arrived at Bob’s cubicle and saw that Bob was not the only employee working without stopping. Not a single member of his staff was talking, not a single person was taking a break. Mr. Winters frowned at Alice who worked in the cubicle beside Bob. She was on the phone talking to a potential client but something was … off about her. Mr. Winters squinted and realized suddenly that Alice wasn’t breathing … no, she was breathing, albeit at a strange pace. It was like each breath was her last. Mr. Winters watched her take a deep breath and then talk to the client for thirty to forty seconds straight without pausing. Mr. Winters opened his mouth to speak when Alice bid the client an abrupt goodbye and then slammed the phone down. She stood bolt upright and whirled around on her heel.
“See you,” she mumbled in a slurred voice as she marched purposefully past her boss.
Mr. Winters watched her leave and looked down at his watch.
Five in the afternoon, exactly.
“Quittin’ time,” Bob said sullenly, appearing behind Mr. Winters without warning.
“Jesus Christ!” Mr. Winters shouted, “You scared the shit outta me. Hey … why do you sound so upset about going home, Bob?”
“Home is boring,” Bob perked up suddenly, “oh, but I get to come in again and work tomorrow! Isn’t that grand?!”
Bob raced out of the building with the rest of his fellow employees. Mr. Winters stared after them in confusion, noting that Jenkins had already gone home for the night.
The next day Mr. Winters made a beeline for Jenkins’ cubicle as soon as his employees got in. He ducked inside and looked around at the other employees, making sure none of them could see or hear him.
“Jenkins!” he hissed, “Jenkins, you were right!”
“Right about what, sir?” Jenkins continued typing.
“The others … something’s wrong with them,” Mr. Winters looked around again, “they’re not … they’re not right. We need to do some- Jenkins?”
“I don’t think anything’s wrong, Mr. Winters,” Jenkins looked away from his computer screen. His eyes were glazed over as if looking through Mr. Winters. His hands continued to move, his fingers pounding against his keyboard without stopping, “We’re all just so excited to be working! Time is money, after all! Those other business owners are gonna be so jealous of you, sir!”
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-09 21:33:51
A Well-Oiled Machine FINAL PART
Mr. Winters nodded and gulped, backing away from Jenkins. Jenkins gave him a cold smile and spun back around, typing even faster than before. Mr. Winters ran back to his office and slammed the door. He stared out at his workers but none of them looked back; they were far too busy working. Mr. Winters sat in his office and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with extreme difficulty. His hands were shaking, his brow slick with sweat. The hours passed so slowly until, finally, the clocks hit five. Mr. Winters watched his employees stand up in unison and march towards the exit like an army of zombies. Mr. Winters breathed a sigh of relief and looked underneath the desk to grab his briefcase.
“MOTHER OF FUCK!” he screamed when he raised his head.
Standing outside his door was Levi in the same, grey suit he had worn weeks before. Levi was looking at Mr. Winters with a small smirk upon his dull, pale face. He pushed the door open with ease, his enormous hands breaking the knob.
“Good evening, Mr. Winters,” he droned, “How are you doing tonight?”
“What?” Mr. Winters stepped backwards, “How … how am I doing?! What the fuck did you do to my people?!”
“People?” Levi looked confused, “they aren’t people. They’re workers. Employees. They exist to make you money, make you the envy of your peers. You said it yourself.”
“But … but I-”
“This is what you wanted, Mr. Winters. My employer is most pleased.”
“This is not what I wanted!” Mr. Winters insisted.
“You wanted your competitors to be jealous of your success …”
“NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF MY EMPLOYEES’ SOULS!” Mr. Winters roared.
“Hmm,” Levi chuckled, “interesting choice of words. Come with me, Mr. Winters.”
Levi walked away. Mr. Winters chased after him, his hands balled into fists of rage. Levi stood outside of the empty office with an evil grin on his face. He gestured towards the door and waited patiently for Mr. Winters to approach. Mr. Winters got closer and reached out for the doorknob. It was cold to the touch and yet the room beyond emanated heat that rolled out into the hall. Mr. Winters took a deep breath and opened the door.
The Machine stood in the center of the room, as tall and wide as the room itself. The seven gears were unmoving and were no longer pristine, shining metal. They were made of what appeared to be bone, covered in rust and blood. Faces covered the surface of The Machine, each and every one of them screaming in silent agony. Mr. Winters recognized them immediately as the faces of his employees. Bob, Alice, Juan, Jenkins … and so many more. All of them trapped within the gears.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Levi whispered from behind.
“What the fuck have you done? What the fuck is that thing?” Mr. Winters howled.
“It’s what you wanted,” Levi replied flatly, “you wanted to beat your competition. You wanted your employees to work perfectly, more efficiently. Like cogs in a great machine. Your envy has been rewarded; your company is the most efficient in the world.”
“What … what are those faces?”
“Well, every machine needs to be oiled,” Levi smirked, “besides, it’s not like they needed that stuff to function like good, little robots.”
“You son of a bitch!” Mr. Winters raised a fist. Levi sighed and touched Mr. Winters’ chest. Mr. Winters froze, every muscle in his body tight and unmoving.
“Your company is the most efficient in the world, thanks to my gift,” Levi said with a cold malice, “but it could be even more efficient. There is still a single cog in the machine that isn't spinning as fast as it could be ...” Levi laughed and moved towards Mr. Winters who stood, paralyzed and shaking internally with pure terror, “This wondrous Machine has made your dreams come true ... would you like to see how it works?”
Levi chuckled and shoved Mr. Winters backwards, sending him tumbling into the sides of the gears. Mr. Winters felt the gears begin to spin, pulling on his clothing. He tried desperately to move, but felt only pain as he was dragged forcefully through the first of the seven gears. He screamed out in pain, the noise never escaping his lips. All went black and, when the light returned, Mr. Winters was looking down at Levi from above, his face alongside the others trapped in The Machine. He howled and cried, his pleading going unheard. Below him, standing next to Levi, was a person who looked exactly like him.
“Well then,” Levi clapped his hands together and nodded at the false Mr. Winters, “back to work!”
Mr. Winters stood at the top of the stairs looking down at his fellow workers. They toiled to make his company the envy of the world. He felt nothing. They felt nothing. They worked. They made money. They existed to work.
The doors burst open. Not a single person looked away from their workstation. The flashbangs went off and not a single person gasped or stopped taking calls. Two men in black suits and black helmets that covered their faces came barrelling through the door. Bob sent an email as the two men shot him in the head, killing him instantly. Alice kept typing while bullet soared through her torso. The two men walked through the rows of cubicles, firing shots at each and every one of the employees. Not a single one of them stopped working, their fingers coming to rest when all brain functions ceased. Jenkins paused as the men reached his cubicle and rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and placed his own forehead against the barrel of one of the guns.
“More efficient this way,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.
The gun went off and the other man rushed past, aiming up the stairs. He discharged his weapon several times, the third shot going right through Mr. Winters’ heart.
“Clear!” Agent Weaver lowered his gun and removed his helmet, “that was fucking depressing, eh, Cold?”
Agent Cold grunted in the affirmative and removed his own helmet, glaring down at Jenkins’ lifeless corpse. Agent Weaver shook his head and stepped over Mr. Winters’ body, moving into his office. Agent Cold sighed and made his way towards the second office on the upper floor, his weapon drawn.
“Found it,” he yelled to Agent Weaver who came running as fast as he could.
“Sweet Zeus,” Agent Weaver looked The Machine up and down, whistling in shock, “you want to call the Chaplains, or should I?”
“Shut up,” cold replied, pressing a finger to his ear, “Command? Chaplain Solomon? Yessir. Yessir, we’re looking right at it. Looks like some sort of machine with gears and … faces. Yeah, the faces of the poor bastards out there. Yessir, they’re all accounted for. All of the workers that have been missing for the past few weeks. They’ve been here, uh … working. Yessir, we’ll try that right away.”
“What did Chaplain Solomon say?” Agent Weaver chuckled, already removing the flask from his belt.
“Just do it, Jesus Christ,” Agent Cold shook his head.
“Alrighty then, Mr. Grouchy,” Agent Weaver stepped forward and poured the oil onto The Machine, “hey, look, Cold. It’s working like a well-oiled ma-”
“Not funny,” Agent Cold grinned in spite of himself.
The gears began rusting and falling apart upon contact with the oil, and the faces began screaming wildly, despite making no noise. Agent Weaver responded by showing The Machine a rude hand gesture and turned away.
The two Agents left the building and relaxed outside for a moment. Agent Cold jumped as his earpiece crackled to life.
“Yessir? Yes. Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
“So, what’s the official story gonna be?” Agent Weaver asked, a bit too eagerly.
“Apparently the building burned down because of two unknown arsonists,” Agent Cold replied, throwing a lighter at Agent Weaver.
“For fuck’s sake,” Weaver sighed, “could have told us that before we got here. You’re buying lunch.”
“Deal, now hurry up,” Agent Cold winked, “don’t want to be inefficient.”
"What mask do you wear?" Nelson's shrink thought that this question might open him up, but it only shut him down. He might have been only twenty-one, but he was bright, cunning, and odd. He didn't like to be belittled, especially by someone who thought he was he's better because he had a piece of paper that said so. Nelson had studied many subjects for many years. He could out talk most of his professors, but that didn't matter. He craved something and he thought knowledge was that something.
He moved from his studies to other 'passions'. Women, money, thrill, fame. None of these things gave him any fulfillment. He was in a downward spiral of dissatisfaction. His family and people who thought they were friends cornered him. They were "concerned" and "worried" for him. They had bought him five sessions with the quack he was in the room with right now.
"Don't you think we all wear some kind of mask?" He was starting to piss Nelson off.
Nelson left his appointment more frustrated than enlightened. He wasn't depressed; he just wasn't satisfied. Nelson could've taken an Uber back home, but he decided that the brisk fall air could help him sort his thoughts. He became lost inside his mind within a few minutes. His mind wandered to the past, to when he was a child. Within his mind, he saw himself at the age of nine. The hospital room his younger self was in was all too familiar to him. The sound of doctors and nurses hustling was soothing to his body. He gazed at the hospital bed. His mother laid there dying, her final words echoed through his skull.
"Do something that makes you happy."
That one command from his dying mother sent him off on a quest. He needed to find something that brought joy into his life, something that would make him feel like his mother did once, but by trying to find such a thing with so much fervor he had lost it. Even when he felt joy, he didn't believe it was the kind his mother wanted him to have, so he pushed it aside. His quest had hardened his soul and edged it with darkness. He was quick to snap at people, more prone to violent outbursts, but he never hurt anyone.
The walk back to his place seemed to have gone within the blink of an eye. Nelson found himself bounding up the porch of his house with an intense and deliberate bounce. Once out of his own head, he slowed himself down, confused why his body wanted him home so badly. As he approached the front door, Nelson took notice that all the hair on his arms were standing up and goose flesh had rippled across his skin.
A box sat at the foot of the door. Nelson observed the odd package, noting it was wrapped in black paper that didn't seem to reflect light. It was tied with a blood red ribbon. The package itself wasn't massive; he was fairly certain a bomb couldn't be placed into it. But it was unsettling. Most people would've felt a dark cloud form at such a sight, but Nelson felt curiosity, clarity, and, most importantly cheer. With haste, he scooped the box into his arms and fumbled for his keys.
Once inside his house, inside his place of peace, he put the box down on the kitchen table and sat across from it. The box was decently heavy for its size and when he shook it, he could hear something solid thump against the walls of its cardboard cage. Again, he examined the paper covering it, but this time he looked closer. No return address and no way of telling how it might have gotten there. Nelson put the box back down and examined the evidence he had.
"Screw it." He said to nobody and he pulled on the blood red bow. The knot came undone with ease and as the ribbon fell to the sides so did the paper. Nelson watched this effortless unwrapping and sensed magic in the air. As the wrapping paper fell away, he noticed the box had a small lip all around it.
He didn't believe that he didn't notice the lid from holding the box. His hands shook as they reached over to lift it up. Quickly, like an animal testing a trap, he put his index fingers underneath the lip and flipped it over. Chilled air sprung from the box and sent a massive shiver down his spine. Fear was starting to creep into Nelson's soul. Without his butt leaving the seat, he leaned over the table to see the contents of the box.
His hands had stopped shaking but had become clammy as he reached for the mask. The mask was cool to the touch, a thick steel, or so Nelson thought. The carvings were precise and perfect. He didn't notice a scratch misplaced, no markings that weren't deliberate. He looked closer at the carvings. Some had started shallow but increased in depth and width. He pushed it away, now trying to decipher what the mask was supposed to look like. It was nothing he recalled seeing, but some of the symbols on the cheeks reminded him of the Aztec ruins he had visited in his early adventures seeking that evasive joy.
The longer he gazed at the mask, the more demonic it began to appear, but he was never afraid of the mask itself. No, he was afraid that this joy he felt in the pit of his stomach still wasn't the 'one'. He peered back into the box, looking for clues to the mask's sender. He dug around in the packaging and pulled a card from within the depths. He read it once, then twice, then three times. He grew more excited each time his brain processed what he was reading.
To whom it may concern,
You're invited to an exclusive, once in a lifetime party. A masquerade party. There will be food, drink, and much enjoyment. Inside this package is your invitation, the mask. The mask must be worn to enter the party. Each mask has been made for the specific recipients. No fakes and no replicas allowed. We hope you join us for this party, one you soon won't forget.
The note continued with a time, date, and location. As he placed the note next to the box, Nelson's hand couldn't stop shaking with excitement. He wasn't sure why he was excited about such a thing. He had been invited to exclusive parties before, but there was something different about this. Maybe it was the elusiveness of who wanted him there and, with the masks, the elusiveness of who would be there. The note said that the party would be held tomorrow night.
He needed to get a suit.
The party started at 7 PM sharp. Nelson decided it would be best not to be fashionably late. He fixed his tie in the car for the thirtieth time. He was antsy and just wanted to be at the party. He placed the cool mask upon his face and the sharp, chill temperature of the steel resulted in an audible gasp. It was the first time he donned the mask. It fit snug, the eye holes were wide enough that his vision was clear and his nostrils had a clear path for oxygen. The mask was definitely handcrafted for his face.
He wondered from his car to the front door to the establishment. Two burly bouncers stood with their arms crossed. Nelson almost chuckled at the sight, but once he saw the masks they wore; his laughter couldn't be contained. The two bouncers wore monkey masks. From where Nelson was standing the masks looked like cheap plastic, far more inferior than his steel mask. He walked up to the buff monkeys and they did not acknowledge his presence.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-09 22:54:13
"Hello gentlemen," his voice shook more than he expected. "I have an invitation to this party." He pointed to the mask upon his face. "My name is Nelson-" the bouncers moved before he finished stating his name. The door to the mansion that hosted the part swung open. For the second time in a week, Nelson's skin rippled with both fear and excitement. He put on a brave face, though no one could see, and he entered the party.
From the outside, the building looked very plain. Almost like a museum your parents might have dragged you to because you needed to "expand your horizons". But you just looked at the giant red cube and wondered how much someone was paid for the thing. The outside of this "artistic" building was a bald-faced lie. Nelson sauntered into the building and he was immediately amazed. It was like he was teleported into one of the parties in The Great Gatsby. The walls were painted with silver and gold. Fat, obnoxious pillars lined the marble floor. Colorful streamers hung from the rafters and dipped off to the sides, looking tastefully messy. A large jazz band was jamming away for the crowd. The energy in the room was electrifying.
Nelson was afraid that if he moved or touched anything, the whole place would disappear. The jazz music got louder and Nelson started snapping his fingers. He wasn't sure when he started snapping, but it was like an old habit. Like he had been doing it all night. A grin shot from ear to ear and his gaze moved from the crazy decorations and the live music to the massive, masked crowd on the dance floor.
The crowd was alive and appeared to be having the time of their lives. Women were yelling and men were hollering. Bodies kept grooving and blurring into each other. Nelson felt his body give in further to the music and he started making his way towards the dance floor. Nelson danced with women and men, it didn't matter. The party was all consuming, it was all he could think of. Pure joy started to flood into his system like the first hit of a new drug.
He had found it, his mother's wish. The laughter started first, uncontrollable and loud. The crowd cheered and danced harder. The tears came after. The feeling was surreal. He kept dancing, he kept laughing, but tears flooded his cheeks.
Years of emotion he'd kept locked within his soul escaped in this moment.
The party. The band. These people. The dancing. He never wanted it to end.
The night went on, but his body couldn't. It didn’t matter how magical the party was, it couldn't keep his body energized. His energy started collapsing, as did the crowd around him. Each one was picked off by exhaustion and moving towards the snack table or grabbing drinks at the bar. As his body slowed down, he felt the joylessness of his life seeping back in. Already, what he wouldn't give to dance and let go again.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, that was a riot. Was it not?" Nelson looked for the source of the voice, but his eyes couldn't focus. However, his mouth and the mouths of the crowd erupted in cheers. Another involuntary action, but it felt good.
"That's always good to hear, but this party is not free! We all know that! Freedom isn't free! We all know that! So, how do we pay for the freedom to be ourselves? To let it all go for one night a month!"
Nelson's mind didn't know the answer, but somehow his mouth did.
"BLOOD!" He chanted with the rest of the crowd.
"BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLLLLLOOOODDDDD!"
"Yes. Blood is the answer."
Nelson's mind finally caught up to his mouth and panic set in. He was a cool customer, but this chanting of blood had set him on edge. He told his body to stop, to get away from this... whatever this was, but it didn't listen. It seemed to respond harder in the opposite direction. His chants for blood became louder, his foot stomped the ground as others started to stomp as well. His eyes finally landed on a man in the center of the crowd.
His eyes met the man's. He felt warm, like when his mother picked him up and held him close to her chest. It didn't bother him that the man had yellow irises. The kind of yellow that usually brought fear, but for Nelson it brought peace.
"NOW HOW DO WE OBTAIN PAYMENT!" The sides of the man's face rippled as his powerful voice shot out.
"SACRIFICE!" The man's question riled up the crowd. People were jumping onto the bar, stomping their feet harder. The walls shook with the force. Nelson's mind had now followed his mouth's lead and enjoyed the idea of a sacrifice (if he didn't have to be the one sacrificed.) With the mask on his face, he didn't feel shame for wanting the death of someone else. He didn't feel shame about anything. Is that why he had kept this all in? Having his identity exposed kept him from breaking open. It kept him from experiencing joy or experiencing pain. But the mask. It hid him away so he could be himself.
The man waved his hands for the crowd to calm themselves and Nelson moved his attention back to the man. The man didn't wear a mask like everyone else. His identity was exposed, but it didn't stop him from emoting. A crooked, toothy grin spread across his face. On top of that smile was a thick, slick, pointed mustache. The ends of the mustache bent like pitchforks. The man's eyes were rich yellow, his eyebrows thin and slick like his mustache. His hair was black like the inside of a void. It parted down the middle and curved up at the ends. If Nelson had met this man on the street, he would've thought he had horns. The man's suit wasn't like apparel of the guests. It was modern, more business. The blood red tie popped within the blackness of his whole ensemble. The man was staring at him.
"You're the new man, aren't you?" The crowd had moved around Nelson and the man, making the space between the two of them narrow and claustrophobic. Breathing became hard for Nelson. He struggled to loosen the bow tie around his neck that now felt more like a noose.
"Are you going to answer me?" The man's eyes shot a red flare, but then rapidly returned to yellow.
"Ye-yes sir. I was invited to this party a few days a-ago." Nelson couldn't recall ever stuttering before today.
"Did you enjoy yourssself?" Nelson thought the slight lisp he heard had to be his mind playing tricks.
"Qui-qui-quite a lot sir. It has been a great tim-time. I felt like I coul-co-could really let myself go."
"That's what we aim to do, but we need payment for thisss type of party."
"Exactly my good fellow."
"Blood sacrifice. BLOOD SACRIFICE!" Nelson's chant became the crowd's chant. The man nodded his head and turned his back on everyone. Music started playing, but it wasn't jazz this time. Nelson didn't have a genre to describe the music. It felt ritualistic. The lights in the room dimmed and candles seemed to appear in the hands of the crowd. A crowd that was rapidly becoming a mob in Nelson's eyes. His hands warmed and he looked at the candle now in his fist. Where did it come from? He didn't remember grabbing it from anyone or from anywhere. Was he losing time or was he just going insane? The crowd gathered around in a circle and chanted, but the loudness in their voices dissipated and the chant was no more than a collective whisper.
"Blood Sacrifice. Blood sacrifice. Blood sacrifice." Nelson's voice melded within theirs. With the room lit only by candlelight, the walls danced with shadows. Nelson saw the world as it was on those walls. Murder, war, death as a whole was within those shadows. Earlier Nelson felt joy and sadness for the first time in a long time, tonight he felt fear again. He was afraid of what was about to happen.
The man with the yellow eyes reappeared dragging a large brown sack behind him. The sack was large and it wiggled. Something was alive in there.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-09 22:57:31
"Since we have new people with us today," he nodded towards Nelson, "I thought I would explain why the need for this sacrifice. I believe all of you in this room have some form of wealth that could pay for this fete, but why take from someone what they don't need. Taking money from the rich is pointless. This party wouldn't drain your wealth. It isn't that expensive, but it is magical. Isn't it magical?" Within the crowd were murmurs of "yes" and "preach it". "This party, this celebration gives you true humanity. It can only do so because of my magic, but my magic also has a cost. It doesn't require money. It requires blood. Still, what does that take from you? Nothing."
The man with the yellow eyes undid the knot at the top of the sack and pulled a young girl, barely the age of ten, out of the bag. Her eyes were wet and bloodshot from what must have been days of crying and uncertainty. Her hair was a dirty blonde, but not in color. It was dirty because she hadn't been bathed in a long time. She looked so small, so frightened. She was. However, she didn't cry for help because she knew no help would come. The man with the yellow eyes grabbed a handful of her hair and she released a dry and cracked yelp.
"I make my payment in front of you so I can take your humanity just a little." A knife in his hand. Nelson's eyes widened. He knew what was coming, but his body was eager to stay and watch it unfold.
"Humanity is harder to restore than wealth, but it is just as easy to lose." The tip of the knife was held to the front of her neck. Her eyes looked into his. Rage. The tip punctured the flesh. No effort for him in this action. The life within the girl’s eyes left as they rolled back in her skull. Her dried, gray tongue hung out of her mouth.
She was gone. Nelson had seen people bleed before, but the amount leaving her neck was like something out of the movies. It seemed endless. He forced himself to blink, to drown out the image of her dying before he drowned in her blood. His eyes stayed shut for a moment, but when they decided to flutter back open, he wasn't staring at the girl anymore. He was staring back at the crowd and he was the man with the yellow eyes.
It didn't take long for his brain to put the pieces together. He looked down at his hands. In one a glistening red knife. In the other, the dirty hair of his victim. The man with the yellow eyes didn't kill her. He did. His payment was given. His stomach wrenched and fluid left his body.
"Blood sacrifice. Blood sacrifice. Blood sacrifice." The crowd chanted once again. Nelson threw up again. He let go of the girl and she fell forward onto the floor with a thump, her blood still seemed to pour out and spread. He felt guilt for a moment. After all, he had just taken a life. But the guilt left him just as fast as it came. He was glad he did it because he did what his mother asked of him. He did something that made him happy. Don't misunderstand, taking the life didn't make him happy, but being able to return to this place of purpose did. The only way he could return was to take that life.
The man with the yellow eyes came to him and placed a hand on his mask.
"Your debt is almost paid." He pulled the mask from Nelson's face and stared at it, like a gothic version of Macbeth.
"Sacrifice will be needed again, and you must bring it."
The man with the yellow eyes handed Nelson his mask back and Nelson ran his finger along the cool steel, remembering just hours ago where he was, and how he'd felt. Now he felt joyful. He looked up from the mask and the man was gone. The crowd had gathered themselves and they were flooding out the doors. The night was over.
"I know I asked you this the last time, but what masks do you wear?"
The old Nelson would've been annoyed by this repetition of the dumb question, but the new Nelson had an answer.
"Humanity." The shrink leaned forward in his seat, hungry for progress with his hardest patient.
"Please elaborate." He licked his lips.
"Humanity is a mask we all wear. We pretend like we are better than the rest of the world, but deep down, deep deep down, we are savages. We wear the mask of humanity to pretend we can be saved, but we can't."
"That seems like a dark point of view Nelson."
"It's not. It's bright!" Nelson sat up from out couch. "Might I have a drink?"
"Of course. Excuse me." The shrink got up from his chair and made his way to the water pitcher on the side. With his back towards Nelson, Nelson opened his pack and pulled out his mask.
"If we think of humanity as a mask and not a solution, it is liberating." The mask felt cool against his skin. "You can do anything once you lift the mask of humanity." Nelson's shrink turned back to his patient to rebut such an idiotic statement, but all that escaped his mouth was a scream as Nelson plunged a letter opener into his heart.
I walk around for one last time while stroaking all of there heads when i walk past them. The guy (fuckboy) tries to shake my hand of his head of course it doesn’t work. The girl i feel shacking and the other guy is just sitting still like nothing is going on. He probebly doesn’t want to seem scared but i can feel his fear. It’s such an sensational feeling. You can compair it to getting a new car or getting into a rolercoaster. I love the feeling.
Finally i stand by my seat. I hang over the back of the seat and say: ‘’you know i don’t know all of your names…. How can we play if i don’t know all your names right?’’ they fuckboy looks at me with eyes that look to be on fire. He doesn’t say a thing but i feel the hatred. ‘’you know if you would want to say somthing pretty boy you can just open your mouth you know…hmm… that brings me on an idea what if you start to introduce yourself?’’ i play with the knife in my hands while i wait for someone to say something. ‘’hmm… your all not so talketive except the girl but you know it’s funny how i’ll probebly get you to talk right now’’ they look at me suprised and scared at the same time. i’m sure they know what i’m going to do right? Or not? Who cares 2 of them are going to die anyway hihi. I can’t wait to see that wonderfull sight.
I walk over to the girl who still has the peace of cloth on her mouth.of course i stand behind her and play with the knife near her neck ‘’you poor thing. You know i’m so sorry that your the victem of all this you know. That promise really f*cked you over you know and now they will as well’’ she looks up at me with scared eyes. She is shacking but doesn’t move a finger. She probebly knows if she makes a move she will lose some limbs, or her life and, that would be so sad you know. I rather play with three people than with two. It’s so much more fun to see others kill instead of me doing the dirty work.
‘’you know i’m going to make a simple move, you talk she lives or doesn’t lose a limb. If your stuborn and don’t care keep your mouth shut. It’s a simple game as well but it would be pain in the ass to play with only two people and i’m sure you wouldn’t want someone else to get involved right?’’ i see the oldest guy look up. It’s like i triggerd something in him. Hmm… mabey he has a little sister or brother that he wouldn’t want to get involved. That’s a good one to keep in mind. The fuckboy is still looking at me the same way and keeps his mouth shut.
‘’okay your making it hard you know. I don’t want to do your dirty work but okay i’m going to count to 3 and if non of you say something and not introduce yourself i will take my knife and play with this little girl here and i’ll make you watch and mabey someone else you know will get invloved okay?’’ they both now looked shocked. I finally sparked everyones attention like i wanted. They are hard to play with, but you know they will learn soon enough i don’t mess around but you know who cares right? It will give a new thrill to the game and invorment anyway. I wish i could know what kind of amezing feeling they are going through. It must be so amezing to feel like that. i’m almost druweling about the idea. It’s so amezing to be like this. Tied down and in an a game of life and death. I wish someone did that to me, but people are so boring but i need to keep going.
‘’okay your choice i’m going to count down…one…..two….three’’ i didn’t expect to be so stubborn but before i could stab the girl right in the shoulder the older guy screams ‘’stop!!! Please, i’ll go first just don’t do that’’ i see that his eyes are full of tears. Why is he crying? Hm.. weird i’ll find out eventually i’m sure.
‘’aaah finally someone got the balls to say something. Congrats sweetheart you saved her little shoulder’’ i walk back to my chair and sit down. I put my ellbows on the table and put my head in my hands. ‘’so you desided to save her, you got some good standarts but you know you can not always do that but your lucky this time’’ i see him looking up at me. ‘’you know your a monster right?’’ i role my eyes ‘’hahaha me a monster? Nonono i’m not the monster here. You know the world says people like me are he monsters right? While the goverment makes lies up about things and help the country to the ground and never help people. I’m just doing you all a favor haha if your dead or traumatised atleast you’ll never think about that right? And it’s a punishment for your promise… it’s your own fault you ended up here sweetheart’’ i give him a big smile and than sit up straight.
‘’so you have to still tell me something boy,’’ he looks at me mad, but i see the tears roling down his face. I love to see that fear it must be amezing. He says in an angry voice: ‘’there is nothing i need to tell you’’ how sad that hurted my feelings hahaha of course not but he has to introduce himself or i will still not spare the girl. ‘’you know what i said before introduce yourself or she get’s hurt’’ he looks down again and starts talking in a deveted voice. ‘’okay okay i get it.. my name is Aaron and i’m 18 years old.’’ Hmm.. Aaron what a beautiful name. ‘’that is an intressting name you know i already like you haha you got some fire but know when not to do something stupid. I admire that because some of us don’t know how to do that’’ i look at the guy who is sitting on the right of Aaron.
I look back at Aaron. He has dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. It are like he has diamonts in there because they shine bright. i look at the guy who has been annoying all this time, he has red hair and baby blue eyes. The weird thing even though he has a soft looking outside his eyes feel like fire if he looks at me mad. ‘’your turn’’ i say smiling to him and he sighs because i he knows he can’t refuse. ‘’yo name is Sam i’m 16 years old’’ he looks away after he said it. it seems like he is discusted by me but i wouldn’t care less. Everyone has there own opinion, eventually he will find out he should pay attention to me or he will make mistakes. I like his fire though. He has a character that is very compative now i just need to get the monster out of him. He may be just a fuckboy but there is so much more in him i’m so sure about that. mabey he could even help me.
‘’now it’s your turn sweetheart’’ i say while í’m still staring at Sam. I hear little muffeling and get eventually annoyed ‘’you know you can talk right’’ while i look at her i relized i put a peace of cloth in her mouth to prefent her from screaming or talking. I sigh and walk over to her. I remove the peace of cloth and walk back to my seat. ‘’if your going to scream again this is going back where it first was okay? I’m sure you wouldn’t like that’’ i wave the peace of cloth infront of her nose and than put ita way in my pocket. I see she is still terrified to say something but after a couple seconds she finally spits out her introduction.’’uhm..m…my name is… j..Jacklin’’ she stops there. ‘’and?’’ i ask. She hasn’t told us her age yet. ‘’and what?’’ she asks in the most stupid voice i have ever heard. ‘’look i know your not stupid and your manipulative as well as smart. Everyone has said there name and age you did one what did you think you missed?’’ she thinks for a second and that already takes way to long.
‘’you mean my age?’’ i sigh and shake my head in my hands. ‘’no sweatheart your freaking hair lenght of course your stupid age!! What do you think?’’ she is in shock because i got mad but it was for a good reason. ‘’uhmm… i’m sorry… i’m jacklin and i’m 14 years old’’ finally she said it. that took litterly to long. Jacklin had blond hair and bright green eyes. She looks intresting just like Sam. She has something to hide, mabey i can get it out. ‘’okay so on my right sits populair Jacklin, on my left sits Aaron and straight forward sits the fuckboy Sam if i’m correct?’’ i ask while giving them a smile.
‘’uhm why do you call them like that’’ ask Aaron. Hmm… he is an curious one. ‘’have you seen them before Aaron?’’ he looks confused. ‘’uhm.. mabey Jacklin not Sam though. I’m sure Jacklin isn’t that way and Sam isn’t as well.’’ He seems to know Jacklin that’s weird mabey he reacted so shocked because of that reason… i’ll find out. ‘’hahaha you don’t know them very well. Jacklin walks around on school like she is the queen, she is one of the most populair girls. The worst thing is she bullies the people who don’t look like she wants them to look’’ i turn my head to her and i see she is about to break. ‘’isn’t that right sweetheart? You loved to see them suffer and where very manipulative about letting other people doing your things. I loved seeing you doing that but you never knew what would happen in the future hahaha you shouldn’t be such a populair b*tch if you knew what fate you would have’’ i start laughing because the tears run down her face, how much can she take.
She is strong but this is just the first shell i have to break trough. I stop laughing ‘’haha Aaron look at her, can you see how the truth hurts her? I am telling the truth unfortuanlly. But for Sam he was a such a fuckboy. A long time ago he started with this behavior. He always thought he could use other girls to get what he wanted. He f*cked them over and r*ped girls even if they didn’t do what he wanted. He has a special personallity. He is very competive and always wants to win so he might cheat with this. You should keep an eye on him if i where you’’ i smile at Sam who now has no fire for me. it looks like i hit the right note to put out his little spark for now. he will give this an intressting twist. ‘’what about me than?’’ i look at Aaron. ‘’hmm… your a weird one, i’m not sure what you are but your really intressting you know. You can manipulate others but you can maniplulated super easily. Especially by me. i know you have some secrets i would love to know. Your not as good as you seem or atleast you have a side to you, you don’t like others to see’’ he looks at me in shock. It seems that i guessed right.
‘’you know until now i know alot about you but let me introduce myself. Hi i’m someone you knew in your life eventually when you die you will know my name. I’m an age but i don’t know how old i am but you can guess, now you know a bit about me.’’ ‘’you litterly told us nothing you know’’ it’s Sam who sais it. wow he can talk this is great. ‘’haha i know i’m sorry but i want to keep this a secret until someone falls dead because they lost, it gives a little twits to it you know. If you want to know my name and my age you should lose the game but take the risk of dying.’’ Sam looks confused ‘’why would anyone want to know your name if this is a game you can’t even choose to lose and who is so dumb to know your name and wants to die for that?’’ hahaha he really thinks this is the first time i’m doing this? Hahaha no he is wrong ‘’hahaha aahww you silly boy, unfortunally some did die because of that. they where just to curious or just wanted to die anyway, or wanted to die first because they couldn’t see others die. It’s sad that they gave up so easily but you know it’s how people work somethimes’’ he looks with big eyes to the others and tries to sit straight but i know he is in shock. People who kill themself for themself or if they couldn’t handle a death or even curiousity is insane. Not even i would do that but you know it’s hard for some people to stay sane and normal when they see other people die. That is most of the time when they show there true self and show what they are capable of. That is the moment i love, it is so intense.
It reminds me of my own life and death match. It’s just like this. The same game the same table. I didn’t know what was going on then and there and i was helpless and the other cheated alot but i always knew what they where doing. In the end i won the game and what happend with the card master i will mabey tell them later. It was so intence and i loved it. it’s a feeling you can find nowhere unless you end up like this or are lucky. I don’t even remember the feeling to well but i know i loved it so much i showed there my personallity that was hiden in me. the card master helped me get that out and showed me this awesomly thing.
‘’you know we introduced ourself enough now and talked enough, i wanted to see you all play for a while now and now is the moment we are really going to start the game. I can’t wait anymore. So finally we can really begin the game. Let’s start the game and i wish you all luck’’
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-10 22:38:50
October 31, 1971
I was at a Masquerade ball in London when a performer came out on the stage. The room that it took place in was quite cramped if not claustrophobic. There was a chandelier above the performer with many lit candles. "Enough to set a fire", I thought. As the performer started to speak and the audience started to turn, I got a hunch up my back that there wasn't something right with this man. He had a blue tailcoat decorated with stars and a white shirt with a red tie and black pants. I was listening to him speak when I turned around and saw a few shadowy figures in the background making there way out the exits. I started to follow the men when the performer came up to me and asked to dance.
The other night sure was a weird one though I feel like it put me an in enchanted spell. The performer that night asked me to dance and perform with him. He told me his name and said that he would bring me into a world of enchantment. As he spun me around in the pale moon light I noticed it was a blood moon that night. He danced with me for some time until he whispered in my ear," When you dance under the blood moon you know we are meant to be". I looked up at him with his star shaped mask. He bowed down and took my hand and then said," Will you join me Monday evening in the woods for a walk". I looked up at him and without thinking said yes.
I joined the man in the woods and just as he said we went on a walk but then he started talking of magic nonsense. What was I suppose to think he was a performer, but then he took out a dagger. We stopped. He asked for my hand in marriage. I didn't know what to think. He glared," You're saying no"? I didn't reply. He raised the dagger and said," No one can here you scream", and down went the dagger into my hand I dodged it a little bit and ran back all the way to my home
I haven't slept and I haven't eaten waiting for something to happen. I've been hearing pounding and it won't stop. Someone, Anyone, if you find this journal the man's name is Diane, John. SOMEONE,HELP,ANYO...
Madame (Nurse) Ann was never found that night and there was no trace of blood. All there was that was left behind was her journal, a blue cloth, and a dagger that had a weird humming noise coming from it. The dagger was classified to be the same dagger that Serial Killer John Diane had. A dagger of magic that trapped his victim's soul even though with each soul there was black dust and there was dust to be found or sweeped by anyone. A black cloth was found later from what Ann was last wearing and any other evidence was unknown but the only people in the country that could've been possible for the Disappearance of Ann was 2 shadowy men...
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-21 07:59:11
HUMANS CAN LICK TOO
A young teenage girl lived at home with her mother, father and her much loved pet dog.
Being 16 years old her parents decided that she was now old enough to be left alone without a minder while they went out for the evening. Although there was some concern about leaving a young girl in a house all by herself, they knew she was sensible and would behave. And besides, she did have the pet Alsatian dog to look after her and keep her company.
The parents left for the night, leaving Emergency phone numbers and supplies for the night. The girl was thrilled to be spending her first night alone in her parents house and mainly watched TV until 11.00 rolled round.
Deciding she was tired she moved upstairs to her comfy bedroom to retire for the night. Her trusty Alsatian dog following her all the time.
After being asleep for a short time she awoke to a dripping noise coming from the bathroom. Not afraid, but curious as to what the noise was she lowered her hand down beside her bed to gain a little comfort from the Alsatian. She felt the warmth of his soft tongue as he licked her hand, showing her that he was O.K and that everything would be alright. Feeling assured she drifted off to sleep once more.
Waking once again to the sounds of the dripping tap, or whatever it was, in the bathroom she instinctively dropped her hand down to pet her dog. Once again her dog offered up the loyal companionship that only a much trusted and loved pet can, and licked her hand and she once again fell asleep.
For the last time she woke up again, that annoying noise was still going, she reached for her dog but found he wasn't there. Wondering where her parents were at this time of night (it was about 3.30am by this time) and looking for her dog she walked out into the bathroom.
A horrifying sight met her, the dog had been mutilated and was creating the dripping noise, as blood slowly fell and pooled on the floor below. Screaming she ran back through the house and attempted to call the police. The phone was dead, and she turned to suddenly see her parents also mutilated behind her. Her screams could be heard as she looked down at a note written in blood, it read:
"Humans Can Lick Too My Beautiful".
She then runs madly for the stairs only to see a black figure waiting with open arms to catch her.
i am 1# newgrounds first celebrity,call me ninja kitty,i am a guardian christian of canada
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-23 16:01:35
Here's a Halloween-themed Creepypasta I wrote a while ago. I have to separate it into two parts due to it's length. Hope you like it. WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE
Alice In Hell
There is a common saying that goes, "Curiosity killed the cat." It is a very useful saying, teaching people not to make poor decisions that could ultimately lead to their demise. Unfortunately, some people allow their curiosities to get the better of them and it eventually consumes them. Kelly was one of those people.
Sunday October 31, 2004
It was Halloween, Kelly’s favorite time of the year. She thought it would be a good idea to decorate her front door with some cheap decorations, to let kids know she was handing out candy. At 12:35 PM, she drove to the local dollar store to buy Halloween candy and decorations. While browsing, she found a shelf full of old VHS tapes. As she looked through them, her eyes fell upon an old copy of Disney’s 1951 classic, Alice in Wonderland.
“Wow! I haven’t seen this movie in a long time,” she said to herself excitedly. Kelly decided to purchase it along with her candy and decorations. When she came back home, it was still too early for trick-or-treaters to be out, so she took some time to prepare her front door.
She continued decorating and filled a large pumpkin-shaped bowl with candy. By the time she was finished, it was nearly 4:00 PM.
She checked if there were any more decorations to put up. When she looked inside the plastic bag from the dollar store, she saw the Alice in Wonderland VHS box sitting all by itself.
“Oh, I forgot about this. Maybe I could watch it before trick-or-treaters arrive.” Kelly had a VCR/DVD player in her living room, so she opened up the box to watch the movie.
Something was strange about the tape. The movie’s logo was on the front, but it was as if someone had tried to scratch it off with a knife. Kelly figured it must have been a used copy.
As she took the movie out of the box, she noticed a strip of masking tape on the back of the video cassette with the words, “PLAY ME,” written very poorly, as if a child had written it.
“That’s weird. Maybe someone was trying to be cute at the dollar store,” she reassured herself.
She closed her curtains, turned the television on, turned the lights off, and put the tape into the VCR. Kelly was shrouded in darkness, perfect for watching a movie.
As the opening title cards were playing, Kelly laid herself down on the couch and was excited to be watching one of her favorite movies from her childhood. The movie started off normally with nothing out of the ordinary. The picture was a little faded, but it was tolerable for a used copy. For about ten minutes, the movie played just fine. When it got to the scene showing Alice inside the bottle she drank from, strips of static started appearing on the screen.
“What’s going on?” Kelly started getting frustrated. “Please don’t crap out on me.”
Suddenly, the entire screen went to static and the movie was gone.
“Oh, come on!” Kelly became angry and got up to see what was wrong with the tape. As she headed over to the television, the picture came back on. Only this time, it was not Alice in Wonderland. It was an old home video. Kelly was upset, but decided to not fast forward the tape. She was curious to see what the previous owner could possibly have recorded over the movie.
The picture quality was not very good. The footage looked like it came from a 1970’s home movie camera. The video was of a small group of children gathered around a table with a little girl sitting at the end of it. She had long auburn hair and she wore a dress similar to what Alice wore. They were all singing “Happy Birthday” to her and someone (most likely her mother) brought a cake out with lit candles and set it in front of the girl. As she blew the candles out, everyone started cheering.
Kelly thought it was strange for someone to record this girl’s birthday over the movie, but she kept watching to see what would happen next. As she made her way back to the couch, the video jumped to the children chasing each other in a game of tag out in a large field.
After about two minutes of tag, the video suddenly cut to static. It made Kelly’s heart skip a beat. She laughed it off and continued watching the movie. After a few seconds, Alice in Wonderland was playing again. It started as Alice left Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee in the woods. For a few minutes, nothing happened to the movie.
When Alice met the talking flowers and listened to them sing, the video cut to static again.
As the picture became apparent, it showed the same children from earlier playing Ring Around the Rosie with the birthday girl in the middle of them. They were in the same field that they were playing tag in moments before. The camera filming it all was at a high angle, possibly from a two-story window.
Unlike the previous video segment, this one had no sound. The children were constantly spinning around the little girl, holding their hands together in a giant ring. After about a minute of silence, Kelly could barely hear children’s voices whispering simultaneously.
This is what she heard:
“Ring around dear Alice
Her heart is filled with malice
She soon shall die”
Kelly was disturbed by the horrific rhyme.
The video suddenly cut off with loud static. Kelly gasped and held her hand to her chest.
She thought it would be wise to stop watching the movie, but she felt that she just had to know what was on the rest of the tape. As the movie came back on at the scene where Alice meets the blue caterpillar, Kelly sat herself up and continued watching. The video continued playing normally until it got to the Mad Tea Party.
Before the Mad Hatter and March Hare could sing “A Very Merry Unbirthday”, the video jumped to static again. Kelly felt a lump forming in her throat.
There was sound this time, but the image was distorted and hard to distinguish. Kelly could hear a little girl’s voice.
“Mommy, I’m not lying. There’s a monster that hides in my room. I can’t sleep because it watches me at night. Please, you have to believe me!” she seemed very upset, almost to the point of tears.
“I am sick of hearing this,” her mother said angrily. “You are eight years old. There are no such things as monsters. You should know better.”
“THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD ENOUGH,” her mother screamed at the top of her lungs. Kelly could hear the girl sobbing softly as the mother stomped her feet. Suddenly, the picture shook violently and became clear.
The video was of the little girl sitting in a chair staring at the floor. She had tears rolling down her face and looked as if she had been beaten. Bruises covered her arm and face.
“Mommy, what are you doing?” At this time, the girl looked very worried, dreading what her mother was about to do. In a few moments, her mother walked towards her, her head cut off by the edge of the screen. In her hand was a small knife.
Kelly’s heart pounded in her chest, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.
The girl’s mother took the knife in one hand, grabbed the girl’s cheeks, and forced her to stick out her tongue.
“I am going to scrape those lies off your tongue!” With that, she placed the sharp edge of the knife into the girl’s mouth and quickly scraped it across her tongue. The girl screamed in agonizing pain. Kelly could see slivers of bloody tongue fall onto the floor. She suddenly felt nauseous. She got up, ran to the kitchen sink, and vomited.
As Kelly washed out her mouth, the video went to a piercing static, making her scream.
She slowly crept back to the couch, keeping her eyes glued on the screen. The movie came back to Alice walking away from the tea party disgruntled with the Mad Hatter and March Hare.
However bad the video segments were, Kelly felt she had to find out who was filming these terrible things happening to this little girl.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-23 16:08:55
The movie got to the scene with Alice getting lost in the Tulgey Wood. Again, the screen filled with static. It only lasted a few seconds before cutting to a video of the girl sitting on the front edge of a bed, crying into her hands. The room she was in was very dark. Everything behind her was cast in shadow. For nearly three minutes, she just sat there, crying. Not once did she look up.
Every few seconds, she would stop and say, “Nobody loves me.”
After a while, a door opened off camera, letting a dim light enter the room. Slowly, a shadowed figure entered the room and floated towards the girl. She looked at the figure and her eyes shot wide open. She began to plead, “NO! PLEASE!” Her cries were abruptly severed by the deafening static. Kelly screamed out loud and covered her eyes.
After the static died down, she gained the courage to open her eyes. The movie came back on with Alice going into the Queen of Heart’s courtyard. All the bright colors and silly moments of the film could not stir Kelly out of her deep-seeded fear.
Kelly began to gain hope that the hellish video segments were over and she could watch the rest of the movie in peace.
As the trial scene approached, the picture gradually faded to static. Kelly’s heart dropped and she started sobbing. This time, the static lasted over two minutes. Kelly’s heart raced in anticipation of the upcoming video.
When the static disappeared, there was…nothing. The living room was filled with a deafening silence. Kelly became short of breath and started hyperventilating. For several seconds, there was complete silence. Kelly thought the movie was over, but the tracker on the VCR said the tape was still playing.
After a short while, Kelly could hear something. It sounded like children whispering. She could not make out what they were saying. Kelly panicked when she noticed a dark picture slowly developing on the screen.
It was a photo of the little girl sitting on the edge of the bed again, secluded in darkness. This time, she was not crying.
She was staring straight at Kelly through the screen.
Her eyes were bloodshot from so much crying. The look on her face was of pure horror, her eyes calling out:
The only light in the girl’s bedroom seemed to be coming from the glow of Kelly’s television. The image was so clear, that they could have easily been sitting in the same room.
Kelly could hear the little girl crying again.
However, she was still glaring at her through the screen, not moving an inch.
As Kelly looked past the girl’s shoulder, she made out what appeared to be a faint set of crooked teeth fixed in a smile. The teeth appeared to be human, but were elongated and stretched out too wide to be from an actual person’s mouth.
Voices joined in like a maddening chorus. Voices of all kinds could be heard whispering:
“Off with her head…”
Over the next minute, the little girl’s crying and the voices grew louder and more hysterical. Kelly had to cover her ears.
Suddenly, everything fell silent. Her heart pounded as she uncovered her ears.
One final, deep voice said menacingly:
“Off with her head…”
Static flashed over the image for a fraction of a second. The picture began to move. The little girl’s head slowly fell forward as if she was going to cry again. It drooped lower and lower until…
it rolled right off her shoulders and onto the floor.
The instant her head fell off, her bloodcurdling scream filled the room as Kelly covered her ears in terror. She screamed as loud as she could until the video cut to static one last time and the ending credits of the movie started rolling.
Kelly could not speak. She was traumatized as she stared at the blank screen. By this time, it was 5:15 PM.
As Kelly slowly started to get up, she kept her eyes on the screen to make sure nothing else was going to show up on it.
Her concentration was broken by the sound of her doorbell ringing. She screamed and shot her head around to see her front door.
“Just breathe, Kelly. You are all right. Everything’s okay. Just relax.” Kelly collected herself, turned on the lights, then headed for the door.
“It’s just an early trick-or-treater.” Before opening the door, something told her to look through the peephole first. When she did, what she saw froze her.
On her doorstep was a little girl with her head down. She was wearing an Alice dress.
“Calm down, Kelly. You’re just a little freaked out from the movie. It’s only a kid in an Alice costume.” She grabbed the candy bowl and opened her front door. When she got ready to hand out the candy, she dropped the candy bowl in horror.
The little girl had vanished.
Kelly trembled terribly as she picked up the candy, put it all back into the bowl and slammed the door behind her.
“You have to relax. You’re just seeing things.” When she put the bowl back down on the kitchen table, the television cut to a loud static. Kelly screamed and turned towards the living room. Tears rolled down her face.
Written on the wall above the television in blood were the words:
OFF WITH YOUR HEAD
Kelly frantically tried to get out the front door.
The door was locked.
Suddenly, she could hear something clawing at the door violently like a bear. She looked through the peephole again.
She saw nothing but black.
As if a fuse broke, all the lights in her house went out at once. She was submerged in total darkness. She could see absolutely nothing. Except…
At the end of the narrow hallway, there was something near her bedroom door. It was…a faint set of gnarled teeth fixed in a smile. Kelly was paralyzed with fear.
The smile slowly floated towards Kelly. She tried to run away, but found herself unable to move. In a moment, the shadow monster was right in her face. She could smell the horrible stench of rotting flesh on its breath. It whispered to her:
“Off with your head…”
Later that same night, a girl by the name of Abby Lawrence had just finished trick-or-treating in her fairy costume. She was ten and her mother let her go by herself with her friends for the first time. She and her mother lived about a block away from Kelly. When she returned home, her mother gave her a big hug and helped her get ready for bed.
“Did you have fun trick-or-treating with your friends, Abby?”
“Yeah! My bag is full of candy. It will probably last me until next Halloween,” said Abby.
“I’m glad you had fun, sweetheart.”
“Hey mom. You’ve got to see this.” Abby ran to her bag of Halloween candy…
and pulled out a copy of Disney’s Alice in Wonderland on VHS.
“Where did you get that?” Her mother asked.
“One of the houses I went to had it in a candy bowl. The bowl was empty, but this movie was in it.” She could barely control her excitement.
“Can we watch it tonight? Pretty please?”
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-09-23 19:28:07
No one hardly lived in Virginia City, Montana. The population was below 200 and the name is an oxymoron. Internet service was poor, satellite never picked up a message there, and cable was completely unavailable. Mike never liked this place. Especially on Halloween. The city always took it too far, especially the mayor. He already announced that they would do a death celebration ceremony.
"Let death get us all!" they chanted out of Mike's window. He shook his head and tip-toed to the restroom. All the electricity is down to make the celebration "worth it" in the mayor's words.
Mike jumped and closed the bathroom door. It creaked louder than expected ,but Mike ignored it as he went to the door.
"Come on child! Let us in!" strangers laughed. Mike wished his mother would've stayed with him. He ran to his parent's room and saw the television flash on. The horror channel was playing on full volume. Mike screamed and kicked the TV down. It was still on and started rattling, even though the electricity was suppose to be off. Why must this happen to me Mike thought. He sprinted to his room, soon to find his door shut and locked.
"Give...in... ," someone breathed on Mike's neck. He shivered and closed his eyes, feeling cold, sharp finger nails crawl up from his cheek to his forehead. Mike slowly opened his eyes and saw a huge red clown poof out of existence.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Mike cried as he banged on his room's door. " LEAVE...ME...ALONEEEEH!!!" His vision became extremely blurry from tears. He wiped them away and saw a pink teddy bear in a white room.
"Hug me," it pleaded. Mike ,being 7, smiled and ran towards it. He stopped when the fur started to peel, revealing a robot. "Hug me." Mike shook his head and started walking backwards. "HUG ME!" The bear ran towards him. Mike shouted and ran away. His head smacked against a clear glass pane. He was suddenly tied up on a pole.
"Kill him!" a crowd chanted. Mike didn't respond, too tired of the torment. He attempted to free himself ,but the ropes just got tighter. An elderly man poured gasoline all around him. Mike spat in his direction, which landed on his nose. The man frowned and started pouring liquid labeled "Diethyl Ether" . Mike started to focus on three crying ladies holding hands walking towards him. He soon realized that it was evil laughter.
"La la. La la la la. Death shall, destroy you tonight. La la. La la la la," they whispered. Mike panicked when a man with a flaming torch ran towards him. The torch came in contact with the liquids and burst to flames. Mike cried so loud, he didn't realize it was his own voice until his vision blurred to darkness. All he saw was his town, almost zoomed out in the darkness. Mike zoomed into a stranger walking by. He made a streetlamp bend vigorously, frightening the man. The man ran away, screaming and hollering in an unknown language. Ever since, Mike haunted Virginia City, Montana for their wickedness and torture towards him. At first, Michael thought it was all a dream ,but he never woke up. Anyone who makes a trip there will never be the same again. If you listen close enough at 3 A.M, the time he died, you may even hear Mike's cry as the flames engulfed his soul. Stay up too late and you will see Mike crying at the corner of your sight, vanishing if you change your focus to something else.
Loose Planks For Grabby Hands
"Where are we going?", Senan said with his bewildered signals of innuendo.
"First to the coastal, besides, the fireworks will start only later the evening", I replied. We crossed wooden bridges raised upward of slimy swamps, open caves and never beyond the path.
"Look! A group of Ring Kneck Ducks, with babies!" Ruarc screamed, he was so excited that he forgot we were clustered in an invisible rectangle. "Shut up! Why did we even bother taking this childish brazen, this bastard is going to blast everything to hell!", Senan couldn't hold himself anymore. Ruarc frowned and spoke "I'm the bastard here, god, astonishing animals at their natural inhabitants. Sorry I have shown inappropriate affection but I advise you to alter your comments or I'll alter my approach!"
Diarmaid, Senan's loyal subject, always defends him, usually in this types of situations he jumps and adheres his master's decisions. Probably he isn't even listening. He is looking at something, a human? "I see someone", Diarmaid finally whispered. "What", Senan yelled. "I see a human silhouette in the woods, also it's approximately closer than before" Everyone accepted without saying a word to rearrange the group, the rectangle got smaller. We heard sticks and dry leaves rupture under a pressure of someone in a hurry. Abruptly Senan started running for his life, after him so did Diarmaid, Ruarc and I.
"There is the plane", Ruarc mentioned. The plane was busted, it was an ancient yellow and white floatplane. "The engine has been torn apart, someone wracked this plane with...vines? Are you sure this plane is your dad's?"
I wanted to believe this plane was his, yet all the baggage is flipped over and vines grew around it, assuming that vines can't grow in a day this plane isn't his. I wanted to continue investigating the area but the evidence was missing, no footprints, fabric, processed food, or other junk humans leave behind.
"Let's climb the damn hill already". We went off the path like Senan suggested, for a shortcut. No lights nor a direction to follow, we strolled in the dark woods, hoping a mountain will appear. I still hear the rupture from before, it didn't stop.
All of a sudden we heard loud moaning and groaning, followed by inhuman screams. Assuming that everyone kept going for the same reason I did, we were hypnotized by the crying voice.
"It sounds like an animal!", Ruarc started jogging to the source of the voice. As he jogged we increased our speed to match his. Few hundreds of steps later an old wooden cabin was spat out from the ground. Instead of a roof, there was a hole and the trees around the cabin were chopped off creating space for light to enter.
Ruarc already was stumbling to open with his bare hands an entrance to the cabin, his love for animals especially hurt ones was indescribable. As soon as Diarmaid arrived he helped Ruarc remove the planks to open a gap in the decayed wall of the cabin. After a little struggle, they succeeded.
Written By Anthony Grig
Loose Planks For Grabby Hands
Immediately Ruarc entered the wood cabin by himself, he was silent for a few tedious moments. The three of us didn't dare to think of entering the hole in the wall.
Finally, Ruarc talked, "Guys.. the sounds weren't coming from an animal, it was a human. There are even files lit under a heavy flashlight on the cupboard, they have lots of information about that, thing"
Slowly all of us assembled around the human, who lost all humanity. He was tied to a steel chair, rein equipment was scattered all around his body involving leather belts, duct tape, the same vines from before, some kind of blue liquid and a ski mask covering all of his face. It was dark but I could have sworn he had desaturated purple skin and his hands were falling off, vines were sprouting flowers which came out of his mouth and they strangled him as he screamed. All of his body hair dropped off in a pile around him, a dark tone of brown, like my hair. All the skin and the fat of his legs were pilled off, only a chunk of muscles was left. Fathers were growing around his body as of a young bird's.
"This dude's name was Neil Laognaire, he was working here, it is written in marker that he was an asshole lab assistant and a horrible boyfriend" Ruarc's words were thrown too fast for my ears to consume. Although it caught my attention. My dad secretly worked at a lab in a cabin surrounded only by trees. "He! He was my dad!" Everyone raised their eyebrows in surprise and Ruarc said, "We need to continue reading! He isn't going to be cured by despair. maybe a cure was written somewhere" I nodded, thinking of running to a quiet place to cry at.
"Ok, don't touch the blue liquid. It was injected into the guy and I don't think we're immune. It transforms him into a plant by injecting artificial absorbing blobs into the circulation of the body, they will slowly suck all blood cells from the human and replace them with regular pine tree cells. The human's brain will stop working properly and then will dry out. Because the person is suffering he will try to hunt other humans to eat for more human cells in order to slow down the transformation and lower the pain levels. I don't think a cure was made"
Suddenly Ruarc was falling slowly onto the dirty ground, a poisonous dart hit him. The smell of the dart was of toxic acid. I looked through the hole in the roof and saw the silhouette from before. It was a lady, she wore a blue lab coat covering a dress made out of animal skin, no wonder why the animals were missing. Her head was round as a volleyball and bald too, dark green veins pumping out on her skin and some vines were coming out of her hands, they were dancing as she could control them with her mind.
After my short speculation of the woman, I looked back, at my friends and Senan was running away from here while Diarmaid was on his knees in front of Ruarc's body. "Hey, Diarmaid we need to go now!" He listened and walked to the gap we created earlier.
I didn't wait and escaped long before he did. While he was crouching and preparing to get out of the cabin vines were moving in a swirl around his neck. He was grabbed and was raised upward. A fully transformed purple mutant was choking him. I screamed at him, trying to distract him but he was sophisticated at his prey. I knew he was gone, So we walked away. When I took a glance behind me, half of Diarmaid's body was eaten.
An escape, we wanted it so badly, however, the way back was blocked by the purple pine trees. "Let's return to the plane, I am sure a lighter is somewhere there, my father was a heavy smoker. we can burn with it the forest and wait in the water for firefighters to rescue us" It was my only idea. "I agree, only if we will go through the woods. The trees will go through there and the main path is a lot longer" Senan was right.
I was shaking, thinking about vines grabbing my throat.
We ran endlessly and jumped over obstacles until our hearts were shrinking from the effort. A beam of light was flashing at our eyes. There were belongings pouring out of a backpack. A diary was open and Niel Laognaire was written on the back of it. I took the diary and read it out loud with the flashlight I picked it up without asking Senan. "Entry #206- HOME. I just wrote to bonnie about my holiday. I don't know if she tru.."
"We need to go! Now!" I nodded to Senan but kept reading the diary while grabbing my father's belongings and then walking at a decent speed.
My father wasn't apart of an army, no surprise here, he wasn't shown in uniform on any photograph ever. He was excited to help earth evolve and become himself a tree god or something like that.
His final line was "I know I'm just paranoid but I can't trust anyone, even myself", weird to not trust yourself. Luckily he mentioned in the entry that he brought some firearms just in case the bald woman will betray him.
"Wait, just now I realized we already have the weapons to fight with" We stopped and I pulled a flare gun and gave a blue flamethrower to Senan from the bag. Senan and I went back to the path towards the exit, no one was there. We walked anxiously, preparing for a fight.
Yet, no enemies. When we got out of the woods we were handcuffed. "You're under arrest for starting a forest fire and kidnapping your friends, now throw your weapons down at the ground and lie down!" I looked at the forest, while I was searched. A smoke was visible from afar and sparks of flames were lighting the dark night.
She probably was a heavy smoker too.
Written By Anthony Grig
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-06 22:58:22
At 8/29/17 03:56 PM, TomFulp wrote: This thread is for creepy / scary / Halloween-themed stories that would like to participate in our Halloween Spooktacular!
Entries must be posted by October 31st and the best piece will receive $100. Judging will be by @Fro!
Any comments and/or questions should be posted in the comments thread.
The full moon peeks out from behind a thick, white cloud of misery, casting the whole world in a horrible, bone-white glow. We can see the dead leaves that litter the hard-packed dirt. They float along the ground on the cool breeze until getting swept up and away to be caught in the dark, twisting hedges of the maze. Some lay, waiting their turn, at the base of the greenery.
Our footsteps echo off of the surrounding walls as we make our way down corridor after corridor. It’s like something from a dystopian novel. A very Dashner-esque rendition of oppression and doom, mixed with Rowling-level magic and King-like creeps. I’m ready for a red balloon to zip by us, showing the path to our blood sucking death.
We keep walking. My hand is wrapped tightly around the leash that holds my fat, ugly dog. We call him Sausage. Or Saucy for short, but that’s not his real name. He’s got one of those squished in faces with the teeth that stick out eight inches from his head and a stubby tail that doesn’t actually exist. It results in a horrible habit of ‘The Butt Wiggle’ which is his version of being happy about people. Like when dogs wag their tail? Yeah. Sausage just shakes his butt, then probably pees on your foot, and then shakes his butt some more.
We come to a curved wall with three doors leading to certain doom. Everyone stops. Sausage happily flops himself down on the ground like he’s just got done competing in the dog version of Tough Mudder. I’m surprised that he isn’t in better shape. I’m legally blind without my dorky glasses so he’s technically my seeing-eye dog even though he sucks at the job. The point is, though, I drag him everywhere with me. His stubby legs should be able to handle a few more miles of walking.
“Which one?” Alfie asks.
I don’t feel like standing around and gawking all day so in a moment’s rash decision making, I choose the door on the far right and slam it shut behind us.
The crack punctuates the air in one strike of sound until the hedges swallow up the noise, efficiently plunging us into silence. The world gets impossibly darker, only a thin sliver of moonlight spills down into the corridor. I squint to see the end, but either there is no end or the darkness is too thick for me to spot the next turn.
An ear splitting screech penetrates the space above our heads and I swear to god and all things mighty, Alfie screams like a wild fangirl and latches onto my arm so that I can protect him. His eyes are squeezed shut because he has no intention whatsoever of fighting back against anything that may or may not potentially attack him.
“Mason!” Alfie hisses. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Alfie, whisper-yelling doesn’t make your voice any quieter,” I point out. “It just makes you more annoying.”
“Well it makes me feel better, Mace, and since I’m stuck in this fucking place with you for the rest of my life I need to feel as comfortable as I can.”
I turn, “Are you actually scared that we’re going to die in here?”
Alfie nods sincerely and I roll my eyes at his dramatics. If only Alfie gave me more credit. I mean an orange belt in Judo isn’t super important, but it’s better than pissing yourself in the corner while you wait for gooey jaws to tear you apart limb from limb.
The maze leads to the right and starts sloping downwards. It’s so dark that I can barely see anything and soon I’m barely stepping on air quite rapidly. Stones litter the ground, leaves slippery with fog take my feet out from under me. Boom! Butt, meet ground. I hope you two become great friends because I’m going to be feeling that for the next six weeks.
Alfie’s screaming his head off beside me, flailing his arms like they can stop him from the people-eating maze. We bounce down and down and down, the hill getting steeper the more we fall. This is why roller coasters have seat belts. Do mazes have seat belts? No. No they don’t. Why not? Because fuck you, that’s why.
The fall becomes infinitely less fun when, at the bottom, I find not the floor, but a brick fucking wall. I think my skull splits in two with the impact, as well as the rest of my body. Alfie runs right into me, sending his dense ass head right into my sternum. I fall to pieces at the bottom of the wall.
“Sorry,” Alfie groans, but I don’t have the capacity to respond. I watch him sit up and gingerly test his arms. His forehead glistens with blood, but he doesn’t seem to care. “You okay?” Alfie asks.
I nod. Something in my hand is buzzing. A dull pain that grows infinitely by the second. I force my stiff fingers to open, finding them bloodily wrapped around the fabric part of Saucy’s leash.
I jolt to my feet, ignoring the aches and pains that scream in protest, “Saucy!” I call, scanning the darkness.
“Oh shit,” Alfie mutters under his breath, “Saucy! Here boy!”
A small Saucy-shaped dark spot lays a few feet up the slope, caught in the tangled branches of a gnarled tree. Alfie spots it a second before me and he starts scrambling up the slope to retrieve him. I follow suit, my feet slipping hopelessly on the muddy leaves.
Something is dripping from his body. I tell myself that it’s not blood, its not blood, its not blood, but it is. That’s Saucy’s blood.
“Get the fuck away from my meal,” a voice says. It’s like shards of glass scraping against a chalkboard. Like hail the size of golf balls. It makes me shudder, it makes me cringe, it makes me regret coming into this fucking maze.
I freeze instantly. My body screams at me to run far away, to sprout wings and fly, to do something. Alfie continues up the slope. He didn’t hear the voice. He doesn’t feel wet hands all over his body, he can’t taste the rotting breath that crashes against my neck. He can’t hear the teeth snapping, he doesn’t know that the fingernails are digging in, he doesn’t know true fear like I do in this moment.
I want to say something. I need to warn Alfie. Tell him to get the fuck out of dodge. Mission Impossible his way over the brick wall.
But I can’t. A hand covers my mouth, something dripping down onto my chest.
“Alfie,” the creature sings. Then, more urgently, as if it’s getting impatient, “Alfie turn around.” I’m shaking in my spot as Alfie twists. My eyes glue themselves shut, a hand trails across my shoulder as the creature makes its way to stand in front of me. “Open your eyes, Mason.” I shake my head. If I opened my eyes right now I’d probably shit myself. “MASON.”
I force my heavy lids apart and tell myself that the thing in front of me isn’t real. Even though the maze was five bucks, even though Saucy is dead, even though no amount of makeup could make something look this terrifying. It’s not real. The more I deny it, the less it’s true.
And even the teeth that grin at me, the stench of breath, the blood-covered hands, is fake. Nothing’s real. Nothing’s real.
Saucy’s body breaks free of whatever had him tangled up before. I watch as he slides down the rest of the slope.
He doesn’t thud against the wall. Instead I hear a crunch. A groan of satisfaction. A snap that resonates through my bones and punctures my very soul.
“The dog doesn’t even need sauce. He’s tasty enough without it.”
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-16 15:16:24
Hey @fro this shows up in the game portal but if it could be considered for the writing contest instead that would be totally rad :D
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-20 00:43:44
"I can't do this," I told him again and again that i couldn't shoot him. I mean he's a friend of mine how could I? The only problem is the one telling me to shoot the guy is my lifelong friend. Also the 4 other people in the room whom he decided to bring along too. "Just shoot him man, he's going to get it either way, or would you rather that be you?" He reapeated to me countless times but it doesn't change my mind there's absolutely no way i can do it. Then, as if a snake slowly making its way into my mind, there was a whisper coming from the other 4 "shoot him, shoot him, shoot him." It got louder and louder until it was practically a shrill scream ringing directly in my ears. I shuddered and squirmed in utter agony, I couldn't take much more of this constant god damn screaming. If I had more bullets I would shoot them all and be done. But, no of course not. He only gave me one and i knew what would happen if i didn't shoot the poor guy. "Jesus Christ shut up, *shut up*! You all want him dead so badly? Here I'll do it!" I jump to my feet feel the cold steel of the gun in my hand. It feels heavier, only for a second as it fires and then silence. Peaceful, deafening silence. "In recent news, a local schizophrenic man has been found dead. The apparent cause of death is suicide by a handgun wound to the forehead. The man had apparently left a pseudo-suicide note by his door right before he shot himself. The note was a paper doll that had a person sketched onto it with the words 'Just shoot him man, he's going to get it either way, or would you rather it be you?' The man sketched on the paper could not be identified by the victims family as anyone he had ever been seen with. Thank you that concludes this evenings news."
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-21 17:18:19
Why a girl ran into a forest
The girl ran for the cat into the forest.
She looked around, it was dark, even though moon shone brighter than the brightest star. Stumbling she ran - ran after a black cat in the night. The night of all nights, the night when darkness meets light. Thus it was the time of the year when the opposite of good was nearest our plane, and at times seeped into our land. It was the All hallows’ eve - or was it the all saints’ eve? The eve that ended when the eve become a day, when the night become day - darkness become light. The girl stopped, the cat was gone.
--The eve - the day, one moment we’re here and the next there.
The eve - the day, a night when dark meets light.
The eve - the day, only one who moves between both.
--The man who brings light, can’t stand true light.
An ominous feeling spread through the forest. Was that a hum? She looked around, lost and scared. A branch was broken, and she ran.
She bruised herself, as she stumbled around - she scratched herself, as what was around her didn’t seem to want her to go forward. Suddenly she saw light, and ran to not let her own light out. The night seemed to go wild - it didn't want to let her go. A few meters become miles, as she continued on her panicked strife. Shadows grew darker, and the quiet night was now in a quarrel. Sounds were heard - or was it only her heart? She reached the light, as she gave the dark a final strike. Stumbled into the light, blind for a second or two. She wasn’t alone though - there was a man. Not a man, but still a man. A man - the pumpkinman. The man who shine in the night.
--The pumpkinman, the man who isn’t a man.
The pumpkinman, the man who walk the path between paths.
The pumpkinman, the man who dwell in darkness and light.
--A judger of two worlds, thus he belong - as well as not to them both.
He turned around to the girl - he was tall. Taller than any man, but then again he wasn’t a man. His head was a pumpkin with a large carved smile and eyes like half moons laying on the ground.
-Hello, who are you?
The man looked the girl in the eyes, and she stared back. Her eyes big with wonder, thus she’d never before seen man with light coming out out of his eyes. Nor one with a head of a pumpkin. With a couple of long steps she walked toward to the man, grabbing his hand and pointed her other out to the dark a bit of everywhere. A good strategy I thought for myself.
“Well yes… Why did I follow her out here? Stupid me!”
A smile that physically shouldn’t be able to stretch did just so, and the pumpkinman raised a hand. He pointed into the forest. The girl’s eyes shone with light, and what was left of her panicked self seemed to finally be gone.
He took a step forward, still holding the little girl’s hand, and so their way home began. It wasn’t long, but it’d felt like she’d gone miles. They stood at the edge to civilization, not moving - knowing that this was goodbye. The man with a pumpkin head looked down at the girl. She had bruises, some new, but many were old. My thoughts wandered how she had gotten them. The girl noticed his stare and looked down on the ground. He - the pumpkinman seemed to be calm. Though his now red red shining light seemed to tell another tale. I felt how my stomach turned upside down.
I jumped. Dammit, I thought for myself as I looked to my right to see the cat. It was about ten meters away from me, further into the forest. The girl she’d also heard, and tried to go after it. The pumpkinman stopped her, holding her hand tightly, as he locked eyes with the girl and shook his head. I mused for myself - what would the other say when I told them about this? And Pumpkin being at the center of it all? I creeped closer to the forest end. I’m not typically scared of the night, or the forest, but considering what day it was today I was a bit on the edge. The girl let go of the man’s hand and walked forward a couple of meters, till she stood in the light of the street lights. She raised her arm and waved back to the carrier of light - he answering by doing the same.
Then she ran back to what follows the norm and the pumpkinman shone even brighter.
--The judger - the pumpkin judger, he knows both worlds thus he sees them both.
The judger - the pumpkin judger, he’s the one, and only one understands them both.
The judger, the pumpkin judger, he see your deeds, and your faults both.
--The man who both dark and light fears.
Was that someone humming? I looked back but couldn’t see anything - it was dark, too dark. Feeling as the panic started to rise, I started to walk toward the civilization. If I reached it I knew I would be safe, if I reached it all would be okay. Light. The light is the key, where light is darkness can’t.
--The man of all men, which is respected of all.
It was definitely someone closeby who was humming - but who? I looked back but saw nothing but a stray black cat.
--The man of all men, which is the saver of those who dwell in the darkness.
I looked forward, oh how I longed to be back home. The ground was hard to see, but even with a cat’s eyes it for a mere human would be hard to navigate. Stumbling forward I raised my eyes again towards my goal. My goal was blocked, blocked by a man. The pumpkin man. We started into each other eyes - well I into his, he went beyond my eyes into my soul. I for a second froze, but then continued at a higher speed.
--The man of all men, which is the doomer of those who akt through darkness.
The man never let go of my eyes, and I couldn’t if I tried. Still I heard the hum clearer than ever, it closed in, but I didn’t know who it was. His head was changing now, the man’s head was turning around. Gone was his smiling smile and half moon eyes, in it’s place a pair of round open holes as eyes - his mouth now gone. I forced myself to break his gaze and looked back, trying to find the one who hymned.
--A man to be feared, …
As I looked back, the only living thing to be seen was the cat.
--…as long as you follow his verdicts.
My eyes grew wide, it was the cat. The cat was the one who hymned. Though he was soon become something else than a cat. He was changing, getting bigger and then he up stood on his two back paws. Then they straightened and in moments the cat had become a man - a man of shadows, who belonged in shadows and was created by shadows. A thing of darkness, who for an eve walked the plane freely. A smug smile tainted his face.
--The one, he’s the greatest creation of all.
I couldn’t keep looking back - looking back couldn’t help me now. It wouldn’t serve a purpose. Sure if I hadn’t done that I wouldn’t be here, but didn’t change what was about to happen. Looking forward I ran.
--The one, he’s the one who sees it all.
She - the little girl, was the reason I’m here. Still it is my fault… I looked up yet again, this time trying to not get eye contact with the man with a pumpkinhead. Pumpkin… Hadn’t it been a fitting name? To us it was because she was odd - a crooked smile girl… The little girl was scared, but cared for a cat. A cat which we mocked her about. In the end it ran out in the forest - the girl ran after, and stupid me followed.
--The one, he’s one of a kind between us all.
No, don’t think, just run - contemplate your life later. The light seemed to disappear, like it was sucked up and simultaneously the darkness seemed to grow. That shouldn’t be possible, maybe it was all a trick of the mind. It was most possible considering the circumstances, still everything was everything but normal this night.
--The pumpkinman he’s unable to speak,…
Accidentally I looked up, my eyes immediately were drawn to the carrier of light’s. The were bright, they were burning - they were sucking up all light that there possible was. Everything started to disappear, thus he was taking my world piece by piece. Till there were no more that I could, and ever would see. My world had become a night, one which never would end. I closed my eyes, knowing this was the end - all I could do was to take my farewells.
--...but he sees your all, thus he can help or dom what you are.
She lit a match and held it between her thumb and index finger tightly. She watched it with intent, as it burned all the way down to her skin, before casually dropping it onto the cold metal table.
"Caucasian female, about six years of age. Brown hair, brown eyes. No identification. Will not communicate with officers. Found alone at approximately 0300 hours near 6th and 14th Street."
All she had on her was a book of matches.
"What kind of six year old has matches?
.....What kind of six year old is all alone in the abandoned part of the city at three a.m.?"
Officer Nate Edwards poured a second cup of coffee and settled in across the table from the tiny girl who was lighting another match.
For a busy station on a Monday morning, the silence in the room was thick and surrounded the officer and his young Jane Doe.
"Do you watch tv--um--cartoons? My little pony? Barbie?"
He stuttered through friendly questions. He didn't have kids of his own, and didn't know a damn thing about little girls. Does Barbie even have a cartoon?
He collected his thoughts, but it was no matter, as the girl ignored him and lit another match.
Five burnt sticks laid on the table in front of her and enough smoke filled the air that Nate feared triggering the smoke alarms.
"Can you tell me about your parents? Mom? Dad?"
"Do you go to school? How is school?"
This was the break he had been waiting for.
She hesitated when he asked about school. She didn't light another match.
Nate fired off a text to obtain yearbooks from all local elementary schools.
He took a sip of his coffee, now cold, and sat down next to the silent girl.
"You know, if someone is bothering you at school, I can protect you."
He expected her to cry. To tell him who hurt her and how she ended up alone at three in the morning.
Instead, she stared straight ahead. No more matches. No eye contact. Nothing.
Silence for what seemed like eternity.
The door to the room opened two or three inches and a female officer beckoned Nate into the hall.
"Hey I got those yearbooks, so you can work on an ID"
"BUT in doing so, learned that there was a fire at Crestview Elementary, reported and responded to around 0700, when the janitors arrived. I know your new friend has matches. Might be nothing, just letting you know."
Nate returned to his task, yearbooks in hand, and decided to start with Crestview's.
He fixed his gaze on the little girl's eyes as he began flipping through.
"Crestview Elementary. Kindergarten"
No signs of any emotion.
"Crestview Elementary. First grade."
There we go.
He found her photo, a huge smile, hair curled into shiny locks---a stark comparison to the dirty, tired little thing before him.
For the first time all morning, she lifted her gaze, and her eyes met his.
"There was a fire at your school. Do you know how that happened?"
She slid the matches across the table to Nate unapologetically.
"Did someone help you?"
Two slow shakes of her head.
With a name he was able to find contact information, and by this time, a couple nearby had woken up to find their little girl missing, her window open, a ladder leading down to the grass below. By time they reached the station to report her gone, the interrogation was over.
Nate met with them about what had happened. They were shaky and nervous, but oddly routine in the way they were handling the situation.
The fire would be investigated, and if it were truly arson, Olivia would go to juvenile court.
There was a confession. She snuck out. This was open and shut. Clean paperwork. A social worker would be assigned to her.
And it was only ten o'clock. Nate could grab brunch at his favorite local cafe. He made his way across the street and bobbed in, the aroma of coffee awakening his senses. Truth be told, he wasn't there for coffee, as much as he loved and needed it, but to admire the ass of one of the waitresses he fancied, when she leaned over tables. No sooner than he'd stared down her loose blouse and placed his order, did he get a text.
"Respond to Crestview Elementary, suspicious death"
Someone had died in the fire?
Nate shook his head and talked out loud to himself.
“That poor girl accidentally killed someone. This isn’t open and shut anymore.”
Krissy sauntered over to his table to refill his coffee and purposely brushed her breasts against his arm, working for a bigger tip.
“Sorry dear, I have to run. Cancel my order.”
He slammed a ten dollar bill onto the pale yellow counter and took off.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-23 22:26:01
Arriving at the elementary school, it was clear the fire claimed most of the main building. The front office was a charred skeleton with nothing salvageable left.
Other officers were standing around, as if waiting just for Nate.
The principal’s office was roped off in crime tape.
Nosy reporters were being held at bay by a sassy forensics investigator who wasn’t taking shit from anyone.
“Y’all may as well go the hell on, you ain’t getting nothing. You ain’t seeing nothing.”
“Ma’am, what can we tell the public?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you tell the public, ain’t my problem, but you step past that tape, YOU gonna have a problem.”
Nate stepped over the yellow barrier and watched his feet in the still smoldering office.
“So the principal came up to do some extra work at the wrong time and got caught in the fire eh?”
The two officers nearby looked at each other and remained silent.
Nate made it to the interior of the front office, locating the principal’s.
Nate had seen some shit in his career.
Double homicide? Seen it. Triple homicide? Seen it. Murder Suicide? Seen it.
Men dead. Women dead. Kids dead. Babies dead.
He was pretty numb to it all.
But as he entered the room and began to take in the situation, he felt his stomach churn and worked aggressively to keep his morning’s coffee down.
The principal’s head was severed—a clean cut—but charred to beyond recognition and tossed haphazardly in the wastebasket near what used to be the door.
The metal filing cabinet remained, and while all the papers once protected inside were now ash, each drawer contained an additional severed body part.
His arm draped the top drawer.
A foot lopped off at the ankle in the second.
What remained of his pelvis and manhood in the bottom drawer.
All ten fingers neatly removed and stapled to the wall, or what was left of it.
It appeared his desk was used for the dismemberment, as charred entrails littered it and assorted body parts surrounded it on the floor.
The bulk of his torso remained slumped in his swivel chair.
Something was hanging from the ceiling fan, and while the fire made it difficult to tell, it appeared to be his intestines.
The fire was a cover up.
How on earth did she manage this?
He looked around for candles---surely this was a Satanic ritual gone wrong. The candles started the fire, not a little girl with a book of matches.
Nate was glued to his phone as he sped back to the station.
“Olivia Petrov. Parents, Alex and Diana. Physical address now, send backup.”
Dispatch got him an address as he made sharp U-turn, apologizing to the vehicles honking and waving middle fingers.
Nate knew the little girl couldn’t have done this. She was covering for mom and dad….or someone. So he waited for his backup to arrive.
Swat stormed the house, and Nate rushed in, gun drawn, ready to take down the twisted animals who did this.
The house was empty.
It was apparent the family had left quickly, but they were gone for good. Most belongings gone. A speedy exodus.
A fellow officer called Nate’s name. “Next door neighbor, little old lady. Saw it go down. Come chat with her.”
Nate walked outside and slowly approached the frail woman holding a small dog wearing tiny sunglasses.
“I knew they were trouble. I knew it. I told Harold. He told me to stop being nosy but I knew it.”
“Hello ma’am. My name is Officer Nate Edwards. I am looking for the family that used to live here. What can you tell me about Alex and Diana?”
The woman shifted her glasses and the dog seemed to follow suit.
“Oh Alex and Diana were fine I guess, a little paranoid. But that kid! They were from some other country you know, and Diana told me they kept moving, because that little girl kept getting kicked out of school. I guess she got kicked out of this one too! Probably not doing her work and talking in class…. Such a little trouble maker. Always in my yard and poking my cats with sticks. Good riddance!”
Nate smiled. “Thank you ma’am.”
The little old lady hollered for her husband. “Harold, I told you!” as she hobbled back toward her house. Her lap dog yipped in agreement.
Nate walked back into the Petrov home and up to Olivia’s room.
Most of her belongings were gone.
Another book of matches lay on her bed.
Nate turned to leave, ready to give this one over to the forensics team so he could start the massive amount of paperwork he needed to do, when he spied a coloring book open, on the floor.
Written in red crayon, “He was still alive when I started cutting.”
Nate wondered if it was too late in the evening to see Krissy for a cup of coffee.
Attention! It's LONG and probably boring as hell. I've warned you.
The book of stories
(intro and story 1 of 7)
Edgar Tull has been working in “Lost and Found” office of the train station for many years, and it was hard to surprise him with rarity or value of items people can forget in a rush of catching their train. Yet he had to admit that THIS was the moist strange and probably most expensive thing he’d ever held in his hands. It made the fact that it wasn’t stolen but instead brought into his office even more surprising. Edgar put on his thick glasses to have a closer look. The book was big. Not a pocket tome you can by in a station store, not a thin magazine to distract you from a boredom of long journey. The clerk’s fingers, crooked and red from arthritis, touched the book cover, and it felt as delicate and tender as a woman’s body can be. A book covered in skin… Interesting. Edgar thought, his gaze shifted to metal plates of intricate shape that held corners of the book cover and also formed its title. A dull and somewhat heavy glistening it shown in the light of a lamp could only belong to one metal. Mr Tull gulped and whistled. Golden plates, skin cover. This book must cost a lot. Edgar opened the book with a trembling hand, and gulped again. The paper… Whoever printed this book, they made the paper look like it was ancient. It looked ancient. It felt ancient. It smelled ancient. Mr. Tull wiped a sweat from his forehead. This book must cost whole damn lot. What a fool will bear it around and leave like this somewhere on a bench? The heavily sweating man closed the book and ran his fingers on the plates that formed the title once again. “The Laments of Purgatory” it said. “Must be interesting.” Edgar thought. He touched the plates once more. “I’ll just read it, that’s it. Only reading, nothing more.” And so he opened the book and started reading.
First story – Envy
This story began in a small café located not so far from some big movie-making studio.
“Don’t you think it’s unfair?” A tall blonde woman complained, showing her friend a smartphone display. There was a photo of a smiling woman holding some kind of award, obviously related to movies. The woman on the photo looked very much alike the smartphone owner.
“You put it like she won an Oscar. She isn’t a bad actress, at least for some not-so-important kind of award. And what exactly do you call “unfair”, Liz?” Lazily replied her friend, a bronze-tanned brunette girl.
“I’ve done half of her work on that role; - Liz puffed out her more than attractive chest. “This was an action film, and who did all the risky scenes? Me! Damn, I even played in bedroom scene, just because producer, probably her lover, forbade her to do it herself.”
“You’ve been paid for this, haven’t you?” This was true, but Liz frowned anyway.
“I still don’t like it. Why should she be all nice, pure and happy there when others do a hard work for her?”
A few days after this talk took place, a newly-awarded rising film star Ashley Breeze invited all the movie crew to her house to celebrate their great success. However, this soon turned into a disaster – a sudden fire started in the middle of the party. When it was defeated, Ashley Breeze was found dead in her room. From what police officers managed to find, she probably fell asleep with a lighted cigarette in her hand and that caused the fire.
Fortunately for producers (who already started another movie with her), one of the stunt team actresses, Liz Vice, looked really alike with the deceased Ashley, so they offered her to complete Ashley’s job. The result turned out to be quite successful and Liz even received some offers to try out some other roles, now as her and not as a part of a stunt team. She was considering these offers while walking home under a darkening winter sky when someone called for her. Or, rather, not her.
“Oh, what an unexpected luck! Miss Breeze, may I please have your autograph?”
The one who mistook Liz for her predecessor was an average-looking young man in glasses who’s face showed such a bright happiness that Liz couldn’t help but smiled back. However, she had to disappoint him.
“I’m sorry… I’m not Ashley Breeze, we just look alike. I’m Liz, I was her backup. Didn’t you know that she’d died a few months back?”
The man’s smile suddenly changed. It was still gentle and bright, but for some reason it now paralyzed Liz with unreasonable fear.
“Oh no, dear Ashley.” The man said, waving his hand. “I can’t mistake you for anyone else. Especially since I know of your trick.”
“My… trick? What are you talking about?” Liz tried to put all her actress talent into these words, and when the strange man tilted his head and looked at her curiously she hoped that it worked, but he laughed.
“Oh, you are such a brilliant actress, Ashley, the best in the world. You could’ve even convinced me. But you know… The fact is that I KNOW that you are Ashley. I know what you did that night.”
“Who are you?” Liz (or Ashley?) whispered, desperately trying to force at least one muscle of her body to move, to release herself from this man’s eerie gaze and smile.
“Oh, my name won’t ring any bells in your memory, dear, but I was always nearby. As a journalist, as a repair man, even as your security guard, humbly being beside you to silently help in anything you’ll need. And I know what happened that night. I remember it so clearly. You talked to that girl, Liz in your room, remember? She started complaining that you haven’t earned this award and that she is more worth it and some other ranting. And you replied “You know I’m actually envious of you. You are an actress but when you are not on the stage, you are free. No responsibilities, no need to please your producer, no nasty paparazzi, no fake smiles at boring parties, nothing of this sort. I’d really like to be like you instead of all this awards.” That girl laughed you off, calling you spoiled and other nonsense. She was seriously drunk by that time and she soon fell asleep right in your room. Remember what happened then?”
Ashley was trembling and crying, but she still couldn’t move even a finger, and she could barely talk already.
“You’ve looked at her for some time and then you’ve changed clothes with her, lighted a cigarette and put it into her fingers. You looked alike enough, and of course no one suspected that a famous actress will change places with a stunt team member. But I’ve hear your pleas.” The man’s smile got even wider and Ashley noticed something blinking coldly in his hand. “Now that I know that you seek freedom, I’ll fulfill your wish and free you.”
With a knife in his hand the man stepped close to Ashley, whispering in her ear while stabbing her.
“I’ll free you from all the burdens of this world, my dear. May your soul, mortally poisoned with envy, wait for mine in Hell.”
These were the last words Ashley Breeze had heard in her life. Even though she went so far as killing a person and taking their life for herself, she still met her fate, her own fate, brought upon her not by someone she envied but by herself.
Response to Halloween 2017 Writing Contest 2017-10-24 06:35:39
The book of stories
(stories 2 and 3 of 7)
Second story – Wrath.
There once lived a man. An ordinary one, almost unremarkable, but he did have something special about him. He was always so absolutely calm. Nothing could make him angry, irritated, no one ever heard him snapping at people or giving up even in most difficult situations. Because of that he was valued among his colleagues – though it wasn’t rare that he was finally given unpleasant tasks that others refused to do. His calm nature also helped him in his family life, for, you know, women tend to speak before thinking, but this man easily withstood all the family quarrels and conflicts. He had no special interest or preferences; he never showed an interest to expensive clothes or other luxuries. He just lived his life in this calm way – until one day he bought a pet. A little puppy he called Wrath. Unfortunately, no one paid any attention to this strange name, but it’s natural for people. So this man went on with his calm life year by year. Same job with his colleagues abusing his inability to avoid difficult tasks, and moderate salary. Same family life with more and more frequent conflicts that mostly ended with him apologizing for something he never did. But there was a bright thing in his life now – Wrath. The man really cared about the dog, bought some books and started to train him – and the puppy slowly grew up into impressive, big and strong dog, that, however, fully obeyed his master’s words. The terrible day started with a small quarrel over a small cause – one of those you can’t remember an hour later. The quarrel ended as always – with a man gently calming his wife and apologizing. After that he went for a walk with his dog. Suddenly his dog noticed something interesting and ran forward – and the man realized that his dog became so strong he can’t hold him anymore, so he had to run along with him, and when he tried to grab the dog by the collar, it almost bit his hand. When the dog finally stopped, the man looked at him silently… and undid the collar, letting the dog go. Then he returned home. His wife welcomed him, but the words of apologies stuck in her throat. Something was wrong with her husband. He was breathing heavily, his forehead was covered with sweat, but the most frightening were his eyes – glowing with an emotion she never imagined to see in them. Hatred. Before she could say anything, she felt something hitting her and fell on her back. And her husband was above her, with those terrible eyes and hands twisted in a strange way. And once again she didn’t manage to say anything – the man’s fingers hit her neck hard, fingers plunging deep in her skin, pressure crushing her throat. But still she tried to say something. Were those cries of fear, pleas for help, or apologies to her husband – no one will ever know, and the man hitting her could hear nothing until her body stopped moving. The next day, when no one from their jobs could contact the family, the police broke the door – and found a terrible scene. Everything in the house was broken, torn apart and covered with blood. In one of the rooms they found a woman lying in a pool of her own blood. Her beautiful face was clean, but right below it was a terrible wound, so deep that her spine was visible. The other room was also turned into a bloody mess, and there was a man’s corpse – with similar wound in his neck. The police first presumed that the dog did this wound, but the examination showed that they were inflicted with human fingers. Fingers of the male victim. For all his life the poor man swallowed his anger, thinking that it’s the best way to control his emotions, never letting them out, never showing them. But in fact it was like with that puppy. For all his life he carefully, gradually and thoroughly fed, nurtured and raised his own Wrath until it became too strong and broke free from his weakening control just like his dog did. And the man killed his wife, destroyed everything in his house, and then stopped in the middle of the room, looking around. There was nothing left to destroy, but his Wrath was still hungry. There was only one more thing to devour. The man’s hands were trembling… but they slowly lifted to his own throat. And while a beast called Wrath was biting and tearing his soul, the man ripped his own throat with wild screams that finally turned into squishy babbling and faded.
Third story – Greed
Once upon a time there lived two friends. Both were talented and creative – a Writer and an Artist. The Writer created a series of amazing books describing a beautiful, thoroughly and thoughtfully designed world, in wich the Writer embodied his dreams and ideals. The Writer was popular – but he didn’t enjoyed his popularity, rarely giving interviews or visiting any events, even those arranged by his book fans. He was a lonesome person, without a family, and his only friend was the Artist. The Artist was also succesful in his field – his pictures, realistic yet fantastic looked just like a windows opened right into a fairyland. A friendship of Writer and Artist was mutual and strong, they went through ups and downs of their paths together – until one day the Artist disappeared. The entire search was fruitless – he wasn’t found anywhere. Loss of the only close person struck the Writer deeply; he secluded himself in his house outside the city, and even stopped writing new books about the world of his. A few years after that a postman who’d come each morning, noticed something terrible – he saw the Writer loading his car with something that first looked like a rolled carpet, but there were human foots hanging from it. The postman immediately informed the police – and when they searched the Writer’s house, they’d found a secret basement. When they entered it, their first though was that they got into another world. A few rooms – walls, floor, ceiling – everything was painted. Painted in that fantastic way that can only be the Artist’s work. And those paintings were ones of the world that the Writer’s books told of. In one of those rooms the Writer held his friend captive. He once saw the Artist doing an illustration for his book. And he was driven mad with it – because right in front of his eyes the world he loved so much was embodied. And the Writer thought that this was a way to fulfill his wish. The wish he hid deep inside him, the darkest and most forbidden wish of everyone, who was ever created, whever it’s human, angel or demon – he desired to CREATE A WORLD. Cause the only real difference between humans and animals is an ability to create. In their thoughts. In their dreams. From stones. From iron. With lines on paper. With words. With electrones running in wires. A desire and pleasure of creation as the most possible proximity to the Divine. But for the same reason creators are so vulnerable to sins. Most of them are victims of vanity. But this Writer wasn’t prideful, no. He was wounded by Greed. The Greed of highes possible level. He desired not money nor luxuries or women or any other trivial stuff that Greed usually blinds people with. No, he went much, much further and fell much deeper. It’s hard to tell what caused this, what he lacked in a real world or what he hated and wished to erase. Anyway, he thought about healing his heart wounds by writing his books filled with what he wanted to see around him. And soon this world became more important for him than the real one – and that was the moment when he took the last step, taking an enormous burden named Greed on his shoulders. He wanted to OWN a WORLD. For this purpose he imprisoned his only friend, forcing him to draw his imaginary world, bringing it into reality. And when his prisoner died, unable to withstand this, a poor Writer finally understood that his dark desire can not be granted – and he ended his own life in a room filled with illustration to his books – a semblance of God in a semblance of Universe, as he paid for his wishes with his life and soul. Or, rather, a semblance of soul for his true soul was already buried deep under a mountain named Greed.