Tag Archives: Horror

Halloween on the East Coast of Nowhere

poetry, Words, , , , ,

In the descending fog, someone’s getting lost. Late night tales are telling, Hell-o-ween, I said! How’s my spelling?

It’s the trick and no treat, that slow knock on the door, from no-one. Those masked, silent at your gate, come on now kids, pack it in! It’s getting late!

Do they celebrate death and worms? Tell me what you heard, what you saw? Now tell me again, ok, prove it to me, I want the gory details, do you see!

Because, everybody in the house might scream! And something in the house might go arrrrgh! One by one in the house they will go!?! Hello? Anyone left?

We love the scare; we love the violence, for it’s a full moon tonight, how nice – (silence).

Room Service

creative writing, Flash Fiction, short stories,

IMG_2975

Jon White was alone in his bed sleeping; his only support was his new memory foamed mattress. At 3.05 he awoke with urgency, needing the bathroom.  He hadn’t yet seen, encountered, the heart pulsating shock, which was; the dark figure standing, facing the opposing wall.

A totem in the blackness, she stood in the centre of the room; silent, motionless with no acknowledgement of her surroundings. Jon’s only thought was for the sweet blessed relief he would feel in the bathroom.

He grabbed his duvet and purposefully flung it away from his tepid body. Now, exposed to the arctic impression of the bedroom, the atmosphere in the room sent Jon’s skin temperature to plummet; tightening around his bony adolescent frame like an invasion. With his skin no longer flexible and encasing, Jon not only felt the harsh cold but increasingly ill, only once before had he felt this sick; when he was witness to his father’s death.

The Witch

Flash Fiction, short stories,

“Daddy … Daddy!” I hear the fear in a small, distant voice.

Suddenly I am half awake.

Then I hear, “Daddy!” and the voice, less small and no longer distant.

I bolt upright in my bed; groggy, confused, heavy, drugged by my sleep.

“Ok, Ok, I’m coming I’m coming, what’s the matter? I’m coming!” I reply.

I take a glance at my wife’s uninterrupted sleep, I can’t see her, more feel her… She is there. With my eyes, not yet adjusted to the dark, I step out of bed and stumble clumsily. Using my left thigh like a blind man’s stick, I bounce, to and fro from the edges of my bed.

Until, eventually, I make it somewhere near my bedroom door, and I grab at it with more luck than judgement. I find the handle and pull the door open with more force than necessary. Gingerly I step onto the landing and find my son opening the door to his bedroom to meet me.

“What’s the matter darling?” I ask with whispered concern.

“There’s a witch in my room!” he whimpers. As I kneel down to his eye level he walks into the top of my shoulder and nuzzles his cheek into mine, I rub his back.

“A witch, Oh, there’s no witch,” I whisper calmly into his ear. There’s a temporary hush in background noise, then I notice the wind rush, buffet our house. I acknowledge the weather for the first time; it’s invisible force throws smaller unknown objects into the much larger and more guessable ones.

“It’s just the wind,” I say.

I kiss him on his cheek; looking over his little shoulder and into his bedroom, I notice something strange moving in my son’s bed.

Whatever it is writhes like a large worm, slithering in the darkness, I stare, panicked by its nonsense until the duvet cover falls away, exposing a face, it has my son face, no, it is my son.

In bed, my son calmly asks me, “Daddy, what are you doing?”

I’m unable to answer, for my shock injects itself into my rapidly beating heart, pumps a poison round my veins, I rot internally and then in no time at all, I pass out.