Tag Archives: horror

#Inktober – Something for the Connoisseurs

 

Just some Poe fangirling.

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I actually don’t hate this one. Yet. I tried, in my way, to recreate those old storybook illustrations. Maybe it needs more contrast. Maybe I need to stop looking at it.

And just for the record, here is my sketch, which I liked so well I was nervous to ink it. I could have gone in and darkened with a pencil, but that would have been cheating. It’s Inktober.

 

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I KNOW I don’t have to tell you what it’s from.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The Hell Show

This is a nightmare I had, so it probably doesn’t make a lot of sense.  I often dream in third person.

This a horror story! Turn away, ye faint of heart!

 


 

Before she went to war, she saw her doppelganger in the crowd. It was hiding something bulky under its cloak. Its eyes had a peculiar shine to them. It felt her gaze and looked at her, and she sensed great hate, warning her of things to come. It disappeared in the crowd.

Later, when she tried to tell others about it, they wrote her off as afraid of battle.

Years passed…

She was hanging up laundry to dry late at night. Her stepson was watching TV and she made small talk as she worked, the way mothers do. Gradually she noticed that something was wrong with the channel he was watching. It was a picture of hell. Twisted flesh illuminated in violent orange. Heavy screams.

It leeched all light from the room around her. 

She tried to maintain normalcy, changed the station. “Let’s not watch this scary channel,” she said. He waited until she set the remote down and changed it back.

The atmosphere of the room was sapping her. This was the end of her peace. The same darkness she had seen that day in her doppleganger had returned to claim her. She could barely move.

Rolling her head to tear her eyes away from the TV, she focused instead on a coat rack leaning against the wall which she’d planned to mount in the entryway, for visitors. All the wet laundry she had yet to hang. Simple household things which she’d held on to and tried not to take for granted.

A self-protective instinct kicked in. Weak with horror, she staggered to her feet and stumbled into the bedroom next door, throwing herself onto the bed on top of the covers. Absentmindedly she wondered if she wasn’t going to get cold, falling asleep this way. It didn’t matter. As long as she wasn’t forced to watch that channel. As long as reality held fast.

Her stepson followed her. His eyes shone in the very same way her doppleganger’s had. And something else had entered the room with him: the stifling, odious presence of another being, more felt than seen.

“No, no no please,” she managed. It was hopeless. Fear sapped her limbs; paralysis suppressed her fluttering will into hopeless, taut submission.

The room darkened.

Thick, strangely humid air settled into the room. A small buzzing gnat of mad rationale whispered in her ear, at least it’s warm

The room was opaque with darkness. There was no TV in here, but he didn’t need one. He was going to bring that hell to her anyway.

The boy went to the window. An ominous brimstone glow limned the solid blackout roller shade. 

He raised the shade, and hell was there. An enormous corpselike thing looked through the window at her with dead eyes, a boa constrictor jammed down its throat and wrapping its fetid body in torturing coils. It screamed, impossibly through the snake. The sound was deep, low, primal. The sound of pure evil. 

She screamed back.

She screamed until she ran out of air, kept on spasmodically screaming. Paroxysms of wordless pain and terror tore through her, leaving actual tatters. She screamed until every blood vessel in her eyes burst. She threw her head back and screamed until her neck broke.

Her body jittered unnaturally. Her face was changing. She would be one of them soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Dream: monsters and corn

 

This is a dream I had. It’s very random and silly, but it’s all I have written down that I like right now.


 

The house where we lived was infested.

Repeatedly throughout the day my kids would call to me, crying. “There’s a monster, mommy, there’s a monster!”

I would rush into the room. Whenever one appeared, the air would get strange, heavy, muted, like having ears stuffed with foam plugs or plunging underwater.

I could see the monster’s shadow under the door, or sometimes it would be even closer, about to harm the kids. It was made of twisted purple and raw red flesh, its head was stretched out of any human semblance, and it lacked a face. When I killed it with a slash, it would disappear, and the air would come back in the room.

This happened so much it became commonplace. The kids and I were the only ones who could see them.

One day a boss-level monster appeared. I opened the front door and there it was. It had a wild circular mane of red hair like a lion. Its nonexistent face was an oversized, blank, caucasian smear. It wore a horizontally striped t-shirt and shorts like kids in the 50’s wore, except its body underneath the clothes was wrongly lumped and muscled against the laws of biology.

It moved in glitches. It glitched past me and went straight for the kids, chasing them across the back lawn. They couldn’t outrun this thing. I ran to save them.

The dream changed. I was a boy with corn-on-the-cob hair. I was trying to sneak through the mall unnoticed, but my high school was having a grand parade right through the center. I’d lied to my girlfriend, telling her I couldn’t come to the parade, and she was sure to see me here, so I hid. Having been strengthened by my fights against the monsters in the earlier dream, I stuck to the ceiling and tried to clamber my way to the door. It was really nerve wracking though, because anyone who looked up would instantly spot me.

Then I saw the perfect hiding place: a float with a human-sized cob of corn. My natural camouflage. I landed right beside it, covered myself in corn, and lay as still as I could.

My friend saw movement and suspected. He came over and tried to sweep all the corn off of me. Panicking, and for lack of better options, I responded by pulling more corn over me. This went on for too long. 


 

Then someone woke me up!

Yes, we’d had corn with dinner that night. Also the beginning part of the dream was almost entirely lifted from the beginning of Hogfather, except the monsters were more like Stranger Things. Sometimes I wonder if I ever actually have an original thought.

Well, the corn cob hair might be too dumb to have been thought of before. Anyway… who cares.

Goodnight!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Waking Wake

 

Flayed to the bone
Skeleton exposed, oxidizing
I am Cain
Slain
At my wake by mistake
Whetting my weapon upon the table
Unstable
I try to stand tall
I stumble I fall
I go through it all
And you all
Watch me fall
With glass eyes negligent eyes eyes like microchips eyes like calculations

Reduced to a sideshow
I tumble, fumble, mumble
My skeleton exposed
The things they think they know
They try to describe
Right in my face but who are they
Someone gave me steel file joints
A cruelly placed arthritis
Hobbles me
I stagger to the door
I try the lock
Locked
Locked
I think I might be here forever
Forever under scrutiny
In this living autopsy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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