I Found "Willing" Candidates

It’s always been my dream. Ever since I was young, I would write short stories for my friends. They weren’t any good but I was a kid so my skills were lacking. As I aged, I assumed my writing would grow. It seems I was wrong.

My latest book was decently received but there was one complaint virtually universal with every critic. The violence didn’t seem realistic. As a horror author, this is a terrible criticism to hear. Countless nights were spent trying to rack my brain for better descriptions. I watched a myriad of horror movies and tried to describe the violence. I was horrified to find my critics had been correct.

Somehow, I had managed to turn even the scariest and most brutal horror movie deaths into cheesy, comical B-rated knock-offs. My writing seemed to lack a darker element which gave the violence life. As it stood, I felt I would be better suited for comedies.

Plot has always been my strongest skill. Countless reviews had commended my plots with five stars. So, why couldn’t I nail the gore? What was I lacking and how could I get it?

I tried several “how to” books and even a few writing classes but nothing seemed to change. There had to be a better way. I tried reading murder reports and browsing archives of infamous serial killers. I even visited a morgue to surround myself with death but nothing seemed to help.

Nearing a level of frustration I had never felt before, I decided to take a walk in a local park late at night. Maybe a creepy setting would spark a creepy description. I walked for hours with nothing buy my cell phone flashlight to cut through the total darkness.

Large, cold rain drops began to fall and I quickly looked for shelter. A few yards ahead, I found a small entrance to a cave which cut into the large hill in the center of the park. It was small but I managed to squeeze through. Once the storm was over, I would make the walk back home. There was no point draining my phone battery any more than I already had, so I switched off the flashlight and slipped it back in my pocket.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust but when they did, I realized I could see. Not well, but enough to make out shapes. As the rain fell in sheets outside, the sound thundering like a waterfall through the cave, I looked for whatever thing caused the minimal light source. My curiosity couldn’t be ignored.

Crawling on my hands and knees, I explored the cave. After an immeasurable amount of time, I realized I was lost. This cave system seemed to snake around for miles. But a quick look around told me I was closer to the light source. Everything had become brighter. There was a slight hum in my ears. When I rounded the next corner, I saw something I had never seen before.

A bluish cloud floated in the middle of a vast space before me. It hung several feet in the air and trailed downward, touching the ground. I climbed to my feet and stared at the blue, pulsating mist. It hung there like a curtain and my curiosity burned once again. Venturing forward, I placed my hand inside. Pulling it back, everything seemed to be fine. Too many horror stories had me believing there would be monsters inside, ready to devour my flesh.

My knees shook as I stepped forward, pushing my face into the cloud. Inside, I saw a new tunnel. It was unlike any I had ever seen. Without a second thought, I stepped inside. It was lit up with a blue color, however, I saw no lights. It seemed as if the tunnel, itself, was the source. I could see no end to the tunnel, only a long stretch of slightly illuminated darkness. As I turned, I noticed something impossible. The tunnel moved with me. In fact, no matter where I looked, there seemed to be a tunnel and yet there was only one. I stood for a long moment, trying to understand the bizarre sight before me.

When the queasy feeling in my stomach subsided, I began to walk. Whichever direction I chose to walk, the tunnel would seemingly follow. Though I could see only one path everywhere I looked, it seemed as if there were hundreds to choose. Eventually, I saw another misty cloud before me. Wasting no time, I plunged inside. The world around me was now bright and sunny. Somehow, I had found my way out of the cave. Thinking I had crawled around all night, I pulled out my phone to check the time. But I was met with a “No Service” message before the phone died.

After several minutes, I was able to flag down a lone hiker and asked for the time. “One in the afternoon,” She said, looking at her phone. It was impossible. How could I have explored all night and all morning? I didn’t feel tired at all. I should have been exhausted.

“Are you okay?” She asked, watching my confused expression. Shaking out of my daze, I looked at her.

“Sorry, I was lost in the caves all night. Feeling a little light headed.” I told her. She smiled at me.

“Do you need to borrow my phone to call someone to pick you up?

I took her up on her offer and pulled her phone from her hand, calling my closest friend. If anything, I needed to talk to someone about what I’d seen in the cave.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Tim, buddy, it’s good to hear your voice. Listen, I got stuck in the caves down at Cedar Park all night. Do you think you could come down here and-“

“I’m sorry, but do I know you? He cut me off. I laughed it off, thinking it had been a stupid joke but he wasn’t laughing.

“Sorry, I think you have the wrong Tim.” He said and hung up. I looked down at the phone as if it would help me understand and what caught my eye made my blood turn ice cold. The date listed the current month as October. But that couldn’t be possible. It was May, wasn’t it? Somehow, I had traveled five months into the future. But why hadn’t Tim recognized me? Then, like a semi-truck, it all hit me. The strange tunnel, the missing time, everything. This wasn’t my world. Somehow, I had traveled to a different world. Another reality. It was unbelievable. I had so many questions, so much I wanted to know, things to explore. But an idea flooded my mind. There was a way to fix my writing and it was right in front of my face. I looked back up at the woman and smiled, thanking her for her phone.

I can tell you now, my writing is getting better. I’ve been able to describe the horrors in my writing more eloquently. The screams, the panic, the gore, the violence. It all seems so…real now. And I’ll never forget the woman who leant me her phone and started it all. She had been the first of many I brought back to my world for practice. After all, I have a whole world filled with people to practice on now.