Most recently published stories in Horror.
Lust: The Vampires Story
I watched her from the shadows, unknown to her. I had been watching her for many days, but she had no idea. She was beautiful, dark hair, gorgeaus breasts, strong body and a neck that I wanted to sink my teeth into. I didn't see her eyes as I watched her, because she had her back turned to me. I was sat at the top of a tree at the start of the thick woodland across from her house, out of mind, out of sight. I always knew she was around, because her sweet scent would fill my senses like the smell of food to a human, especially the sweet sugary iron smell of her blood. No human would understand what blood smells like to a vampire, to us it is an aphrodisiac, as addictive as the taste of red wine is to a human. Blood is our food, appetizing and satisfying, but the blood from a gorgeaus attractive woman is unlike the taste of any other blood a vampire can get. She was 18 years old, young, fresh, just like tender fresh juicy meat bought from a butcher. My vampire nose can smell the scent of sweet blood from miles away, it is a smell like no other, especially when mixed with lust. It is the most dangerous scent a human can spread, even if they don't know what lurks in the dark.
It’s all l I have left of her. She offered the locket six months after the bombs fell, a heart-shaped ward of delicate filigree against nuclear winter’s brutal breath.
DOD Archive B.31 (Tommy)
Password->************ //Access Granted// File B.31 corruption detected Files 1-314 corrupted /error 108-32d/ /Start Transmission/
Germaine Street - Chapter SIx
Vincent peered at the camera “Am I centered?” Abby assessed how her brother looked in the preview window, “go a little to the left Vince”
August 2nd, 2139 Dear Diary, It is the second day on the moon now. I am sitting in my bunker, alone, while the others all go exploring this new place, but I just can’t make myself go with them. I assume that this awful dread in my stomach that feels so heavy I can't move is simply because I miss home, Earth, and the memories from there make me feel horrible with homesickness, despite the condition we left it in. I still remember those days when birds still sang songs to the morning sunbeams and trees swayed and danced to the music of nature. I am crying now: I can't even explain the regret I feel gnawing at my insides from how we killed our planet and our people and abandoned them. I can see Earth from here: a small orb that is dull blue and green with red and white stains smeared across its surface from the oil and pollution- and maybe the spilt blood from the War. I don't even know what to say here about the War, just that I don’t even remember it because my mind has refused to let me witness those memories again. What I know is that 75% of the 30 billion people were slaughtered in the wild rush for power and resources, when the Plague of Red had started claiming far too many people, and it had driven them all mad. The Plague of Red had arisen about 30 years ago, before I was born, when a radiation spill had killed everyone in Europe, and the Plague had mutated from the ruins and those who caught it were driven by a passion to kill. I was born into a world of slaughter and pain, so how am I not used to it? I can't say, but now, having just stepped off the Heart Shaped Locket, the last spaceship left on earth, I feel even worse than I did on earth. I should be grateful to be alive, to be one of those lucky refugees that got a pass to escape my waring planet, not even a full persent of the population, but I'm not: I am terrified because I feel like I've just stepped into something much worse. What is wrong with me?
Come Play With Me
The dog is large, and the girl is small. The pair looks harmless from a distance and even more so up close. The girl’s tattered dress is patched in places and ill-fitting but clean. Like someone dressed in their finest after a long period of poverty and unrest for a ceremony of some sort, or a party. The dog could be any breed or all of them, its features scream lovable mutt and its fur shines in a way that said someone’s loving hands took the time to ensure it looked its best, down to the polka dot bowtie about its neck. They are a handsome pair. The kind that draws eyes and smiles and lowers defenses. You’d look at them and remember the things that were right in the world. The things that made you feel good, made you feel young.
The firefly would visit him often. Every night after his bath, the boy would scamper down the hall and into his room. The firefly would be waiting for him. Each night it hovered just outside his window, wings fluttering, its yellow glow flashing gently.
The Nightmare Before Christmas Review
This review comes from my Letterboxd profile, where I review all the movies I watch. I saw this movie for the first time a couple of years ago on Halloween. At that time, I probably would have given it a solid 3.5 stars. The animation was fantastic and the design of the Oogie Boogie scenes was enough for me to say that it was worth watching, but I felt that the character arcs were incredibly underdeveloped. I felt that the chemistry between Jack and Sally was forced, I felt there wasn't enough backstory given, and I was ultimately disappointed by the way this movie told its story. Now, however, I see all of the small nuances of how they built each of those arcs up. I see how the filmmakers weaved in Sally's desperation to escape, which is so strong that she is willing to poison her captor/creator multiple times in order to do so. I see the way that Jack's enthusiasm for Christmas makes sense given how many times he's had to do the same exact thing for God knows how long, and I see all of the other little story elements that ultimately build to the final crescendo being set up so much better. They're subtle, but they are absolutely there, and I actually kind of love that about this movie now.
The Television at the End of the World
He dragged himself up the wooden stairway for the third or fourth time today, a pinkish wet mess of body-shaped parts. A torso, one arm, a twisted and angry face, an array of unrecognizable protuberances. Whatever it was that withdrew humanity from his body was cruel enough to leave him alive. In spite, in discord with the definition of life.
Wicked & Wonderful 04
Read: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 She hadn't replied by the time he was ready to go. He turned off his computer, pulled on his worn, leather trench coat and stuffed a pair of his leather gauntlets into one pocket. He was aware how ‘wild west’ it made him look, but he was in the land of Tombstone, after all. Might as well blend in, right?
The Last Light Out of Town
It sits. And it waits. Shrouded in fog, the slowly changing colors muted by the moisture that hung low. Street lights refracting off the crystals, giving the aura of pure mystery. Beyond the light, dead ahead, was darkness. A lone road, leading away from the safety of neighborhood homes and the cozy convenience store that sat at the corner, and to the unknowns of dark country roads, forbidden houses spread apart across miles of foliage.
It happens to me every night. At 3:33 am, I see her. I have no idea who she is or how she gets into my bedroom, but it needs to end. Just when I get brave enough to stand up and catch her, she disappears.