Empathy

Empathy.jpg

He was looking in the the mirror, freshening up. He had a date today. It felt good. He was used to it, though. Girls used to like him. At first.

She was a cute student girl from the next town. She didn’t know him. Yet. She would. He was going to get laid, he knew that much. One way or another. He was almost hoping she’d say no, it was more fun that way.

He was ready, looking adorable. Prince charming, he was, the girls he met fell like flies. They usually regretted that after a while.

He heard a key in the lock. He froze. It couldn’t be. After so many years, and he hadn’t even changed the locks. Not even after his mother was out of the way.

No. Stupid. Stupid!

I’m ho-oome!

He started shaking. Breathing faster, his eyes flickering. It couldn’t be, but still he knew it was. Only one person had that key.

His father. He was back.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Empathy

https://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/psychopathy

Domestic Violence

 

Jörmungandr

Jörmungandr

There had been no wind for many days. Twenty hard men was rowing day and night. This night everything was black. No stars, no moon. Just darkness.

The waves rose. First a little bit, then more, harder.

We’re too far west! Shouted Haraldr. He was one of the oldest on the boat, and second in command. We can’t go further. The World Serpent could be lurking!

There is no such thing! Lefr responded. But the sea went higher and higher. He started doubting his new beliefs.

A face appeared from the waves. Huge, like the sea itself. It rose above them. A creature of another world. The world of gods and giants, of powers beyond understanding. Jörmungandr. The Serpent of Midgard.

Turn! Shouted Leifr. Turn, we have to turn! The men rowed, as hard as they could. There was no way. No way to turn, no way to get back. The Snake was over them. It controlled the waves, moved the boat where ever it wanted. Played with them. A creature of death and destruction. They were doomed.

The wind rose even more. Thunder. Lightning. Thórr. Jörmungandr lifted it’s head, ready to strike. A lightning bolt pierced into it. It turned. Looking towards the skies. The men could hear the thunder rolling. Thórr’s wagon. The hooves of his bucks. The deafening cracks of his hammer.

The storm was savage. The waves where high as mountains. A fight between gods. The men fell. All control was lost. The boat was thrown around through the seas. Another lightning bolt. Another. Another. They heard the terrifying roars of the snake. It could no longer be seen.

The storm calmed down. They were lost, far away in the sea. The sun rose.

Land! Land ahead!

The new land was different from the lands they knew from before. Everything was bigger. The trees. Even the blueberries.

If we find our way home, we can bring more people and make a settlement here, said Leifr.

Do you think people will dare to go on such a dangerous trip? Said Haraldr skeptically. I don’t think big blueberries will be enough.

Hmm… I guess you’re right. Leifr thought for a while. Got it! From today this land will be called Wineland. That should cut it.

In this moment Harald remembered why he always went with Leifr on these crazy trips. The man was a genius.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leif_Erikson

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/04/13/blood-in-the-depths/

Odin’s Visit

Monastery

Monastery.jpg

Maria, Juan and Guillermo goes to visit an old monastery ruin. It’s mostly fallen down, but some walls still stands.

Imagine the strange lives these women had, said Maria.

Not like yours, that’s for sure, says Guillermo teasing.

Haha, says Maria sarcastically. Funny. You’ve slept with more guys than I have.

That is true, my love, he laughs.

Look! Juan is pointing at the ground.

There is a necklace half buried in the sand underneath the highest wall. Maria picks it up. It looks old.

I wonder who it belonged to. Probably one of the nuns… She looks up. There’s a window far above.

Maybe it fell from there?

Maybe… Said Guillermo.

Dolores and Antonio was standing on the bottom of the road leading up to the monastery, saying goodbye.

Dolores had been forced by her parents to enter the monastery when they found out she’d been seeing a boy in the village. She had been living there for two years now. She hated it. Sor Angustias was always yelling at her, always criticizing. She even hit her some times.

Dolores started walking up the road. There was no time, Sor Angustias would be angry.

Will I see you again? Antonio asked.

Maybe, she said with a smile.

When?

She stopped for a moment, looking over her shoulder. She really liked this boy.

Wait for me tonight, when the sun sets. On the other side of the valley. She ran up the road to the monastery. Sor Angustias was already calling her.

Antonio was thrilled. He knew it was a great sin to desire a nun in this way, but he didn’t care. She was the most amazing girl he’d ever met.

They had seen each other on the street lately. He had been watching her, stunned by her beauty. The way she moved. She was no ordinary nun, that’s for sure. She was a star.

Quite a view they must have had. Maria is looking up on the windows high up above her. Even from down here you can see the whole valley. Up there it must have been amazing.

Sor Angustias was looking out on the valley from a monastery window She saw sister Dolores crossing the fields. Where is that no good girl going? A boy was waiting for her on the other side. The pieces fell into place.

Dolores walked up the hill. She held her hand tight around the necklace he gave her. She was in love. She’d forgotten about all her problems, like if she had traveled to another world.

When she came home, Sor Angustias was waiting for her.

Where have you been? She asks.

Just out looking for flowers.

Flowers, eh? So that’s how he pays you.

P-pardon? Says Dolores. She stops.

Sor Angustias stands right behind her. I know where you been. Whore. Her tone darkened on the last word. Disgust.

Sor Angustias pulled Dolores up the stairs to the tower. Dolores screamed for help. The other nuns in the monastery heard her screams, but did nothing.

You see this view? She says. Guess what I’ve seen today. Her nails dig into Dolores’ neck.

Please… You’re hurting me!

I know.

Dolores tried to get loose.

You dare to oppose me? Sor Angustias was used to obedience, and now this slut was fighting back. She could not stand it.

Antonio was crossing the valley on his way home. He heard a scream. He looked up to the monastery. Someone fell from one of the higher windows. He ran. He found Dolores on the ground. Bloody. Broken.

No… No no no…

Tears were falling down his cheeks. She died in his arms. No one in the monastery ever spoke of what had happened.

Maria stands looking at the valley. A deep sadness comes over her. Guillermo sees the tears.

What’s wrong? He asks.

I… I don’t know, she answers. Something horrible happened here.

Juan looks at her. He knows she has her strange things, this girl. He never really gives it much attention.

This is not ours, she says. She digs a hole in the dirt and puts down the necklace. Buries it.

I want to go home.

https://grahamisjustmyname.com/2017/01/07/what-pegman-saw-shahi-qila/

https://ashnfinn.wordpress.com/2016/11/09/verum-sine-mendatio/

Witchcraft

Cogito Ergo Sum

Cogito Ergo Sum

Nothing really exists, said Johnny. I’m sure of it now. Nothing exists ever.

Mike was looking at him like he was crazy. What do you mean nothing exist? We’re here, aren’t we?

No. We’re not here. This is all just an illusion. I exist, but you don’t. This room doesn’t. And I can prove it. Not to you, of course. You don’t exist.

Mike rolled his eyes and went towards the door. You do that, he said. I’m leaving. You got it all wrong.

Johnny jumped him from behind.

Mike fell to the ground. What the…? Johnny sat down on top of him. He had a kitchen knife in his hand.

You don’t exist, and now you die!  

Fuck off, man, That’s even a contradictio…

Johnny stabbed him in the throat. Blood poured out on the floor.

And now it’s my turn, Johnny said to himself. According to his new revelation he’d been talking to himself all his life anyway, so why stop now.

The ultimate proof that everything but his own mind was just an illusion was about to be his. He stabbed himself in the chest, aiming for his heart. He missed it. The illusion of pain, he thought. He stabbed again.

Everything went black. He never found out, but he was wrong.

https://wordlandvoyage.wordpress.com/2017/03/25/meaningless-moments/

http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Cogito_ergo_sum

Existence

Fallout

Fallout

A meteor had fallen from the sky in central Siberia. The explosion had been tremendous. They isolated the area in fear of radiation or other kind of contamination. Physiological contamination. They had never dreamed of this.

Colours were seen in the sky. At first they were thought to be northern lights, but they moved differently, had more shape. They seemed… Conscious, somehow. There were some kind of darkness in them.

A group of scientists was sent in. Raskolnikov lead the crew. They went in on a military vehicle, accompanied by soldiers. Major Rasputin led the excursion.

They left in the morning, it was high spring, and there were flowers everywhere. The sun was shining.

As they came closer to the impact area the sky started to darken in a strange way. Not like clouds or anything else covered for the sun, but more as if it was becoming nighttime. The sun was still as high on the sky as it should be this far north, but it became more and more pale, and the stars started showing. The colours started dancing in the the air high above them. The further in they went, the lower the colours, and soon they were flying around the truck like ghosts.

Do you think their alien lifeforms? Said Boris.

I don’t know, answered Raskolnikov. They don’t seem material.

The forms had faces, and they were looking at them through the truck window. Floating around them. They looked like they were asking for something, no, begging. Begging for help.

Alien ghosts, said Boris, more to himself than to anyone else. Is that even possible?

They arrived at the crater. The sight was spectacular. Never before had Raskolnikov seen anything like it. Spirits flying around in chaos and harmony. Moans of pain could be heard. Raskolnikov went out of the truck. He was to amazed to be careful. Boris tried to stop him, but he started walking into the crater.

As he went further the spirits were surrounding him, caressing him, whispering into his ear sound which could be some kind of language. Something was calling for him. There, in the darkness in front of him a transparent, abstract creature was sitting. It’s face was twisted in a strange way, pain, horror and bottomless suffering was shining. It spoke to Raskolnikov.

We destroyed our planet. When there was nothing else to eat, we ate each other. We kept the meat living, cutting off piece by piece. Our planet was suffering so deeply, so indescribably that the dead could not rest. The suffering was only getting more and more horrible.

A group of our race found a solution. Euthanasia. They destroyed the whole planet, blew it up from within. This piece has been flying through space for a long, long time, longer than you can ever imagine. Now we are here, and we are still suffering. Now you will suffer with us.

The spirits surrounded him, started scratching his skin, his bones. He started running towards the truck. He heard gunshots. Screams. Silence. The ghosts were ripping his skin to pieces. He did not die. Agony. Pain became everything.

It still is.

His souls is still floating around in the crater waiting for the next unfortunate creature wander into the trap to be destroyed as he once was.

The area stayed a no go zone. Anyone who entered was never seen again.

http://www.scienceandfantasyfiction.com/flash-fiction/ghosts-of-the-ogygopsis.htm

http://365tomorrows.com/2017/03/21/the-high-cost-of-contact/

His Grandpa’s Cabin

Prophetic Poetry

The little girl was standing in front of him. He couldn’t see her eyes. Her dark hair was hanging down in front of her pale face. She held a doll in her right hand. The doll’s eyes were torn out. It was hanging like a dead person. The girl made a sudden move with her head, threw her hair back. Fast. Her face. Twisted, strange, as if someone had hurt her, cut her. Destroyed her. She screamed.

They had found the house in the wilderness. Abounded and beautiful. With a bit of work they had cleaned it up well enough to stay there for some days. A rest until they would continue their journey.

In the basement they found a book. A small writing book, a note pad. Only one of the pages had text on it. The letters were chaotic, as written by a child.

Lonely nights and silence

Will they ever return?

Trapped and terrified

When time comes they will burn

Blood will run on wooden floors

Innocent lives… delight

The two who comes in through that door

this will be their night.

They joked about how it would be them, that there was a ghost or something. They did not know the horrible event that had happened in this place.

A little girl had been murdered by her parents. Fear had been the reason. Fear of a prophecy that never came true.

This night Janet and Morty had been lying in front of the fireplace. Janet fell asleep, and Morty went out to take a piss. Coming back in he saw the little girl. She was standing in the hallway.

Her face had a horrendous look in it’s red, beady eyes. Her scream was long, evil and in pain. She jumped at him faster than a beast. Bit his throat, pulling it out. Morty fell to the ground. Blood poured out of the wound and his mouth.

The scream woke Janet up. She ran out in the hallway, saw her boyfriend vomiting blood on the floor. A little girl sitting on top of him. The girl turned her head. An unnaturally fast movement. Her head was turned backwards. Blood were running down her cheeks. She jumped, or flew towards Janet. Janet fell backwards. She managed to throw the little girl into the fireplace. She screamed horrible screams as the flames devoured her. Screams of a little girl in pain and terror. Then she disappeared.

Janet ran over to her beloved boyfriend lying on the floor. He was dead. There was nothing she could do for him. She ran out the door as fast as she could and into the night. She stopped.

The little girl was standing in the yard. In front of her. In the tall grass. She stopped. Petrified. The little girl attacked. The sleeping birds awoke and flew from their trees far, far away.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Poetry_Day

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/267155-wasting-copper/

Tears of Blood

 

Full Moon

She was sitting on a bench in the park, looking up at the clear sky. The sun had just gone down, and in the opposite horizon a beautiful, big and full moon was rising. She felt relaxed and safe.

A howl was heard in a distance up in the forest. A dog? It didn’t really sound like a dog. It was more like some kind of wolf, but there was no wolves in this area. There was something strange about it, something dark. She shivered, got her purse and started to walk home.

The shadows flew by as he ran down the hill. The darkness felt good, the air in the hair on his cheeks, his shoulders. The moonlight through the trees. The smells. So many, so strong. He felt alive as never before. The moment. Everything was this moment.

She walked down the road, into the shortcut towards their house, a path through the forest. The moonlight filters through the higher parts of the trees, giving her a little bit of eyesight.

She hears the howl again.

A new smell is mixed with the smells of the forest. Rich. Intriguing. Beautiful. He licks his lips. He’s never smelled a smell like that. He stops for a moment. Sucking in pleasure through his nose. He howls again. A long howl of longing, of desire. Then he keeps running.

It was closer this time. Too close. What was it? It sounded almost human, like someone gone crazy, but it was too grave, too… wild. She started walking faster.

She could see the end of the path now, where she would be out in the street between the houses again. A shadow moved in the darkness between the trees. Fast. Too fast to be human. Something crossed the path behind her. She turned around. Nothing. She started running.

He sees her now. His prey. She’s running. A desire to hunt, to play. The smell is strong. The smell of fear. He wants her.

She reached the edge of the forest, ran out in the street. Kept running. There were some people a bit ahead. She was safe. She stops for a moment to catch her breath. Turns around. A beast comes out of the forest. Running half on two feet, halfly on all four. A wolf. A man. A monster.

She screams as he leaps towards her.

He sees the fear in her eyes. He lands over her, she falls to the ground. Helpless. Beautiful. He sinks his teeth into he neck. Her flesh. The iron taste as the blood goes down his throat. He howls to the moon. Four people are watching a block away. Shocked. Terrified.

Just the way he likes them.

http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/history-of-the-werewolf.html
http://www.thescarystory.com/onlineshorthorrorstories/
Beauty and the Beast

Bed Time Story

bed-time-story

There’s something under my bed. I know it. I can feel it. It’s waiting for me. Waiting for me to put my feet down. Waiting to hurt me. Kill me. Eat me.

I want to look but i don’t dear to. It’s there, I know it. And I’m home all alone.

I need to go to the bathroom. If I can just get out of here, maybe I could sleep on the coach or something. There are no monsters, I tell my self.

I look underneath the bed. Nothing. I step down. It grabs my ankle. Holds me fast. I scream. Try to pull my foot back up, but it’s too strong. I try to run for the door, but the grip makes me fall. Another hand catches me. Pulls me in under the bed. It laughs at me. Mockingly. It pulls me a bit further.

Let go of the bed, it says. Don’t be afraid. It’s fun down here.. hhhihihihihehehehehehihihihi.

I’ve known all my life they were there. I’ve felt them in my fear. Now, finally they got me. They’ve been waiting for the right moment. The moment I’m all alone, the moment no one will ever hear my screams. The moment my dark anxiety has reach it’s highest level, when society has already broken me down. This moment.

I scream and scream. I know no one will hear me. I kick with the other foot. A third hand catches it. Now I panic. I can see two beady eyes shining of evil and lust for inflicting pain under the bed. A line of sharp fangs as a mouth opens. There are no monsters, I tell my self over and over as teeth sinks into my flesh, claws rips my belly open. Intense pain. It’s not a dream, it’s the end.

I fall into a humid dark pit. A dimension of terror. I can feel their eyes looking at me. I can hear their hidden laughter. They want to hurt me. They always wanted to hurt me. They’ve been waiting for me in this hole of terror since the beginning of time. Sharp claws dig into me and slowly rip me to pieces.

https://grimscrypt.wordpress.com/2017/03/02/chameleon/

https://hyoukablog.wordpress.com/2017/03/04/bakemono/

Domestic Violence

Compost

Compost.jpg

George was working on a formula to revive dead biological tissue. Cells, basically. He had taken his work home today, he needed some peace and quiet to keep working.

He was working in his home laboratory, cleaning jars and glasses with ammoniac when he spilled some in his work. The reagents tube started boiling, releasing a strange green smoke.

Fuck! Said George. I need to get this out of here. He took the glass and opened the window running. He inhaled some of the smoke. It burned his throat. He tripled. The glass left his hand and went out of the window. Shit! He said. Well, it was destroyed anyway. He looked out. Under the window there was a pile of garden waste. Grass, sticks and leaves.

He felt a bit odd from the smoke. He went out to get some air in case it was toxic.

His garden was a mess. Rubbish all around, and the lawn needed to be mowed. He went into the garage and got his lawn mower to get the best out of the situation. The lawn mower was a gift from the company a year ago. Ramaha 3000 turbo. The best there was.

The lawn mower was great. Smooth and powerful. The noise made everything else seem quiet. The sun was shining. the garden smelled of fresh, green grass. Behind him something was moving in the garden waste.

The lawn mower stopped. Out of gas, he says out loud. That sucks. A shadow covered him. He turns slowly around. A monster of leaves, grass and sticks raised from the pile, double the size of any human stood over him in.

Instinctively he lifted the grass mower up. It caught a piece of the monster. Screaming it was turned into small pieces of wood and grass pouring out on the lawn. As it fell to the ground George passed over the falling rubbish. Soon the monster was totally mowed.

Phew! Said George. That was close! He looks around. But what was that..? Uh. Of course. It worked! So ammoniac was the missing ingredient… what a surprise. I’m going to be famous! And rich!

He hears strange sounds around him. Up from the grass rises little grass monsters from the rests of the big one.  The other rubbish joined in. A lot of rubbish. The garden crawled with monsters. Grass monsters, wooden stick monsters, flower monsters. He ran for the door but it was to late. His screams could be heard all over the neighbourhood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHDudCPLtRs

https://my3sixty5challenge.com/2017/02/20/day-284-stay-short-story/

The Cockroach Man in the Darkness Lurks

Books in Times of Darkness

books-in-times-of-darkness

The lighthouse shows way for lost sailors. The wind pulls the stone walls, threatening to tear them apart. He knows it won’t. These walls have held storms for a hundred years. This storm was harder, though. Much harder. The sea was higher than he’d ever seen it. The wind stronger. The thunder rumbled louder.

A flash. A loud crack. He looked up. Out of the window looking over the sea. There was no light.

He put down his book, took his little lamp and went out to the stairs. The tall walls were making threatening noises. The pharo tower was built for hard weather. He walked up the many stairs. He looked around in the light of his lamp, tried to find the failure. He remembered a book about evil lurking in the shadows.

He was not afraid.

Outside of the lamp room a cable had loosened. He could hear the sea slamming wildly onto the rocks underneath. The wind made the tower wave. He opened the door. He was sucked out. Grabbed the edge when his feet left the ground. He got back in and closed the door.

He found a rope. Tied it around his waist. The other end he tied to the railing. He opened the door again, went out. The wind pulled him, tore him. He moved along the wall. Held on to the fence. He fell once. Got up. Fell again. He remembered a book about adventures in high mountains. Explorers crossing bottomless abysses and cold wind.

He was not afraid.

He got the heavy cable. Something raised from the sea behind him. Something big. He could see a light in the darkness, over the sea, floating high up in the air. He got the cable in. Pulled the lever. Light. He saw a monster. A snake. A dragon. A fishlike head covered in shells. Gills. Nostrils. Six arms on it’s body.

He remembered a tale of lost sailors. A tale of darkness in the sea. Of creatures from the deep of the oceans, cosmic monsters from dimensions of evil.

He was afraid.

The wind got him. He fell. The rope straitened. Above him stood the monster. Enormous like a mountain. Terror from the deep.

He thought he heard laughter. An evil, rolling laughter in the storm. He grabbed the rope, pulled himself up. Got to the door. He slammed the door behind him.

He ran down the stairs. The roars of the monster echoed between the rocks. He remembered a book about old gods and sea monsters. He was afraid. He sunk down in a corner. Hopefully the storm would soon be over.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._P._Lovecraft

https://jacforsyth.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/the-death-of-dragons/

The Strange Nest