A monster under a bridge. Aak fictionspawn

Happy

He was a monster. He lived in a hole in the ground. His little hole was humid and dirty, full of fungus and worms, just the way he liked it. He was a monster, lived like a monster, and thought like a monster.

Today he was out walking in the woods. He liked to walk in the woods in the afternoon, when the sun was shining through the treetops, listening to the little birds sing, watching the squirrels play. He liked looking at them. Sometimes he killed one or two, just for fun. He was a monster, after all. He didn’t mean any harm. It just made him happy, that’s all.

He was sneaking up on a little deer when he heard something down on the path. He usually didn’t go down there, but the happy giggling of a little girl caught his attention. She sounded so cute, so sweet. He wanted to share her happiness….

A monster and a lighthouse. Aak fictionspawn

Books in Times of Darkness (with audio)

Rewritten, read out loud and republished. Originally published on fictionspawn.com February 21. 2017
(Audio track)
The lighthouse shows way for lost sailors. The wind pulls the stone walls, threatening to tear them apart, but these walls have held storms for a hundred years.

This one was harder, though. Much harder. The sea was higher than he’d ever seen. The wind stronger. The thunder rumbled louder…

A Book in the Attic. Aak fictionspawn

Short Stories

Look! Paladin said to his mother. A book with Grandpa’s handwriting!

Oh, my! Who would have known grandpa was a writer. And the name, “Tales of the Horror”. Haha! Your dark and sinister Grandpa…

They both laughed. Grandpa had been the funniest man alive, always cheerful and friendly. The only moment Paladin had seen him sad was the weeks after Grandma left him.

He sat down by the desk and started reading while his mother kept organising the old things in the attic. They would have to make a lot of trips out here the coming weeks, a lot of things had been piling up through a long life.

The first story was about…

A man watching his factory. Kjetil Aak

Tears of Blood

Rewritten and republished. Originally posted on fictionspawn.com September 21. 2016.

Gundersen was standing on his little bedroom balcony. He could see the whole factory from here. It was going well, they had lot of profit. He was getting rich.

The workers kept complaining, though. Assholes. He had built a great factory they could work in, and all they ever did was whimper. Our children are hungry, they said. We can’t afford medicines. With the accidents lately things had gotten worse.

He couldn’t get the image out of his head. She had been only eight years old, the little girl. Her body crushed in the paper compressor. Her swollen face…

A man walking by a garden fence. Aak fictionspawn

Gary

That summer Ron stayed home a lot. His so called friends wasn’t treating him well. He’d had enough, he just wanted to be alone.

He started going for walks at night, roaming around the streets, exploring the gardens of others when they were sleeping.

Sometimes he saw someone walk in a distance. At first he was hiding in the shadows, but night after night he started following them. Sneaking after them, finding out where they lived or where they were going.

One night he saw Gary come out of Andrew’s house…

Zombie mink. Kjetil Aak

The Mink Farm

Rewritten and republished. Originally published on fictionspawn.com December 13. 2016.

They could feel the cold draft from the door opening. With it came fear, running down the hall, hundreds of small animals shrinking in terror. Steps. Slowly down the path. A snort. Spit. He stopped. He was standing in front of her cage. The man. The man of death.

They were four in their cage now. Number twenty-three was lying dead in the corner. He had been for quite a while, he was starting to smell.

The sound of the metal lock. A door opening. She ran in circles, incapable of getting anywhere.

The door closed. It wasn’t her this time. It was number twenty-two, another one of her siblings. He was carried over the floor. The man stopped. Picked up the death stick. The little animal was fighting to get loose. No one had ever escaped.

The man held him up in the air…