Nightmares of Cambodia

Nightmares of Cambodia.jpg

They had been chased out of the city. His father was dead. His brother. Even his little sister they had killed. Now it was just him and his mother. Slaves in the countryside. The Khmer Rouge had taken advantage of the American bombs and the fear of an external enemy far more powerful. Now they were in control.

He had to go out in the early morning, before light broke. The guards were tired after a long night, less attentive. If he was not back before sunrise they would kill them both.

Please, don’t, it’s too dangerous! His mother had begged him. She was asleep when he left. The hunger made him. He passed the guarded zone, but the forest was even worse. Landmines. There were landmines everywhere.

The night was dark. No stars. No moon. Just darkness. That was good, he was more difficult to see. Mushrooms. He picked one up. Poisonous. He dropped it and moved on. Something moved. A spider. He went closer. It was not big enough to fill his stomach, but it would be a mouthful for his mother. He had to be careful. Kill it before it bit him.

He saw a glow in a distance. A greenish glow in the darkness. It couldn’t be. It mustn’t be. He crouched. The glow came closer. He saw a face. It was. A beautiful woman’s face, but she had no body. A head hovering in the air. Her heart was hanging down underneath her. Ahp. Krasue, as his grandfather had called her. She was even more terrifying than the guards. More dangerous than bombs. More horrible than landmines.

He he threw himself down. She moved closer. A moan of suffering escaped her mouth as she passed right above him. Long. Deep. She was searching for blood.

She stopped, as if she was listening. Searching.  He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breath. He could see the green light on his hands in front of him. The moment lasted forever. She disappeared into the darkness.

He lay there for a long time. She could be back. She could be waiting. Light. Daybreak. He got up. Looking around, unsure if she was still there. He ran. He saw guards in the distance. He moved from bush to bush, crouching, creeping. His mother was still sleeping when he entered the hut. She would be hungry today as well. He had made it back, but he was not safe. They never were.

https://sites.google.com/site/thesecretbombingofcambodia/rise-of-the-khmer-rouge-and-pol-pot

https://creature373.wordpress.com/2016/09/08/origin/

Tears of Blood

Alone

Alone.jpg

The Moon was looking down on Earth as she always did. He was different these days. Lights everywhere. New things were orbiting him as well, just like she did. It was nice. It was lonely out there, all she ever had of company was rocks crashing violently into her.

One day a new object moved up from earth. Another satellite, she thought at first, but it was heading straight towards her. It landed softly, unlike like the brutal meteors. In a friendly manner. She’d never known anything like it.

A creature came out. A strange little being in a white suit of some kind. He stepped clumsily down on her. It tickled. Another followed. They jumped happily around with such grace, such beauty. He pinned a stick in her. It stung a little bit, but she didn’t care. He could do what ever he wanted.

After a while they went back into the little metal thing they had arrived in. It started shaking, flames came out of it. It burned her a bit, but she didn’t care about that. She didn’t want them to leave.

No. Please don’t go! Said Moon, but they did not listen. She saw them going back towards Earth, always so blue, green and full of life. How lucky he was, never alone. Maybe one day they would be back. Maybe, if she was lucky, they would even stay.

If she only shone bright enough.

https://www.cnet.com/news/man-in-the-moon-formed-by-magma-not-asteroids-data-shows/

http://www.headstuff.org/2014/07/three-micro-fiction-stories-moon-landing/#prettyPhoto

Humans

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

 

Domestic Violence

domestic-violence

He beat me again today. A lot. It’s just getting worse.

He seems to be doing something in the basement lately. He’s down there all the time. He doesn’t want me to see what he is doing. I’m scared.

Jessica closed the diary. Held it to her chest. She felt that for the first time in a long time she had a friend. A friend that understood her.

I’m home! She heard from upstairs. She ran up. She’d better not keep him waiting.

Where’s my food? He said. He seemed angry. Smelled of licker.

Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the time! She said, trying to explain.

Hadn’t had the time? He looked at her with a sceptical look. I bet you haven’t, you fucking whore… He turned the TV on, sat down at the table. What are you waiting for?

She hadn’t been out of the house for months, he didn’t let her. He kept beating her, insulting her. She couldn’t see any way out. She accepted it, suffering.

The diary gave her council. Marion Winston had been living the same hell many years ago. She knew she was not the only one.

She used to love him. He had been so strong, so charming. That was a long time ago now. She detested him. Every time he came home she felt how she hated him. Every time he called her whore, every single time a day, she wished him dead. But she feared him. His strong hands. The beating had gotten worse. Slowly she had lost everything. He pride. Her hope. Now she was to weak, to insecure to get away.

She got his food on the table. They sat down to eat. How was your day, honey? She asked, trying to cheer him up.

Horrible, he answered.

Horrible. Horrible meant danger. After food she cleaned the dishes, and went out to the hallway.

Where’ you going? She noticed the typical irrational jealousy in his voice.

She stops. Just down to hang up the laundry, honey. He grumbled and scratched his balls. She suspired. He was unpredictable when he was in this mood.

She went down the wooden stairs in the basement. It was an old house, more than hundred years. The basement had stone walls, built with rocks from the area. That’s where she had found it. The diary. In a crack between two rocks in the wall.

She took it out of the hole where she kept it. One of the rocks moved. It was loose. She took the book out. Her treasure. Her friend.

She sat down, started reading where she had left off. Mary was a young woman living in the same house many years ago. Her husband had been rich and powerful, and everybody was looking up to him. At home he was evil.

He’s been down there forever now. I hear sounds of rocks being moved. Of digging. I asked him once. He got angry. Said it was none of my business. I won’t ask him again.

Jessica was living the words. She felt she could her her lost friend talking through the walls, a voice whispering the words in the air.

I’m afraid. This secrecy. What is he up to? I need to get down there to have a look some day. I need to know.

Jessica looked up from the book. The voice. Was it real? It sounded like it came from the place she’d found the diary.

She put the book on the table, went over to the hiding place. She pulled the loose rock. It was moving. She had to coax it out, but slowly she got it. Behind there was darkness. A cold draft came from somewhere within. It smelled like a cave, of dirt and fungus. Rot.

The door to the stairs opened. What are you doing down there? He asked. The book was lying on the bench. She took it, wanted to hide it. Her shaking hands dropped it to the ground.

What’s that? He said, at the down end of the stairs now. ‘You hiding something?

It’s just a book, she said, scared.

A book? Who gave you a fucking book, you whore? What have you been doing? He was standing in front of her.

It was here, I… He punched her in the face. She fell to the ground.

Don’t lie to me bitch!

Please, baby… she pleaded.

He picked up the book. Read out loud.

He beats me all the time. He’s getting more and more…” Did you write this? Are you writing about me!? He hit her. Are you fucking someone? Hu? Bitch? He hit her again.

No one, I promise! Tears running down her cheeks.

He pulled her to her feet by her hair, pushed her over the table with her face down. Pulled her panties down. Started opening his belt.

I don’t know who you’ve been fucking, but I’m gonna fuck you like no one ever fucked you before, you fucking whore! You gotta learn who’s boss around h…

There was a metal bar lying on the table. She grabbed it, hit him in the face. He stumbled back.

You God damned… He was standing there, with one hand on his face. He looked crazy. She was terrified.

He hit her with his fist. She fell back. He pulled the bar out of her hand. She was holding on to the bench not to fall. He picked up the bar. You fucking hit me! His eyes were glowing with hatred.

Some strange smoke were coming out of the hole in the wall. Like a shadow. Abstract, dark.

That’s it, bitch, he said. Calmly now. Your dead. Looking into his eyes she knew he meant it.

Lifting the bar he said: I’ll bury you right here, and no one will ever…

The shadow grabbed his arm, stopped the strike. What the… Another shadow rounded his neck.

He was pulled with incredible strength through the wall. The big rocks were torn down and he disappeared into a dark hole.

She heard a scream. A stump sound. Then silence.

She waited. She waited for quite a while. Honey..? Honey? Are you OK? She heard the whisper again. Laughing silently. It’s over…

She grabbed a torch, tried to light it. It wouldn’t. She hit it a couple of times. Light.

In the end of the tunnel there was a room. The smell got stronger. A big bench were situated in the centre. Chains were attached to it. All kinds of knives and utensils where scattered around. A torture bench. Upon it lay a skeleton. The flesh was gone. There she had died. Marion Winston. Naked. Tortured.

On the floor lay the man who once was the love of Jessica’s life. His neck was twisted in a strange way. Broken. Marion had gotten her revenge. She had avenged them both.

Jessica left the room, went upstairs. She was going to need some cement to fix the wall.

http://www.studymode.com/subjects/women-and-domestic-violence-in-the-19th-century-page1.html

http://www.globalissues.org/news/2013/05/30/16679

Witchcraft

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Wheel of Time

wheel-of-time

Marcus turned the machine on. It shook, lights were flashing. He was not too sure if he dared enter. He swallowed, straightened his back, and opened the door. Inside he pushed the green button. There was a hell of a noise, then silence. Had it worked? He didn’t know. He opened the door, went out. Looked around. His house was gone. His neighbours house was there, but it looked a lot newer. It had worked. He had travelled back in time.

He walked down the street, looking at people. Their out-of-date styles. He was thrilled. A real time machine! Haha! And Runar said it was impossible to travel time. Now he was going to see! After a while he saw a girl sitting at a bench, crying. There was something familiar about her. He went closer. She was his mum! She was about his age, and beautiful.

He asked why she was crying, what was wrong. Nothing, she said. Then she said: My boyfriend’s an asshole. Marcus’ father. He sat down. They talked for a while. It was exiting. She really couldn’t have any idea! They got along instantly, which was natural, after all.

Why don’t you come with me for a cup of tea? She said after a while. My parents aren’t home.

They sat in her living room drinking tea. It was his grandparent’s house, but it smelled different, and the furniture was new. They talked and laughed. The atmosphere got better and better. Suddenly she got quiet. She kissed him. He didn’t know what to do. He got perplex. He’d never kissed a girl before, and she was more beautiful than he’d ever imagined, even when the Oedipus complex had been beating at it’s worst. He let him self go, returning her kiss. It’s just a kiss, he said to himself.

They were making out passionately, and she started undressing them both. Touching him. He couldn’t resist. She moved herself over him, slowly slipping him inside her. He knew it was wrong, but he let it happen. She rode him, first gently, then faster. He didn’t last long. He came with a loud moan, squirting her full.

Shame bubbled up inside him.

He had shagged his own mother! And she didn’t even know who he was. He felt like a rapist. A monster. He got on his feet, red as a tomato.

Are you OK? She asked, confused. Didn’t you like it?

He said he was sorry, that, yes, it had been wonderful, but he had to leave. He pulled his clothes on fast and rushed towards the door. She looked despaired.

Will I see you again? She asked. He stopped, looked at her. You definitely will, he said and got out of there.

Back in his own time he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. His head was spinning through contradictions and paradox. The date he had travelled to was nine months before his birth. He didn’t look anything like his father.

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

http://www.iep.utm.edu/par-log/

Beyond Faith and Reason

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The Strange Nest

the strange nest.jpg

They had gone on a trip with Andrew’s dads canoe, and stopped at a cabin in the woods. The door was closed but unlocked. They went in to have a look. An adventure! Mary was  thrilled.

Inside the hut was furnished and neat. It looked as if there had been someone there just recently, and they cleaned before they left.

There was something odd, though. A kind of strange nest in the corner. It was different from any nest they had ever seen. Cool! Said Andrew. He went over to the nest, took a fork from the drawer just underneath and poked it. A strange sound from inside the nest. He jumped back. Laughed. He went closer again. Looked into a hole in the side of the nest. Put his nose in front of it. Sniffed. Something came shooting out of the hole. Into his nose.

Aaaaah!! What was that?

Let me see! Said Mary. She looked into his nose. Nothing there but the same strange sound. I don’t know, she said. Looked like some kind of creep.

Disgusting! Shouted Andrew. He was blowing his nose in the tablecloth, but only snot came out. He blew harder.

His head exploded. Blood splattered on the walls, leaving the room red. Mary didn’t even scream. She just stared at the body on the floor. All the blood. What the fuck just happened?

Mary ran. She ran in terror. When she couldn’t run any more she sat down and cried helplessly.

She called the police when she got to the village. They went out to the cabin to have a look, although they didn’t really believe her. They entered the cabin carefully. It was clean and neat as if someone cleaned it just a while ago. A strange nest were hanging in the corner.

https://helenmvalentina.com/2016/12/13/the-owl/

https://lowlifemagazine.com/2016/12/20/5-phenomena-which-are-unexplained-to-this-day/

Stupid Mutant

Blame the Rebels

blame-the-rebels

Lía and Marco were lying in their tent. They had a tent for themselves now, after Marco had been promoted. They made love as if it was the last night in their lives, and it very well could be. Tomorrow they would go to find a government military camp on the other side of the hill. Recognition, was the mission. Maybe sabotage if possible, but that would probably come later. It was a dangerous project.

They held each other tight as they fell asleep. The next day they woke up, put on clothes and got out of the camp. No time for breakfast, they had to get over the hill before day break. They were in enemy territory. They had to find the army’s base of biological research, rumours said they were working on secret weapon.

They started walking. Six in number, they moved slowly like animals. They had done this all their life, all the soldiers had been in the resistance for a long time. They knew if the enemy discovered them they would be dead.

On the top of the hill they looked out on the jungle on the other side. They saw nothing but vegetation, but they knew very well the enemy was there.

They went down the hillside. The hill was steep, the vegetation dense. They had to cut their way through. On the foot of the hill the ground was less overgrown, they could move more easily.

The camp was no longer there. Tents were ripped to pieces and burned. Blood. Lots of blood, but no bodies. What had happened? They dared to walk into the open area. There was no one there. Everything was left behind. Weapons. Gadgets. Everything but people.

In the city Alejandro and Gabriela came out of the bar. Alejandro rocked and he knew it. Gabriela was the hottest girl in town.

Let’s go down to the chiringuito, said Alejandro. He was hungry.

Gabriela was about to answer when a shadow came over them.

They looked up. Something came swooping down, breaking down the walls, buildings falling into the streets. It picked up a man. Threw him into the wall of a big building. Then it started spitting fire.

It was huge as a building. Four arms. Reptile tail. Demon wings carried it. Black evil eyes.

Corre!!! Run. Alejandro grabbed Gabriela’s arm. They ran down towards the cathedral, the thick walls would give them shelter. The monster got there before them, It crashed into the building. The wall fell. The tower fell. A line of fire burned everything that could be burned. Then it flew down towards them through the street. As fire floated, they got into a backstreet. The heat burned their skin, but they were still alive. A woman were calling on them from an open door. Venid! Venid aquí!

Inside the flat the TV was on. The woman in the news said the monster was a weapon created to destroy the city. They were blaming the guerilla. Terrorist attack, they said. But how could a small group of soldiers in the jungle create something like this? Pablo was confused, it didn’t make any sense.

People were burned to death as the streets and the buildings were set on fire. Others were running around in terror. The army was set in, but neither bullets nor missiles seemed to have effect. The fire melted tanks, it’s arms tore buildings down. Soldiers were dying in hundreds.

Suddenly it flew off into the jungle where it came from.

Marco was leading his soldiers on. They needed to know what had happened.

They moved over to the other side of the camp. There was a hole in the ground. They looked down. Dead bodies were hanging on spikes on the wall. Harvested.

Skriiii!!! A scream. A horrible scream was heard behind them. A creature was flying above them. A monster. Some kind of mix of dragon and demon, a spawn of hell.

The beast opened it’s mouth, a hole in it’s face. Flames came out. Juan, Federico and Mica was burning. The screams stopped fast. Three carbonized bodies were lying on the ground.

Marco and Juan had survived. They were shooting at the monster as the monster were putting more bodies on spikes. It didn’t seem to care.

Lía crawled behind an missile launcher. Her leg was burned. An intense and strange cold pain. The monster turned it’s head towards the bushes where Marco and Juan were hiding. Spitting flames burned the bushes. Juan came out burnig. He ran some steps and fell dying. Marco had escaped the flames. He ran towards some big rocks. One of the monster’s hands crushed him in a pool of blood and gore.

Nooooo!!! Lía screamed. The monster turned towards her. Took a deep breath. She got up on the missile launcher. As the monster opened it’s mouth wide open she could see fire being born somewhere within. She pulled the trigger. The missile went straight into the flaming hell coming out of the monster’s mouth. It’s head exploded. A hell of fire, blood and brains unleashed over the ground and bushes. The monster fell to the ground.

Lía was lying between flames, burned trees and gore. She was hurt, but got up on her feet. Looked to the pile of meat who once was the love of her life. She swallowed. Denied herself to cry for now and limped off into the jungle. She needed to get back to the camp.

http://www.globalissues.org/article/532/media-manipulation

http://www.borev.net/2008/07/in_war_colombia_uses_new_form.html

The Witch Doctor

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Beyond Faith and Reason

beyond-faith-and-reason

Roger came into the laboratory. He had had quite a hard time getting out of bed today, they had been working long days for weeks.

He was quantum physicist. He studied the smallest parts of the universe. Particles. Quarks and all that stuff. Complicated shit. He had been interested in physics all his life and quantum mechanics intrigued him like nothing else.

Sometimes his scientific knowledge fell into conflict with his religious views. He then went to church. Meditated. Prayed. And he got back on the right track again. One day, he said to himself. One day the pieces will fit.

He was working in one of the biggest laboratories in Science Are Us Corporation. He was in charge of a smaller section, and his crew, three of the finest scientists in the world, were doing their jobs perfectly. They were secretly working on a project on the possibility of multiple universes. That was were the key was. The key to the great answers.

They seemed to be onto something big. If their calculations were right it could be one of the greatest breakthroughs in history of science. A peak hole through dimensions never before seen by man. Finally the sceptics would have to agree. Then they could start on the real subjects. Metaphysics. Eternal life. God. There would sooner or later be proof of the existence of God, he was sure of it.

His assistant was already there, adjusting the particle receptor.

Good morning! said Roger.

Good morning, said Jonathan. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Let’s get started! The rest of the crew was expected a bit later, but there was no reason to loose time. They got all the systems running and got to work.

Roger! said Jonathan after a while. Roger, something strange is happening here!

Roger ran over. They both stared at the computer. Signals. Photons they didn’t send. Particles arriving from nowhere. What does this mean?

R-roger..? stuttered Jonathan.

Roger looked up from the screen.

A creature appeared out of nothing. Or many creatures, he wasn’t sure. It seemed to keep changing form and colour. It was nowhere and everywhere. Present and non existent. Floating in the air and sticking to the walls like a nightmare of contradiction.

Oh my God… said Roger, but he knew his God had nothing to do with this. This went deeper than anything he had ever dreamed of. This didn’t even make sense.

A hand reached out towards him. A finger touched his shoulder. He felt a tingling sensation. His shoulder started dissolving into a bright light, as if his very matter turned into energy. The tingling feeling became electric. Plain old unbearable pain. As the light reached his chest he lost consciousness and died. The light kept spreading until his body disappeared into nothing. Everything he was died with him.All that remained was the reality he used to be a part of.

https://disdisingenousdilettante.wordpress.com/2016/03/01/the-abregado-debacle/

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

Return from Proxima B

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Pesticide

pesticide

Dale and Mary were making a story about an accident in an old pesticide laboratory. Many years had gone by since then, and the place was still abandoned.

Several workers had died of intoxication from the pesticide emission caused by the explosion. The hole area had for many years been considered a no go zone, because of the high level of toxicity. Now the danger seemed to be over, but the plants, the animals, everything was dead. Once green cultural landscapes and forests, the accident had left the place a toxic desert. The lake was a lifeless pool.

They passed by the old industrial worker’s houses, up to the pesticide factory. The buildings where beautiful, with the characteristic aesthetics of old industry. They didn’t make factories that way anymore. Big windows and decorations. Red brick walls. They walked around the area for a while, taking photos. The factory had all the signs of having been evacuated in a hurry. Things were thrown around everywhere. The floor was full of rubbish, chairs and tables were tipped over.

We have to be careful, said Dale looking up. This could fall down any moment.

At the end of the hall they found the laboratory. There was a big hole in the wall were the pesticide tanks had exploded. Old file drawers. Broken measure bottles and laboratory stuff. There seemed to be some construction in progress the day of the accident, carpenters tools where lying around.

Mary was going through some documents on a desk.

Look! she said, astonished. It’s a project log!

Dale were looking around in some piles of bottles on the other side of the room while Mary was investigating the file.

Listen to this! she said. The scientists were working on a new chemical, one that was going to be the most efficient ever!

She read out loud: “There have been some complications. When the X9 substance is mixed whit the common DEET, the insects seems to be strenghtned rather then weakened”. Further down it said: “The effect of the mixture seems to be even stronger on spiders”.

This is great! We need all of these documents. Dale looked around to find more. Suddenly he stopped, staring into the hall next door.

What’s that?

Some kind of strange web covered part of the opening.

He went over, took a pen from a drawer and poked it. Mary was taking pictures.

Something moved in the shadows. Keep taking photos! said Dale exited. They moved closer, carefully. They heard a sound behind them. They turned around. A giant spider jumped at them. It caught Mary. Pulled her through the door. She was screaming. Then there was silence.

Mary! shouted Dale. Mary!!! He grabbed a pointed saw from the floor. Mary! Where are you?

Dale… please, help me… She sounded weak. He moved into the other room. She was hanging on the wall, A sticky web was covering her body. He ran over to her, started cutting the web. It stuck to the saw like glue.

Her face was pale. Her lips blue. Dale… Look out… Her voice could hardly be heard. The spider attacked him from behind. Dale fell over. Hurt his knee. The Spider charged at him. He held out the saw, cut it. It bit him. He could feel the poison enter his blood. Shooting pain went through his body. He cut the spider’s head again and again. It fell lifeless to the ground.

Dale got up. Walked weakly over to where Mary was hanging, started cutting the web. He realized she was dead. He felt dizzy. He needed air. He staggered out of the opening in the wall. After a few steps he fell on the ground and died.

https://my3sixty5challenge.com/2016/10/06/day-147-the-roundhead-prelude-10-hiding-inside/

http://www.toxicsaction.org/problems-and-solutions/pesticides

Mantis Religiosa

 

Hate

hatred

Johnny hated Swedish people. They were disgusting. He wanted them all dead. Every day there were more of them in his neighborhood as well. He couldn’t stand it. Ever since a Swedish kid beat him up in kindergarten he’d hated them all.

They gave him bad dreams as well. Nightmares. Hordes of evil Swedish people doing him harm. But there was something else. Some creature in the darkness. At first it scared him.

One night, in the worst dream he ever had, the creature came out and destroyed the evil Swedes. The dark being is my friend, he thought. It will protect me from them.

After a while he started seeing it awake as well. He had come home from his favorite bar. A Swedish guy was working there now. Repulsively polite he had been. That was the worst kind. The polite ones. He was sitting there, staring at the wall. Hating. Hating the Swede in the bar. In his bar. His annoying smile, and that stupid language. Why couldn’t they just speak Norwegian like normal people? Then, in his darkest moment the shadows started moving. At first he got scared,then he recognized the creature from his dreams. It was looking at him. It’s eyes told him not to worry. We’ll get the fucking Swede. We’ll get him good.

From that day on the monster was there every night. He didn’t always see it, but he felt it’s presence. It was there, comforting him. It was them against the Swedes, and the more he hated, the stronger his protector seemed to become.

One day he read in the newspaper that a Swedish guy was found dead in his neighborhood. Good, thought Johnny. Goooood. He kept reading. The Swedish guy had left Discopub. That was his pub! It was the disgusting Swede from the bar! His body ha been found somewhere by the river. Torn to pieces while he was still alive. Tortured to death. The feeling came back. The presence. He looked up. The creature were lying in front of him, looking at him. Calmly. Satisfied. Could it be…? It’s eyes gave him the answer.

It’s what you wanted. The words came from inside Johnny’s head, made of his own thoughts.

Johnny responded, saying out loud: No… I didn’t want him to be murdered! You can’t murder people!

It’s too late. The monster didn’t look friendly anymore. It looked evil. It crawled towards him. The shadows seemed to follow it. Johnny moved backwards. What are you doing..? Let me be!

He was trapped in a corner. The creature pushed him to the floor. Licked it’s dark lips. Hunger. Evil. Johnny screamed. Help! Help me!!! The monster put his big mouth to his head. Sucked on it. His screams could no longer be heard. Slowly it swallowed him alive.

It left through the window. The nightmare had just begun.

http://www.globalissues.org/article/165/racism

http://www.short-story.me/horror-stories/734-the-three-dolls.html

https://fictionspawn.com/2016/06/20/the-apple-grove-2/

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