Tag Archives: illustration

The Voice in the Attic

by in Fiction, Monster and tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

The Voice in the Attic.jpg

You know what I want.

She hesitated for a moment. Looked towards the door to see if anyone was coming. She took off her dress.

Come closer. I want to see you. Feel you.

Invisible hands. Touching her, everywhere. She moaned. Leaned her back against the stone wall, letting herself get carried away.

She felt it stroking her cheek. Her hips. Her tits and her tight ass. All at once. She felt sexy. Hot. Her panties fell. She lifted her bottom up against the stone wall. Something soft stroking her most intimate parts. Penetrating her. Everywhere, deep into her inner being, her very soul. She moaned louder. Pushing against it, following its rhythm. Screaming as she reached climax. She sunk to the ground, exhausted.

Are you OK, honey? Her husband calling from down stairs.

Yes, baby, everything’s fine. She grabbed her dress. I… I just had a little… accident, but I’m fine.

OK, he said. Supper’s almost ready!

As she walked down the stairs she realized her panties were still on the attic floor.

She’d go up and get them later. A smile spread in her face. When her husband was asleep.

https://wordsonsergebenhayon.wordpress.com/2017/05/24/entities/

https://sensualwhispersblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/senseless/

Beauty and the Beast

Carpe Diem (The War of Cats and Wolves)

by in fantasy, Fiction and tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Carpe Diem.jpg

The wolves were attacking. They were fierce. They were many. Ever since the humans disappeared the cats had been controlling the cities. The wolves had been controlling the forests, and the woods lay between the towns. For generations the forests had been a no go zone, and the wolves had become more and more powerful.

The army of dogs stood no chance against the savage wolves. They were stronger, smarter and more. If the dogs fell, the cats would no longer be protected. Maybe they would be able to defend the buildings. Maybe not.

Rattam and Rattulf were standing on one of the more worn buildings, a bit outside of the town centre. The cats usually didn’t go here, it was a hard area to move in. The rats had their ways, their secret little roads through pipes and holes.

They’re losing. The dogs are dying. The cats are losing their grip.

Good, Ratulf said. The wolves are dangerous creatures, but they’re easier to handle than the cats.

They jumped into the old toilet on the edge of the floor. The tube underneath was hanging out of the fallen part of the building, and it moved as the two rats hurried down the tunnel, down to the ancient sewers.

Rattenga was waiting. Thousands of rats were waiting with him.

It’s time, Rattulf said.

I see. Rattenga looked at the crowd. Lets move.

The rats started running. They ran through tunnels and holes, moving fast where other creatures couldn’t. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousand of rats. No one had ever bothered to count.

The cats’ central control was sitting on top of an old skyscraper, or what was left of it. Uncountable generations had gone by since mankind destroyed themselves. Things had changed, but monuments of their civilization still remained.

The dogs are dying, said Cattast.

Catty was looking at the slaughter on the ground. There has to be something we can do! The despair in her voice cut into Cattast’s heart.

We need to stay here. We can’t take the wolves, we were counting on the dogs for that part. Maybe if we stay up here, the wolves will pull back.

We won’t have anywhere to go… Catty looked at the massacre underneath them. The dogs fought bravely, but there was no longer any hope.

There was a strange sound coming from a hole in the floor. Catty moved closer.

Rats!

Pouring up from the hole came a wave of rats. She jumped on them, started viciously ripping them to pieces as she always did whenever she saw them. They all did, but the rats kept coming. On the buildings around them the same thing was happening. They could hear screams.

The rats were everywhere, biting scratching. Dying in big number, cut to pieces, falling out of the edge, but new ones kept coming.The cats fell. From hundreds of old buildings around the city cats fell towards the ground where the wolves were raping the last of the dogs. It was an easy match. Another massacre. Soon it was all over.

The city of cats had been standing for thousands of years, ever since the time when they didn’t even speak. The wolves rested on the ground, licking blood off their lips. Laughing, howling, celebrating their victory. The cats were gone. The higher floors belonged to the rats now, like the sewers had since the beginning of times.

Rattenga ant Rattulf were watching the wolves devour the cat cadavers.

So what do we do with them? Rattulf asked.

We avoid them, said Rattenga thoughtful. We avoid them as we always did.

Some day things might change again.

http://www.salon.com/2015/03/14/when_humans_go_extinct_how_life_will_evolve_after_were_gone/

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/carpe-diem

Pests

Best Friends

by in Fiction and tagged , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Best Friends.jpg

Viggo had no friends. He felt lonely. He ate alone, he slept alone, he walked the streets alone. He really wanted to talk to someone, but he was just too shy.

He’d heard bars were good places to meet people, but he had never been to one. He thought he should probably give it a shot.

He ordered a whiskey. He was sitting there, alone. There were other people there as well, but he didn’t dare to speak to any of them. Even the bartender was scary.

If I just get a little bit drunk, maybe I’ll get rid of my social anxiety. He had another. And one more.

…so I’ve had this bar ever since. The conversation was started. Viggo and the bartender were even getting along. This alcohol thing was great, Viggo thought. Now he was talking with a another client as well. “So, where are you from?” If he drank a bit more, maybe he would even dare to talk to a girl.

…You’re an asshole, you know that? You’re a fucking. ah..ash… asshole, that’s what you are… Viggo was quite angry. The bartender seemed to ignore him completely. It pissed him off.

Hey, you shouldn’t be talking like that to… The other client held a hand out as to calm Viggo down.

Fuck yyyyou! Viggo got off his chair. He felt strong, invincible, but his legs didn’t really listen to him, and his eyesight was blurry. Still, he found it necessary to teach this guy a lesson. He sent out a punch towards his face. He missed, spun half a round, and fell on the floor.

That’s it, the bartender said. Lets get this guy out of here. The two men grabbed him by the legs and the shoulders and threw him out in the street. He stayed on the ground, his back supported by some garbage bags.

You assholes, he shouted when the two men went in. You’re some fucking bassstards, you know that? You…

What’s up? A voice beside him. He turned his head slowly. A pink elephant was sitting there watching him.

Those sons of bitches threw me… they fucking jus… threw me…

That’s horrible! The elephant looked chocked. What a vicious thing to do!

It… it is, isn’t it! Viggo was pleasantly surprised of the elephant’s support.

Hey, why don’t you come hang out with me? We can have a great time together.

Viggo was so happy. Someone wanted to hang out with him! They walked down the road together.

We’re going to need some more booze, said the elephant.

Viggo hesitated.

I’m not sure if that’s such a good i…

If we’re going to hang out, we’re going to need some booze. If not, I’m going to have to split.

Viggo didn’t want that. They went into a liquor store.

That one. The elephant was pointing at a bottle with a nice little etiquette. The liquid inside had a beautiful green colour.

They emptied the bottle together, falling from one side of the road to the other, laughing, screaming, breaking windows… you name it. It was great.

I love hanging out with you, man, said the pink elephant. You’re the best pal ever. Viggo felt the same way.

Viggo woke up in a cornfield beside a tractor. There corn was put down by big circles of tractor tracks all over. Viggo’s head hurt, and he didn’t see the pink elephant anywhere. How did he get here? What had happened?

He started walking home. He didn’t remember much, but he knew he’d had a hell of a time last night. The pink elephant was awesome, and he knew exactly where to find him:

Right there on the bottom of the bottle.

http://bookddl.com/bd-comics-mangas/5905-cosmik-rogercbr.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seeing_pink_elephants#History_of_the_euphemism

Existence

Witches Brew

by in Fiction, Horror, mythology and tagged , , , | 26 Comments

Witches Brew.jpg

Hello! An elderly woman was standing by the side of the road.

Good afternoon, Marcy said.

Could you please help me? My old knees hurt so much. I need to get home, on top of that hill. The old lady pointed with a crooked finger.

Marcy looked down the road. She really needed to get home, her mother was waiting, but she couldn’t leave the old woman like this.

Sure, I’ll help you!

The old lady grabbed her arm and together they walked up the steep hill, all the way through the door.

Thank you so much, my dear. Please stay for some soup,

No, thank you. I appreciate it a lot, but I really have to go! My mum’s waiting for me.

Please! It gets so lonely here all by myself.

Marcy looked at the door. The old woman seemed so sad, and she really wanted to be nice to her her.

Please…

OK, just one bowl, she said.

Please have a seat, my love. I’ll go warm the pot.

The old lady lit up some candles and went into the kitchen.

Poor old woman. Marcy looked around the room. She can’t even afford electricity.

It was a very small house. More like a cottage, really. The room was small, and it seemed to be both bedroom and living room. She could see a kitchen through an open door.

The room started smelling strange. She was hoping it wasn’t the soup.

It’s done! Come and have a taste!

Marcy went over to the kitchen. In the centre of the room there was a big pot over a fireplace. The light from the fire flickered on the walls, making the shadows alive. On the shelves there were glasses and jars with strange things in them. A frog? And what was that other one? Eyes?

The smell was unbearable.

Come, have a taste, said the woman. Come!

Marcy hesitated. What’s that smell?

Come, it’s delicious! Marcy walked over to her. She didn’t want to be rude, but she felt uncomfortable.

Closer… The face of the old hag looked different. Her eyes had some vicious desire in them.

I’m sorry, said Marcy politely. I think I’ll have to go.

The hag grabbed her arm. You’re not going anywhere, gorgeous! You’re the main ingredient! Her smile was no longer friendly.

What are you talking about? Let me go!

Get in there! Your youth and beauty will be mine! Hahahaha! She was a lot stronger than Marcy had imagined. Marcy tried to pull away.

Let go of me!

The hag held her and pushed her towards the pot. Marcy put her foot against the old woman’s chest, and let her self fall backwards. The woman followed her move, went flying through the air, into the pot.

Aaaaahh!!! Help me!

Marcy leaped over to help her. She was already dissolving in the strange stew. She grabbed her hand. A moment later she had her arm in her hand. Nothing more was left. She dropped it. She moved backwards towards the door, mouth and eyes wide open, unable to scream.

Touching the door knob she stopped. The smell in the room had changed, it was no longer unpleasant. It was a smell she’d never smelled before, It was a smell of mystery, of deep knowledge. A smell of nature, of unknown forces and wisdom. She turned around and walked towards the stew. She looked into the pot, at the strange liquid where she had just seen the old woman disappear. She let the damp go into her nostrils, fill her body with a pleasure she’d never experienced. She grabbed the long dipper.

It tasted strange. Different from anything she’d ever known. Like a call from a dream, a re-encounter of lost memories. She emptied the dipper.

The room started spinning. She sat down on a chair. She felt good, too good. The colours were stronger. The shadows deeper. Reality more real. She looked around. A book was lying on the table. She opened it. Recipes. Eternal youth. Curses. Magic spells.

She didn’t want to go home any more. She wanted to stay right where she was.

https://writerishramblings.com/2017/01/29/flash-fictions-forest-fire-the-witch/

https://colombagecorner.wordpress.com/2017/05/31/the-witch-hunt/

Plague

Asylum

by in Fiction, Horror and tagged , , , , , | 34 Comments

Asylum

Something is running around in the halls at night. Something’s going through the walls at night. Something’s gonna grab your…

…and how does this make you feel, Garth? Dr Redwood cut him off.

Garth said nothing.

Does it scare you?

No, it doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t scare me at all. His eyes flickered around the room.

Why doesn’t it scare you, Garth? The doctor asked. Don’t you think it’s dangerous? The words came out slow and calm.

It’s dangerous, yes. Very dangerous. Not to me, he added. It’s not dangerous to me. He looked up and peered straight into Dr Redwood’s eyes. Dr redwood didn’t like the glow in them. Slowly he put his finger on the button below his desk.

It’s not me it’s after. It’s not after me at all.

And who is it after, Garth? A long pause. No answer. Is it after someone else?

Garth started giggling. Hihihihihihi… Is it after someone else…. Hihihihihi… He leaned over Dr Redwood’s desk. Someone…. Else….

Dr Redwood pushed the button. Three men dressed in white came running in.

No! Noooo! Garth tried to get away, but they grabbed him. Pushed him to the floor, strapped his hands behind his back.

I don’t want to go! No!

Dr Redwood sat for a while, looking at his paper, making a few notes. Paranoid delusions still the same, or worse. Diagnosis stays the same. A bit further up it said Schizophrenic Paranoid Disorder.

Life went on as usual in the old hospital, but soon other patients started talking about the monster as well.

It’s like an epidemic, said nurse Tracy. They’re all seeing the same things. No wonder, being locked up here for so long.

Well, most of them can’t really be running around in freedom either. The scissor-incident last week…. Carlton got up form the chair. Don’t worry, they’ll probably forget all about the monster soon enough.

He picked up the key set and left the room for the night round. Down the hallway he could hear Garth talking in his room.

Everything OK, Garth? He looked into the little window in the door. Garth was staring at the wall.

Everything’s fine… It’s not me she’s after.

Well, you should get some sleep. You’re keeping everyone awake.

OK, said Garth… I’ll go to sleep now. It’ s not me she’s after….

Carlton closed the hatch. Crazy fuck, he whispered to himself as he walked away, knowing Garth couldn’t hear him.

The lights went out. Now what…? He turned around and headed back towards the nurses’ office.

He heard footsteps behind him, further down the hall.

He could see something. Something moved slowly over the floor. A tall figure.

Who’s there?

It stopped. Turned it’s head. Two beady, red glowing eyes. Carlton wanted to say something, but his mouth got stuck half way open. The creature was coming towards him.

Tracy had just turned on the flash light when Carlton came falling in, slamming the door shut behind him.

A monster! A horrible creature! A… A ghost or something! It came straight at me!

Oh, my… He’s been working here for too long.

Come, sit down. Relax. There’s no such thing as ghosts, you should know that. It was probably just Garth running around.

No… Garth was in his room…. Everyone were in their rooms…

So, so… I’ll see if I can fix the light, it’s probably a blown fuse. She turned around. Something was there. The light from the torch lit up a bloodstained dress, black hair in front of the face. Tracy didn’t move. The dark creature lifted her head. Red staring eyes. Cuts all over.

Doctorrr… Redwoooooddddd…

The flash light fell out of Tracy’s hand. The lights came back on. She fainted and fell to the ground.

Tracy opened her eyes. Dr Redwood was sitting by her side. Carlton was holding her hand.

There we go, said the doctor. Now tell me what happened.

The look in her eyes… So much pain. So much hate… So much hate! so much hate…

What did this… creature look like.?

She was tall… had a dress on. Stained… She had scars all over her face. Wounds. Around the mouth and eyes. And she had some kind of necklace… An amulet with some stone. Tracy started crying. Oh, doctor, it was…

The look on Dr Redwood’s face made her stop. He said nothing, just staring at her with his eyes open. Hands shaking, sweat was running from his forehead.

Are you OK? Suddenly she seemed better off than him.

Er… yes! Ehem… Yes, I’m fine. S-so what did she do?

She… I remember now… She asked for you!

Lights out. Darkness. Someone laughing.

Dr Redwooooooddddd…. I’ve been searching for you…

Who’s there?

Laughter.

Rebecca? Rebecca, is that you? His voice was shaking, trembling.

It was all part of the treatment… I… I never meant to…

Treeeeaaatmmment… of rape… and torture….. The voice sounded amused.

Things got out of hand! He started crying. I’m sorry, Rebecca! I’m sorry!

Sssssoooo am I…. ‘Cause you’re coming with meeeeee… to the deep insanity beyond… Hahahaha….. Hahahahahaha….

The laughter echoed through the halls. They could hear the patients join in, one by one.

…hahhahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA!!!

Silence. The lights came on. Carlton and Tracy looked at each other, then at Dr Redwood.

He was staring into the air with a crazy grin on his face. A twisted, sinister face of madness.

Then he started screaming.

http://www.cchr.org/cchr-reports/psychiatric-rape/introduction.html

https://www.quotev.com/story/5641712/Ghost-Stories/59

Prophetic Poetry

Wars Far Away

by in Fiction and tagged , , , | 24 Comments

Wars Far Away

He didn’t know much, but he knew he was a good guy. He knew there was a war going on, too. Far away. He didn’t know much about it, but he knew the enemy was evil. That’s what his government said, so that was the way it was. He didn’t care much, really. It wasn’t his problem.

Years went by. He liked watching TV. Sometimes the news came on, and sometimes he watched them. He liked the short ones, the ones between the shows. The longer ones on the boring channels seemed to disagree with him anyway, so he used to avoid them. The entertainment channel had better news anyway, short and direct. They showed things as they really were, as he wanted to see them, but they said the war had grown bigger.

He didn’t like that.

There were elections again, and he voted for the same party he always had. Only an idiot would change now, in the middle of a war and everything. His government wasn’t to blame for it, the invasion had been for the greater good. The enemy was evil.

The news kept talking about unpleasant things in other parts of the world. He didn’t want to watch them any more, he was happier not knowing what was happening. He usually changed the channel when the news came on.

They said the war was coming closer.

One day there was no TV. He didn’t know why. He didn’t like it. Soon he saw dark smoke in a distance. It came from town, where his children had moved when they moved out. Where his friends lived. Something was moving on the other side of the big fields by his house. Cars. They were coming.

He went out with his hands above his head. There was nothing he could do but surrender. A big gun was attached to the roof of one of the cars. He could see a man behind it. The man pointed the gun straight at him and fired.

The war wasn’t far away any more.

http://enhancingmylife.blogspot.com.es/2011/01/ignorance-is-dangerous.html

https://helenmvalentina.com/2017/05/03/captured/

The Old Man who Knew

T-birds and Motorcycles

by in Fiction, Horror, Monster and tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

T-birds and Motorcycles

The road lay straight in front of them as far as the eye could see. The rocky desert was vast, and flat except for some scattered hills and small mountains. Sky and earth. It was beautiful.

We camp by the foot of that mountain! Jack shouted to Mario. The rest would follow. They drove off the road, out on the rocky carpet of the desert. They had to go slow, but their bikes would take them there.

They stopped underneath a steep cliff.

Jack looked a the sky. We’ll have shadow here tomorrow morning. We’ll camp here. Mario agreed.

Mario was unofficially second in charge, and a great fire maker. He could find wood for a fire anywhere. Michael got out the cooking pot. , and John started cutting meat and veggies for the stew. They were eight strong men, and quite a bit of food was necessary. Heaps of beer and whiskey, too.

They went to sleep under the stars around the bound fire. Silence. Peace.

Jack woke up. A sound. A scream, like an eagle, but stronger. Deeper.

Mario was already awake, looking out into the desert.

There’s something out there, he said.

I heard it too. What is it?

No answer. The two men sat there, looking out into the darkness.

Something moved in a distance. Something big.

Wake up! The rest of the crew was pulled out of their dreams.

What’s up, man… John was rubbing his eyes.

Another scream. He jumped up.

What the fuck was that?

It came from the other side last time… Jack said. Either it’s very fast or there’s more of them.

Either way it’s bad news. We saw it. Over there. It was big, bigger than a man. A lot bigger. We…

Aaaaahhh!! They turned around, getting their guns out.

What was that?

Michael! He fucking just disappeared! He was right there, behind me! Perky was white as a sheet.

OK, everybody stay calm. Jack was at his best when things got intense. Form a circle, backs to the centre. There’s something out there, and it’s fucking dangerous.

Silence. Waiting. Two gunshots.

It was there! I saw it! It’s huge. It ran behind those rocks! John was pointing with his smoking pistol.

You saw it? What was it?

I don’t know, it’s too dark… It looked like… It looked like a fucking dinosaur, man. A T-Rex or something.

T-Rex? That’s crazy, dinosaurs doesn’t exist.

I don’t know! I’m just telling you what I fucking saw, man!

Aaaaahh!!!

They all spun around. There was nothing there.

Mario? Where the fuck is Mario?

No one said anything.

Mario was gone as well.

Let’s get the hell out of here!

They jumped on their bikes and drove off. Jack was in front. After some hundred meters he realized the lights behind him were gone. He looked over his shoulder. There was no one there. He kept driving. He could see the highway. Just a little bit more…

Something struck him from the side. He was lying on the ground. His back hurt, and so did his arms and legs, but he could move. He got on his feet. A shadow ran past him in the darkness. It ran on two legs, and it was big, double his height.

He turned around. It was staring down at him. It was a bird. A wingless bird bigger than a horse. It’s brutal beak, built to cut meat, to destroy, was bigger than the tank on his bike. And he had a big bike.

He had lost his gun in the fall.

It lifted a foot. Grabbed him by the chest. Claws went into his shoulder and ribs, pushed him down. He didn’t scream, just lied there, looking up on the terror bird. It held it’s head a bit on one side, then on the other. Examining him with both it’s eyes.

The big beak came down fast. He pulled his head to one side. It cut his cheek, but he was still alive. Blood was flowing down on his ear. He felt something by his hand. He grabbed it. His gun.

He pointed it at the bird’s head. Emptied it. Beak splints, blood and feathers. The bird fell dead to the side.

He could hear shrieks. Bird screams coming closer. He got his bike up. Jumped on. Pushing down the pedal once. It didn’t start. Twice. Nothing. He saw them now. Many of them, running straight at him. Third time. Engine sound. He stepped on the pedal. The bike went sliding from side to side and up on the road.

He drove off at high speed and kept driving.

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

http://listosaur.com/science-a-technology/10-animals-once-thought-to-be-mythical-or-extinct/

http://www.doc.govt.nz/nature/native-animals/birds/birds-a-z/takahe/

Mantis Religiosa

Dragon’s Breath

by in fantasy, Fiction, mythology and tagged , , , | 32 Comments

Dragon's Breath

 

After a long walk through forest clothed hills and mountains they arrived at the cave entrance. It was right where they had read in the Cave Adventurer Magazine, and half covered by bushes and other vegetation. They walked down a big tunnel, deep into the ground. A practically unexplored cave, for them to investigate.

They found a lake, a beautiful underground lake with a waterfall coming out of a tunnel in the wall. Huge columns was hanging from the roof, their flash lights revealed amazing colours on the walls. It was spectacular.

They went for a swim. The water was cold and refreshing, and probably drinkable though they did not dare to try. They got up, dried up and kept moving. The halls were getting bigger and bigger, the tunnels wider and the roof could hardly be seen.

Look! Said Ali. What a strange wall!

What is it? Mohammed lifted his hand, touched the shells in front of him. The shells were hard, there was something soft underneath, something organic.

Amazing!

Step aside! Ali was holding a rock.

No! Don’t…

Ali threw the rock. It bumped into the soft wall and fell down.

What did you do that for? Said Mohammed.

Just to see what happened, Ali laughed. You never kn…

The wall moved. A bit to one side, and a bit away from them.

Grrroaawwww…

A sound. A strange, deep roar from the deep of the cavern. The wall disappeared in the darkness.

I think we should probably get out of here… Said Mohammed.

A huge reptile-like head, bigger than a bus, bigger than a building appeared in the light from their torches. It was staring at them. Smoke was coming out of it’s nostrils. A dragon. A real, living dragon was looking straight at them. It looked angry.

Run!!!

They ran. Ran towards the tunnel they had come in through. Ali looked back. Light. Fire. The heat came closer. They could feel their skin burn, their hair curl. They ran out of the cave. Kept running until they couldn’t run any more.

They lay in the grass catching their breath. The earth started shaking. Smoke came up from the ground. In a huge explosion of rock and fire the dragon broke out through the mountain. It flew up in the air, made a loop. Turned towards them. Charged, spitting fire. Burned them both alive.

Then it flew off towards town.

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

https://imaginarycreatureauthority.wordpress.com/2017/06/13/dragon-species-guide/

Fallout

The Little Devil

by in Fiction, Monster, mythology and tagged , , , , | 19 Comments

The Little Devil

A little devil was watching the world. He hated it all, but sometimes it amused him. All these strange humans killing each other in the name of God or good or morals or whatever excuse they had. So much fun.

He wanted to do something different today. He usually spent his days corrupting the minds of the rich and the powerful, but it was getting boring.

He wanted to corrupt a child.

The little boy was playing with his friend, a girl the same age. The little devil looked at them for a while, then he moved closer.

This is for you, said the little boy. He held out a bouquet of flowers.

Oh, thank you! Said the little girl with a big smile.

The little devil frowned in disgust. He went over, and whispered in the boys ear:

Go play closer to the cliff…

The little boy looked over at the cliff.

Over there is a great place to play, he said.

At the edge of the bluff? But we’re not allowed to go there…? The little girl looked at the forbidden part of the garden.

It’s all a conspiracy to keep you away from fun….

That’s because our mommies don’t want us to have fun! Said the little boy. Come, let’s go! It’s probably great there! He started walking closer. The little girl followed, a bit doubtful. She did like to have fun.

The went over to the cliff. There was a log way down. The little girl waited some meters away from the edge as the little boy was looking down.

Come! He said. It’s awesome!

I don’t wanna! Said the girl. She was afraid of heights, but didn’t want to admit it.

Give her candy…

I’ll give you candy if you come closer.

The little girl hesitated. Candy? She did like candy.

She walked closer.

Push her…

The boy looked at the girl. His best friend. He felt an urge inside, a strange, dark drive of evil, pulling him towards her.

Push her…

He moved closer, rising his hands.

Somewhere inside his heart was screaming no. A voice was coming from the love of his friend, an emotion of warmth, a feeling of belonging. No.

Do it!

No! He said out loud.

No what? Said the little girl, looking puzzled.

He stood there, looking at her. A part of him really wanted to see her fall. Just to see what happened.

Let’s go play somewhere else, he said. I don’t like it here.

As they ran back over the grass, the little devil’s stomach was revoking with loath. Vomiting he flew off to the parliament. He needed to restore his faith.

http://www.globalissues.org/article/590/corruption

https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2015/03/04/golem/

El Duende Pt 1/3

Not My Responsibility

by in Fiction, Monster and tagged , , , | 24 Comments

Not My Responsibility.jpg

Martin was sitting on his farm, in his chair, listening to the cold wind outside. It was mid-winter, and the fire in the fireplace felt good. He a bit fat, short for a Norwegian, but satisfied with himself and his life. If people could just be more like him, everything would be better.

The news were taking about horrible things going on in the world. Good thing he was there on his farm, protected from all these horrible people. It was probably their own fault anyway.

A knock on the door. He put on the chain and opened the door a bit. Two people were standing outside in the darkness. They where shivering from the cold. Please, they said. They were different from him, from some foreign country.

Please, said the man. We’ve had an accident, and we’re lost in the woods. There’s no way we can get anywhere. What do we do?

That’s not my problem, said Martin. Call a cab.

But we have no money.

Get lost! Said Martin, and shut the door.

A bit later he looked out of the window. Footprints towards his barn. Those bastards.

He found the same couple inside the barn. His barn.

Get the fuck out of here! He shouted, with his hay fork at hand. The man in his barn got angry.

Please, my wife hurt her leg. Why can’t we stay? Why does it matter to you, we just want to avoid the cold?

You’re on my property, said Martin.

But it’s so cold out, said the woman with tears in her eyes. Please…

Martin lifted the hay fork.

GET OUT!

They got up on their feet, and left. In the doorway the man turned around.

You’re a horrible person you know that? He said.

Martin took a step towards him.

They left and started walking down the road.

The next day they were found frozen to death in the forest. Martin knew it wasn’t his fault, it was their own for getting lost. He had no responsibility for the mistakes of others.

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/indifference

https://bobbiblogger.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/every-time-we-witness-an-injustice/

Lost Faith in Humanity

Troll

by in fantasy, Fiction, mythology and tagged , , , , | 17 Comments

Troll.jpg

This is a story is based on Norwegian folklore tale traditions. It might be a bit darker, though.

There was, once, a long long time ago, three brothers called Per, Paal and Espen. One day they were out in the forest looking for mushrooms. Their father had told them to go. After quite a long time looking, they hadn’t found anything. It was getting dark, but they didn’t want to go home empty handed.

The sun went down.

We’re going to have to head home, said Paal. We won’t find anything in the darkness.

They started walking.

Haven’t we been here before? Per was looking at some tall trees.

We have, said Paal. Espen said nothing. His brothers was always making fun of him, so he usually was quite quiet.

Paul sat down on a rock. Espen looked at the sky.

I think it’s that way, he said.

Shut up, said Paal. What do you know?

Yeah, what do you know, repeated Per. You never do anything but sit at the fireplace playing with the ashes.

But the sky is brighter down there. That means it has to be where the sun went d…

Shut up! Said Paul. I need to think.

The two older brothers was talking between them. Espen went a bit away. They were always making fun of him and made him feel bad.

He heard a noise. Trees breaking. Rocks falling. Per and Paul jumped up on their feet. What was that?

Something big could be seen between the trees. It looked like a mountain, with trees on the top.

But it moved.

I smell Christian man’s blood!!! Said the mountain. It was a troll, and he sounded angry. Paal screamed. A scream of a high tone, like the scream of a little girl.

The troll heard him. In two steps it was upon them. Now Per screamed as well. The troll stepped on them both with one huge foot.

Espen was looking at the horrible scene of the troll picking up his crushed brothers and devoured them.

Mmm… Christian man’s blood. Smells bad, but sure tastes good… Said the troll. He spoke slowly, his voice was deep and dark.

He sniffed in the air. Looked around. Sniffed his fingers. Sniffed the air again. I smell more Christain blood!!! He screamed. Younger Christain man’s blood!

Espen was hiding under a root. He closed his eyes shut, his hands was shaking.

Where are you, you little creep? Come out, so I can eat you!

He started ripping up the trees. Espen knew he would find him sooner or later. He had to do something.

I’ll come out! Just one condition! Said Espen.

Condition? The troll was confused. He wasn’t used to negotiations. What condition?

I don’t like to be eaten raw. I’m a rather exquisite dish. You probably never had anything like me. I’m delicious!

You do smell interesting, said the troll thoughtful.

I’m really best served grilled on vivid fire, said Espen.

On fire… said the troll. Sounds good. I like grilled stuff…

Get some firewood and so we can get started, said Espen. This is going to be delicious!

The troll was exited. A long time had gone by without a meal like this one. He started getting a lot of wood, putting it in a pile. I’ll help you, said Espen and came out of his hiding place. He got some smaller wood and dry plants to get the fire started, but at one part he put some wet grass he found by a small pool of water.

Thank you, Cristian man. You’re quite nice little, man, aren’t you. I’m looking forward to eating you.

Me too, said Espen. The troll looked at him, puzzled. A big, friendly smile spread over his face. He wasn’t used to food helping out like this. They usually tried to get away, tried to fight him and stuff. He liked this.

But how will we get the fire started, said the troll in his slow way.

Don’t worry! Said Espen. I have matches! Look! The troll was astonished. He hadn’t seen matches before. He was looking eagerly. He was almost a bit sad he was going to eat this nice little guy, but he wasn’t the one to miss a good meal.

Espen lit a match, throwing it into the wet part of the grass. It was put out. He lit another one, and the same thing happened.

Why doesn’t it work? Said the troll. He was getting a bit sceptical. This seemed a bit too good to be true. What if the little man was trying to fool him in some way?

The grass is a bit wet, said Espen. We need something dryer. The troll looked around, scratching his head. Dryer than the grass around here? What could be…

Hey! Said Espen. Your tail seems quite dry! Wy don’t we light your tail on fire , and then we can light the rest of the fire with your tail?

The troll looked at him. But… Isn’t that dangerous?

Noooo! Said Espen. I light my tail on fire all the time, but you see, my tail is wet too! Espen was dangling his belt, showing it to the troll.

The troll thought for a while. OK, he said. Let’s give it try.

Espen caught the troll’s tail with his hands, an lit a match. The dry grass and bushes on the trolls tail lit on fire immediately. The fire spread up, lighting the plants and trees on his back on fire.

Aaaaahhh! Screamed the troll. It burns! It burns! He ran off into the forest. The fire spread to the trees, putting the whole forest on fire. Espen was never heard from again.

And snip, snap, snout, then the tale was out.

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

https://belindasstorydatabase.wordpress.com/2009/07/09/eating-match-with-troll/

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

El Duende Pt 1/3

Swift

by in Fiction and tagged , , , , , | 31 Comments

Swift.jpg

She was looking out over the edge of the nest. She would soon fly. She had been looking over this edge all her life, waiting for her mother and father stop by with food. But now a new time was emerging, she could feel until the tip of her feathers. She was dreaming of the stars, to sleep thousands of meters up in the air, to hunt insects between the houses in the evening.

Her parents had been away for a long time now.  She could see the little insects in the air in front of her. She could catch them, she knew it. She moved carefully up on the edge. Her big wings on each side. She left the edge. Fell towards the grown, testing her wings. She didn’t get it right. The heat from the sun was beyond anything she’d imagined. She got his wings out, moved forward, but didn’t get height. She hit ground.

She wasn’t really hurt, but knew she was in trouble. She was out of her element, like a fish out of water. She was a creature of air. Now she was stuck to the ground. Her short legs and big wings made it difficult to move around. They were not meant to get her up from nothing, they were meant to keep her in the air. She was stuck.

She jumped clumsily around. Feet in shoes stepping around her. She jumped towards the wall where it seemed a bit safer, but still people were stepping close. A dog came running. A human was calling it. The dog saw her, started hitting her with its paw. The human grabbed the dog and pulled it away.

There was a hole in the wall. It was similar to the spot where her nest had been. Safety. She ran towards it in small jumps. She was almost there. Two eyes stared at her from the darkness. Two yellow eyes with a vertical line in the centre.

Look, a bird!

Hands were grabbing at her. She tried to get away, but they picked her up.

There were two of them, and they were communicating with strange sounds. They carried her away. Into a door. Up stairs. In another door and out on a balcony. She could see the ground far below. Height. Afternoon wind blowing through her feathers. Other birds flying by at high speed. The human was holding her high in the air. It opened its fingers. She closed his eyes for a moment. Took a deep breath. Opened them. Jumped. She fell outside of the fence. Opened her wings. They filled with air underneath. Slowed down her fall, made her go forwards. A wall. She was going to crash. She leaned to one side, and her direction followed, flying down the street and up in the air to join her fellow swifts in an air born life.

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

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

Perspective

Johnny

by in Fiction, Mystery and tagged , , , , , | 20 Comments

Johnny.jpg

I wrote this little story in class at a creative writing course many years ago. The original Spanish version can be found below. Versión española debajo.

Johnny left the tavern. Fucking Indian. He’d won all his money. The cards had been against him all night long. He had nothing left. He walked down the main street and out of town. The full moon lit up the dry landscape. A beautiful night if he’d been more lucky.

He went up the hill to his camp. He ate the last can of beans. Cold. Fucking Indian. His face was left printed in his mind. The satisfied smile. The feather on his head. The feather… The feather! There, behind the bushes he saw it again. The Indian was walking on the path, a bit further down. He hadn’t seen him. This was his chance to get his money back.

The Indian was walking away from the village. Johnny knew not where to. He neither cared. He wasn’t going to make it there. He followed him. Closed in slowly. Got his knife out of the belt. Closer. He saw a sudden light. An aura around the Indian. It was stronger then the moon. Soon the it lit up more than the loon. Our hero stopped. The light blinded him completely until it shut off abruptly. A falcon flew up towards the moon. Johnny could swear he heard the laugh of the Indian, mocking him. A feather fell slowly towards the ground.

…

Este pequeño cuento escribí hace ya muchos años en un curso de escritura creativa. Esta es la versión original.

Johnny salió de la taberna mosqueado. El puto indio, pensó. Le había ganado todo su dinero. Las cartas habían estado en su contra toda la noche. No le quedaba nada. Bajó la calle principal del pueblo. La luna llena iluminó el paisaje seco. Una noche bonita si hubiera tenido más suerte.

Johnny subió el monte a su campamento. Se comió la ultima lata de alubias. Fría. Puto indio. Su cara se le había imprimido en su mente. La sonrisa satisfecha. La pluma en la cabeza. La pluma… La pluma! Ahí, detrás los arbustos lo vio otra vez. El indio estaba andando por el camino, más abajo. No le había visto. Ahora era su oportunidad de recuperar el dinero perdido.

El indio se alejaba del pueblo. Johnny no sabía a donde iba. Tampoco le importaba. No iba a llegar. Lo siguió. Se acercó más y más. Sacó el machete del cinturón. Más cerca. De repente vio una luz. Un aura alrededor del indio. Pronto iluminó más fuerte que la luna misma. Nuestro héroe se paró. La luz le deslumbró totalmente hasta que se apagó de golpe. Un halcón subió hacía la luna. Johnny podía jurar que escuchó la risa del indio otra vez, riéndose de él. Una pluma caía lentamente hacía el suelo.

Lost Faith in Humanity

by in Fiction, Mystery and tagged , , , , | 55 Comments

Lost Faith in Humanity.jpg

He had lost faith in humanity. People just didn’t seem to understand. They didn’t want to understand. They didn’t want to come to conclusions, they didn’t even want to get along. Irrational madness everywhere. There was no hope.

He went for a walk to clear his head. The night was as dark as his mind, no stars, not even street lights. The power seemed to be gone, at least in his street.

He walked down to the river. The lamp posts were still working down there. He sat down on a bench, watching the river. He was tired. He’d been trying to find a solution. He knew there was, if people could just open their eyes. All this hate, all this closed-mindedness, all this… strange moral foundations. He didn’t see any possible way any more.

Presidents threatening with nuclear attacks, and people seemed to think it was OK. No one seemed to care about anybody but themselves. Sacrifying other people’s lives and homes was no problem, but they sure would not scarified their own. Incapable of putting themselves in the place of others, they were constructing their own doom. Fundamentalism everywhere. Christian fundamentalists. Muslim fundamentalists. But that wasn’t the real problem. It was greed and egocentrism.

As he was sitting there, watching a plastic bottle tangled in some kind of rope floating down the river, he heard a voice behind him.

Such a beautiful night, is it not? It was a woman.

I guess it could be, he answered without turning around. He just kept looking apathetic at the bottle disappearing down the stream.

May I sit? The woman asked. Her voice was strange. Metallic, yet soft. He thought he could hear a longing, a sadness of lost loved ones. She had a strange accent he’d never heard before.

He glanced at her. Shrugged. Sure, why not.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. The world could end for all he cared. People sucked anyway, and this one probably did as well.

She sat down beside him.

I can help you, she said. It doesn’t have to be this way. He looked at her. She was looking straight forward, into the thin air, as if she was talking to someone else. There was no one else there.

Er… He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. She was beautiful, this girl. She looked young, yet wise, experienced. Green eyes with a yellow shine to them. Her lips was full and red, her skin pale, as if she hadn’t been in the sun for ages.

She leaned towards him. Trust me, she whispered. She touched his cheek, moved his head a little. Kissed him. Her lips felt good. Her tongue entering his mouth just a little bit. He met her. She had her hand on his chest, stroking him. She started kissing his cheek. Her hand moved down on his abdomen. She kissed his neck. He felt something sharp. Teeth? They entered his skin. He moaned in a rush of pain and pleasure, spreading out under his skin, throughout his body. Beyond orgasms and dopamine. Deeper, more real. Beyond life. He disappeared into darkness and beauty.

He came to himself. She was sitting over him, one leg on each side of his lap. She looked different. More beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. A goddess. She bit her lip. Blood.

Drink. Her mouth next to his as she spoke. She kissed him again. Blood poured into his mouth, down his trout. It felt good. Tasted good. His mind wandered off again. He was somewhere else, he saw himself from outside, his life, mankind, everything. Nothing really mattered. This time he didn’t come back.

Come. She took his hand. The world had changed. The darkness was no longer dark. The world of humans was no longer important. And he was hungry. Thirsty. Thirsty for blood.

Let’s find someone to eat.

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2017/04/07/donald-trump-trumps-history-teacher-and-bashar-assad/

https://mcdulac.wordpress.com/2015/04/05/flash-fiction-hipsters-versus-vampires/

Tears of Blood