Loading...
Horror tales to be posted every weekend -- for Monday viewing... unless a different date is noted... perhaps.


Monday, June 30, 2014

HAND ON THE CROSS



(Season 2, Episode 42)




HAND ON THE CROSS
(Bryan, Texas)


Unbelievably,
I have heard that some vampires can, 
By the full will of their disbelief in vampire mythology, 
Grasp the cross and resist the shearing pain of the
Purifying faith based belief in a Christian god. 

Apparently, 
The corruption of the mind, body, and soul of a man – 
When said man is transformed into a soulless 
Abomination that is the undead bloodsucker – 
Fills him with an evil that burns when touched by God. 

Obviously, 
I realize my contradictions as truth! 
I accept the fact that I covet what I cannot have – 
The feel and touch of the rosary with the cross – 
That which I needed for life when I was alive!

Unfortunately, 
I am a dead creature walking pitch black nightmare corridors, 
Who dreams of sitting in a church and renewing my faith in God. 
The reality is – I cannot hold the cross in my hand! 
My faith is too low to fight the evil inside my soulless body!

So, 
I cannot grasp a cross and hold it tight over my heart. 
The image of the cross seared into the flesh of my chest always burns. 
So too, my never to heal burned fingers on my right hand reminds me – 
What vampire has the force of will to withstand the wrath of God? 

ECG


Monday, June 23, 2014

ENTRY 67


(Season 2, Episode 43)





ENTRY 67
"Exerpt from: The Horrorwalker Diary."


Journal Entry: 67 
(Fort Hood, Texas) 


I will always remember the sound of the rain falling hard and loud against the hermetically sealed window on this day 67 of this month in... another long year.

I remember waking up that gray, cool morning to the ache in my muscles and the slight sniffle in my nose. This day was going to be a tough one. I could now feel it in my bones.

I got up as if everything was normal. I wolfed down a mug of very warm coffee and one of the medicinal breakfast bars on the tray. These actions took all of four minutes, before I was again standing on the observer platform with my hands on the glass looking out into the crowd of scientist below my perch.

My captors are rarely late for work. I am their last living test subject and they are trying everything in their power to keep me alive. They've kept my infection from spreading to my brain, but most of my other organs have begun to slow down as the virus slowly tries to turn my blood to dust.

They came to earth 5 years ago. One day they weren't here, then the next day 2,200 of them were here intermingling with the populace of the world. They came in peace by way of what they call "Dimensional Phase Shifting," a way of moving from one plane of existence to another... such as traveling from their planet, with its impossible for the human voice to pronounce, to our planet earth instantaneously.

They told us right from the beginning that humans could not "Phase Shift" because of the difference in our chemical make-up -- you know, the whole carbon based thing. I never understood all that bullshit scientific talk because I'm just a regular guy, but I listened to the news and watched the televisions specials about them. And I was appalled and pissed-off when that reporter… Robert Sanders was his name… released to the public what his research into what the government was doing up there in Seattle. I was mad as hell when we found out that they were experimenting, without the knowledge of the aliens, on humans by trying to build their own "Phase Shifters." And in doing so, had murdered 47 human research subjects. Oh, what a bat shit crazy time that mess was.

And then, people around the world began to quickly become frighteningly sick. People around the world began to literally drop dead within hours of immediately developing severe body wide osteoarthritis-like conditions. Within six hellish weeks, 300 million people died in the United States of America alone. Within six months, 4.5 billion people from around the world were dead! And by now, today, the alien scientist tell me I might be the last man on earth.

FUCK!

Yes, our meddling government decided to play with forces they were warned to not touch. In screwing around with the technology from a world we are not suppose to contact, or see, idiot government politicians murdered the rest of their fellow humans on planet earth. Some of them declared it was the will of GOD telling them to reach out to the alien home world to spread the Christian gospel… instead, they screwed us all by inversely spreading the not allowed viral material from the other side to come into our atmosphere unchecked and unfiltered.

They killed us all, those dirty politicians!


***


The aliens really tried to save us. They brought tons of bizarre equipment over to earth. They did this medical thing with us and they did that medical thing with us... but there really was nothing they could do. The deadly airborne virus, harmless to them, was spread by instantly infected birds. The virus easily jumped from bird to bird, and in no time at all... it was all over. By the time the alien scientists figured out that little caveat, it was too late for humanity.

So here I am... probably the last man on earth.

Some of the alien scientist will come back inside this sealed from the outside research apartment soon. They'll spend the day drawing blood, probing me and making me take all that nasty medicine. They are keeping me alive... but how much longer can I last? This virus is powerful and it wants me dead. Still... what a life I'm living now, right? Waited on hand and foot by jet black skinned, eight foot tall, Praying Mantis-like, oppressively guilty alien friends who constantly apologize to me for the death of over 6 billion human people in just over one year!

Holy goddamn!

At least the birds are still alive. They still carry the virus. I'm told that if I do manage to survive my disease, and if they can clone a viable female for me from the unlimited DNA samples from the dead... to begin the re-population of earth with humans… they will have to destroy every bird on earth before a clean cloned female could step outside into the air.

No more fried chicken! How the hell will I survive without that food vice? Hoo, boy… don't I have great stuff to look forward to?

Well, here they come. I'll be back here later tonight to share more of my thoughts to you, dear journal -- for Entry 68!


Sincerely, Dallas Allen Randolph… test subject and the last man on earth.

DAR

Monday, June 16, 2014

BLEEDING FOR YOU

(Season 2, Episode 44)


From the Horrorwalker World comes this fantastic horror tale... 
First told in the horror journal, 
HORRORWALKER TRAVEL GUIDE.

Here you go, 
Presenting horror from the Northern part of the USA... 
This is what it is like to be -- 
BLEEDING FOR YOU!






BLEEDING FOR YOU
(Rugby, North Dakota)  


(1)

         My name is Albert Martin Paxton. This is my tale of horror and the absurd!

As usual… a few nights ago, after another long day at work a few blocks up the street, I kind of found myself sitting in Harper’s Café, relaxing for a few minutes while I sipped on some of their spectacular hot Oolong Tea and munched on a warm, sweet freshly baked blueberry muffin. I had turned off my cell phone, placed it in my left pants pocket and was simply chilling out by myself and reflecting on the day.

I remember looking at my watch and noticed the time was 8:14 PM. I also remember who was occupying the café with me at the moment.

Jeff and Patricia, the husband and wife owner team, were working behind the counter. Laura, their beautiful twenty-two year old daughter, who is just two years younger than me, was attending the floor. Six of the nine tables were occupied by two people each. The scene was quiet, like an evening in a calm smoke free café should be. And then… it happened.

I snagged my right thumb on a sharp deformity in the wood of the side of my table. It was a freak accident, to be sure. I felt instant pain and was very surprised when blood began to flow from the inside side of my thumb like a stream of maple syrup from the wound. Laura rushed over to help me by bringing me a hand full of wet paper towels and lots of apologies.

I assured her,  and her mom, that all was just fine. The bleeding had not stopped, but the pain had suddenly ceased. That cutting off of the pain was overtly noticeable. I even looked at my thumb because of the sharp cut-off of the feeling.

During the moments that I was paying attention to my wound, Laura had brought out peroxide and band aids from the storage room. She returned to my table for the third time, ready to fix me up. Her soft hands, and her beautiful face, obviously could sooth any savage beast… and surely my injury was safe in her hands. When she was done, and she smiled at me for the 1000th time as she caught me, again, longingly admiring her beauty, she turned to take the medical stuff back to the storage room.

She returned moments later and took my hand in her right hand, examined her perfect placement of the band aid and gauze, and then told me that I now owed her one. “Anything“, I screamed in my mind, as she touched my right cheek before declaring that she had better get back to work.

I told her ‘thanks,’ and just as we were both relaxing about the moment, we both suddenly noticed HER sitting behind the table in the darkened corner by the edge of the bar counter. It was as if she just suddenly appeared from the shadow, right in front of both of us.

I cannot remember how she was dressed. It was almost as she was not really there… but really there, all at the same time. There was something about her eyes that made me… sleepy.

Laura has always called that table ‘the dead zone’ because it served a good purpose when the day was bright and the café was well lit. Patrons loved that corner during the day. But at night time, the table fell into a shadow cast by the bar counter and it was the rare individual, or couple, that sat there in the dark shadow.

Anyway, she was sitting there now and we were still shocked by her presence. Laura approached her and asked what she would like tonight. The woman whispered something that I could not hear and then Laura turned and walked back into the storage room. I then noticed that Jeff and Patricia turned off their devices and followed Laura into the storage room.

And then I was shocked to discover that the café was empty. I looked around and  saw that everyone was gone. How could everyone have left like that without sounding the chime? ‘What in the hell was going on here,’ I thought just before I decided to get up and walk to the storage room to see what was happening with my friends. But before I could move, She stood up and began to approach me. She was only about forty steps away, but to me she might as well have been forty miles away… approaching me in slow motion. She smiled, she raised her right hand in a circular motion and then the world swirled away from me in a dizzying spinning vortex in my mind. I was shut off at the level of my consciousness.



(2)

I have been awake for about two hours. That is the amount time it is taking for me to tell my frightening tale. I needed to just say these words out loud because I’m in the middle of a bloody mess and I don’t know what to do about it.

I found myself sitting on the floor of the storage room. I’ve never been back here and so I never realized just how large this room is. There is food stuff neatly packed away on all four walls and around the room, and still there is plenty of room to walk around. The door to the restroom is over in the far corner.

Laura, Jeff and Patricia are all dead and covered in blood. They have been violently and viciously attacked. Their stiffening pale white bodies have small puncture wounds all over their neck and chest area and one large gaping wound where the front section of their throats have been ripped out. Their bodies are all stacked on top of each other to my left. Surrounding me on the other sides are the rest of the patrons from last night. They have all been attacked in the same manner. Blood is everywhere, and the wounds around the neck and chest are similar to Laura’s.

There are fifteen murdered, desecrated bodies of innocent people laid out in this room. My shock was creeping higher and higher by the moment. “Who could have done this?” I forced myself to say out loud… just as I remembered… HER!

She is the obviously the cause of this madness. She obviously killed my friends.   When I finally stood up and walked into the restroom to have a look at myself in the huge mirror over the sink, I noticed the open window off to the left side of the room. It became obvious to me that others must have snuck into the storage room to help HER commit these vile acts.

And then I looked into the mirror expecting to stare at my own bloody, ripped apart reflection. What did I discover when I stared at the mirror? Nothing! Not my reflection… nothing, except for the image of the carnage on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Holy Fuck!” I exclaimed in a high pitched voice that seemed not to be my own. “What in the hell is happening here?”

I looked down at my hands. There they were. I reached up to my neck with my right hand, swiped the skin and looked at my hand. There it was… sticky, congealed  blood on my hand. I reached up to the right side of my neck and felt around there… to discover the two puncture wounds in the middle of my neck, straight down from my left ear.

This can’t be real!



(3)

I left the scene of the frightful murders of my friends not very long ago. The front door of the café was locked shut… actually jammed shut with the locking mechanism that had been crushed shut. I had to climb out the restroom window, into the nighttime darkened alley, to escape the carnage. I’m back home at my apartment now and I’m sitting in the darkness of my bedroom, cowering and shaking in the corner like a wet frightened animal.

I discovered several hardcore shocks waiting for me here at home that nearly rival the soul smacking horror of discovering my friends all dead.

One shock is the fact that I just discovered that I had been unconscious for three nights. I had been entombed in the dark storage room for three nights with the decaying bodies of my friends. This gets sicker and sicker the more I think about this.

Also, I have just come to terms with what has happened to me and I refuse to believe the absolute obvious -- I have been turned into a… oh my god, I can’t even say the word.

But the scariest shock I have experienced in the last hour is the realization that the sun will rise here in central Texas in about three hours. What in the hell am I going to do when the sun rises? I’m not feeling some kind of ethereal self-preserving instinct overtaking me to guide me to protect myself.

But the biggest shock of them all? The biggest shock… bigger than all of this death and blood and madness? That would be the fact that someone, or something, just started knocking on my bedroom window. Whatever it is, it is repeatedly asking me to “Let us in.”

I live on  the sixth floor of a ten story tall apartment building. None of these apartments have fire escape ladders, or decks, so whatever it is floating outside my window can stay outside my window.

My friends are murdered, I want revenge, there is something floating outside my window that is knocking on it, I am obviously not alive myself… there is some wild shit about to go down in my life within a very short time.

And I don’t have a clue about the outcome, other than the realization that the sharp points of the legs of my wood coffee table will make perfect stakes. Give me a couple of minutes and I think I just might let them in…


 AMP



Monday, June 9, 2014

WE ARE ALL JUST MEALS FOR VAMPIRES


(Season 2, Episode 45)






WE ARE ALL JUST MEALS FOR VAMPIRES
(Montvale, New Jersey)


Hello, my name is Alice Manson. I’m a thirty-two years old white female with shoulder length blond hair and blue eyes. My height is 5’ 9” tall and I weigh 122 pounds. I’m single, physically fit, childless, and work as an executive secretary for a large pharmaceutical company. Or, I should say I worked at this company. I took my much needed two week vacation from my job three days ago. Certain crazy events have transpired in my life within the space of the last six months that have turned my life upside down and shaken my faith in religion and reality. I don’t know if I’ll be returning to my job after this vacation period ends.

I’m writing this missive from my forever youthful, always brightly lit bedroom kept alive and breathing by my mom here in my parent’s house in Montvale. Two days ago, I told my dad that I needed to crash in my old bedroom for a few days to get away from it all. Of course, he told me to come on over and stay as long as I liked. Too bad that mom is on a business trip in Paris, France until Friday and doesn’t even know I’m here. Today is Monday and I’ll call her tomorrow to let her know that I’ll be messing around in her lipstick and perfume, and looking through her closets for her scarves and blouses. That will give her a big smile.

My dad is my best friend. He and I are almost like a much older protective big brother and a little sister who love each other very much. He gives me the guidance and assurance of a loving father. He can then turn around and be there for me when I need someone to hang out with and keep me centered. I’m an active chick and I need my father in my life to keep me on a straight and narrow emotional track.

I’ve been out of my parent’s house for six years now. My apartment is in Paramus, over by the mall. I’ve tried to be independent of my dad, but I can’t. I love him too much to run away from him. Also, he and I share a HUGE secret that we have kept away from my mother for about a year. I believe the secret would incapacitate her if either one of us told her about it. Because of the unbelievable event that happened to me last Friday, the time has come for me to start writing down what I know so that this information won’t make me explode from the inside out.

The secret is in three parts. One -- I have been visited by the mysterious creature thing of fright and nightmare... the HORRORWALKER!

Two -- I have contacted the curator of the HORRORWALKER blog sites for personal information and advice.

Three -- My father was actually in the room with me when the HORRORWALKER suddenly appeared in the center of my apartment living room. Dad was totally unaffected, awake and aware of the proceedings as the HORRORWALKER creature approached me with three large steps and forced me to read my story in its huge tome.

About six months ago, my father was paying me a visit. He was relaxing, sitting on the couch in my apartment. It was 6:55 PM and we were about to watch an episode of our favorite show on television, “Two and a Half Men.”

I was in the kitchenette pouring some grape juice for us to drink. I had my back to my dad and was a little startled when I heard a loud gasp come from my dad. I turned to see what he was doing… and there it was, standing in the space between my father and me. It was so large and dark that I could not see my dad. That is all I remember from that moment.

My dad told me that he jumped off of the couch and ran around to the left side of the creature. He joked afterward that he had no clue as to what he was going to do about what he was witnessing, but he still needed to rescue me, if need be. What he saw was me standing there immobile and unharmed, holding that huge book in my right hand with my left arm dangling loose to my left side. I was transfixed at what I was looking at on the pages of the book, while the pages turned themselves. He tells me he could not believe what he was looking at. And, he decided that he had better take a step back and let the process take place without any interference from him. He simply did not want to find out what would happen if this eight foot tall creature that looked like death alive decided to turn its attention to him.

I don’t blame him for stepping back!

Dad told me that the process took about ten minutes of real time. I thought mere seconds had passed. When I finished the story that the creature forced me to read, dad told me that the book closed itself, the creature gently took the book from my still immobile hand  and then the HORRORWALKER pointed to an object... one of my personal items... resting on my kitchen counter... motioning for my dad to place said object into my still extended hand. Then it stepped back a step and simply vanished. Dad says it was there, and then suddenly it was gone! No smoke, no sound and no evidence that it had ever been there… except for the object in my hand.

I suddenly came back to reality. I could move my body and I could feel the coolness of the object in my hand. I felt perfectly fine, but I knew I was changed forever. And my mind was filled with the etched on my brain, line by line, story I had just been forced to read.

Dad led me across the room... then we sat back down on the couch and talked for hours about what we had just experienced. We talked so long that mom, who was at home at that time, called to ask if dad was coming home anytime soon.

We decided that this would be our secret. We would work through this issue on our own and in time figure out what it all meant. In the meantime, life should go on and this would be a fantastic memory to discuss in private times.

I never told my dad the contents of my HORRORWALKER story. The story has a name and that name is MEALS FOR VAMPIRES! The name of the protagonist of the story is Alice Manson. Yea… that’s my goddamn name. I’ve held onto this scary information for six months. But, I cannot keep this information inside of me any longer. Tomorrow, I will talk to dad about this information and we’ll have to figure out some kind of plan.

I know where the house, where I confront the enemy in my tale, is located. I know that an ancient serial killer of a vampire lives there. I know that I have met him before in a late night passing in a convenience store. I know that he and I will eventually, as in very soon, meet again and have a vicious showdown. And I know that we damage each other greatly and one of us dies a horrible death! This encounter in inevitable! It is written in the HORRORWALKER tome!

I had already put in for my vacation over a month ago before. Friday was the beginning of my two weeks off. I had worked late that day to finish the small amount of paperwork on my desk. Sam, Robin and Pam had all long gone leaving me alone as the last staff member out of the building. I waved goodbye to the cleaning ladies and exited the office at 7:48 PM… and later stopped by the 7-11 at 8:03 PM to buy a liter of diet coke. As I walked through the door to the store a tall, darkness shrouded man brushed past me leaving on his way out. His cloak brushed my hand and suddenly every nerve in my body exploded like I had just been electrocuted. Right there, right then, right now I knew that the enemy in my HORRORWALKER story had just passed me... even though I had not met the HORRORWALKER yet. Something inside me screamed. “Oh, my God!” And I knew something profound and scary just changed in my life.

Obviously, good for me that he didn’t pay any attention to me. But, at that moment in time, something overcame me and I had to make a quick decision about where these next few seconds of my life was going to take me. The answer was back to my car! And, as crazy as it was at the time, I decided that I would follow this person.

I followed him through several very familiar neighborhoods, burning about ten minutes of time as I followed him to… his home! And... I knew this place, even thought I had never been there before. The elementary school I attended as a child was two blocks up the street. The middle school I attended as an older child was ten blocks away and the high school I graduated from is about a half mile away from here.

I repeated the words, “My god,” again as my mind raced to near insanity as I began to imagine that this man was a vampire. I truly felt like I was going crazy as I thought the crazy thought... I realized that he lives right in the middle of a smorgasbord of human food! And, I suddenly remembered, over the decades there have been several cases of people gone missing in the area. Could it be that this vampire is the culprit?

But then I grabbed back my sanity and convinced my mind that I was going crazy. Vampires are not real and this man will call the police on me if he figures out that I am stalking him. And so, I left to go home and force myself to stop the madness.

I drove back to my apartment in total silence. And later on I called dad to let him know I needed to come home to chill.

But now, our inevitable meeting is beginning to become even more inevitable.

Every night, since my HORRORWALKER encounter, I dream of what I read in my HORRORWALKER story. There is a particular passage that always replays inside my dream. I just know that this passage is a warning that is preparing me for my final showdown with this vile HORRORWALKER WORLD vampire. The passage reads:

“His eyes glowed red as he gripped me by my shoulders with his vice grip hands. He effortlessly pushed me down into the wooden chair. I was horrified as I stared at the plate on the table with the single slice of bread on it. Then I felt him push my head to position my neck over the plate. He flicked the right side of my neck with the talon on his right index finger and moaned in pleasure as he watched my blood drop, drip by drip, onto the plate. Obviously, the end of my life was near. I was about to be a perverted, sick meal for this vampire! Goddamn it… I had to find some way to reach into my pants pocket to grab ahold of my only weapon, my…”

And then I awake from the dream. The weapon in my hand is the object given to me by the will of the HORRORWALKER. And then shit happens!

Dad and I will talk tomorrow. What has to happen between me and this killer has to go down very soon. I realize that fate has already laid out the roadwork for our showdown. I am on that road and I cannot stop the motion toward these actions, even if I wanted to.

I am sending this missive to the HORRORWALKER blog curator. I am requesting him to publish this account of my encounters. By the time this story sees publication, I will have already confronted my enemy. If I actually survive this encounter, I will tell all of you the results soon enough… in the form of my own set of horror missives... MEALS FOR VAMPIRES. And maybe, just maybe, I will describe exactly what the HORRORWALKER made my father to hand to me as a weapon… if it actually works as a weapon!

I’m not describing what it is until AFTER our encounter.

Pray for my soul... I’m just a human girl going against a real undead monster!

APM