Tag Archives: dark

Cracks and Crevasses – A short little horror story


 

cracky

 

 

Her leaving was quite sudden.  Her warmth will be missed,  but  my love that I had known for these many years  turned out to be simply a bitch.

Now I sit in this house we once shared…its a big bold hold of a house, with cracks in the walls and crevices in the floor boards that lead to the in between spaces and nowhere.

I would have fixed them all, all those broken pieces left unattended over the years, but now what’s the use.  There really is no call to repair something that only brought me to despair.

Never good enough.  “A hole in the wall, ” was my only gift to her,  she had ever said.

Now gone.

Then they began to come.

Out of all the those holes and cracks they seeped.

The Monsters liked to crawl  from where they laid hidden and nip at me when I turned away.  They are an annoyance, their pestering, their little pains. I have gotten scratched on many a occasion,  a bite mark or two when ever deep asleep or not quite quick enough on my feet at night.

I felt them grinning there in the dark.  I couldn’t  see them in the cold dead spaces of the room as they hid but I knew there was  an upturned lip or a crinkling of the eyes. I felt them there drinking me in.

I tried not to think about  them as I drove to work,  or as I sat at my desk, or went to the bathroom or ate my lunch in the  breakroom. Sometimes, I even thought one or two had hidden in the trunk of my car and came to work with me.  For I felt their presence always….

Its was oppressive.

It hadn’t  always been like this. Once I had been free. No monster nipped, scratched or bit.  For they didn’t exist in my home.  Back then, there were no shadows to hide them. No cold spaces to give them comfort.

I am not sure how they found me. For I sure as hell didn’t let them in. I never asked them to come into my home.  I hate them. All of them and they hate me.

There are so many,   skinny ones, fat ones, ugly ones,  ugly skinny ones, ugly fat ones,  foul smelly ones, red eyed, green eyed, black eyed, no-eyed even. So, so many.

I keep them back.  Even though there are many, they are not very brave, not at all. They may grin from the dark but they cower. They are afraid of me in some  small way.  I have yet to figure out why.

I know they don’t like my boot when I give one or two of them a good kick.  Oh no, they don’t like the boot, not at all. Then I grin back at them and I sense them cowering more.

They are weak little Monsters and I have my big black steel toed boots to keep them at bay. I wear them all the time even in bed. Not in the shower though. That would be silly. I lock the bathroom door tight, remove my boots in a flourish, still laced but loose, enough to slip back on in a flash.

Naked, I jump in the shower, scrub scrub scrub, then out in a moment between a heartbeat  of their indecision to possibly break down the door.  I scramble for my towel, dry off and put on my clothes for the next day, slip into my boots and crawl into bed.

They are not as clever as me. Not by far you see.

Until I wake up and find my legs secured, and tied tightly  to the bed .

Hmmm…my arms won’t move… they seem to be tied at my sides as well. I am all snug, snug, snug

They all are there, perched on my footboard.  Waiting for me to wake up this whole time. They just stare at me, colored eyes shining and no eyes and lifeless and all.

Why do they wait?

Why don’t they  rent, why don’t they tear and rip and claw?

A taloned appendage slips off my  boots and with a clunk they both hit the bedroom floor.

Then the grins began. This time I can see them.  Some toothless, or black and decayed as death,

some mouths with lolling tongues licking lips which drip, milk white saliva which issue a delicate hiss

upon my sheets.

They creep as one …like a low rolling wave they come. Up my body, over my feet, calves and knees…blood seeps, staining the white bed red.

Thighs are on fire as they continue to eat and eat…

All I can do is look on…pain, oh the overwhelming pain, drowns me as the wave of teeth and claws and malice munches me, a wide awake nightmare…of my Monsters finally taking their due.

Darkness falls complete as my eyes are plucked and eaten…how is it that I still live?

My mad mind is all that remains intact.

Until they reach my brains for their final snack.

My mind settles….then drifts…the pain is gone and  I meander in a pool of blood red mist…

Images come,  blurred and dim,  a focus , a purpose coalesces ….

A man sleeps before me angry and mean, fear filled and hopeless as I sit looking through a lit crack into his room and give him a little grin.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Certain Parts – A poem


Shadow

 

I will never know certain parts of life …but only see them in silhouette and shadow….or as a dim chalk line on a pavement as I walk by….

Mysteries which flit

Images at the edge.

Questions never answered.

Isn’t that glorious.

 

by Philip Wardlow

 

 

The Devil is Dealt – A poem


TheDevil

The Devil is Dealt –

So, I say.

Let the Devil show his face

I know him well but it doesn’t

mean we are friends.

He doesn’t watch my house when

I am on vacation, or babysit

my kids.

Sure, we share a drink and a laugh

about that crazy neighbor down

the street.

But he’s not my buddy.

He can be a little needy at times

ya know.

Always in my face as I go to get

the mail and wanting to talk,

looking at me over the fence,

wanting to borrow my weed-wacker

and never returning it.

But I tolerate him,

I guess I feel sorry for him.

He has no family to speak of, I see no friends

come to visit.

He just sits on the porch and mumbles

to himself late at night

smoking that damn cigar.

I guess I see a little myself in him

but it’s time to cut him

off.

Else he’ll just keep coming

around more often.

by Philip Wardlow 2014

The Well – short story Prompt


I follow a fellow writer named MC Hunton over at her blog. She recently started challenging herself and fellow followers to do a writing piece based on a certain writing prompt every Monday . I finally got off my lazy butt and did one like I promised her I would.  The writing  prompt this week was entitled  Monday Muse: Sound.  You basically have to write anything having to do with a noise or silence that won’t go away.  I believe the only rule was that you had to write for thirty minutes straight and just flow with it…..

So here it goes… the story is NOT done but I think I made  a pretty good start.  I will definitely try and finish it up soon I hope. Let me know what you think.

Well1

The Well

by Philip Wardlow

Momma would send me every morning to go fetch the water from the well that sat behind our house some fifty yards back near where the woods started. I hated that chore more than anything something awful.

I walked sleepily to the open back porch outside in my pajamas wearing just my slippers. The sun was still trying to sneak its head over the hill as the stars were still wide awake and dancing in a dark blue shy sky. This morning was especially  chilly when I grabbed the bucket at the back door. I saw every breath I took float away like I was taking a smoke like my daddy used to do.

I stood there in the doorway staring out at the backyard all the way back to where the well was. I could tell it was just waiting for me like it always does. To me it looked a like a squat little frog made of wood and brick, staring at me. Even two of the bricks which made up the wall of it were placed just so and colored just so different from all the rest, that it made ‘em look like eyes staring back at me in the dim light of the morning night. I imagined a big tongue rolling out of the hole of the well just waiting to slurp me up all green, slimy and wet.

This morning there was a fog rolling all along the ground from account of the cold. It wasn’t too thick. Pieces of it slunk around the yard moving left to right out of the corn field to cross over and go past the chicken coop on the far side and continue on like it needed some place to be. I noticed that none of the fog got too close to the well. It seemed to want to have nothing to with it as it meandered across the yard.

I shivered and wondered if I would hear it again. I  heard the sound all the time.  Dear lord, I hope I don’t hear it again, I said in a silent prayer inside my head.

“Josephine, get your butt going with that water! It ain’t gonna get itself,” I heard my momma yell at me from inside the house.

“Yes, momma.”

I mustered my courage and walked across the dark yard toward the well with the water bucket wrapped in my arms tight to my chest.

The chicken coop was quiet as I passed by, the hens and Old mister Rudy the cranky old rooster hadn’t yet caught on to the fact of that it was a new day on hand just yet. They didn’t make a peep as I walked on by ‘em to the well.

The blue pines rose up behind the well and towered above, swaying in the breeze. My own  shadow  was swallowed by theirs as I approached the well. It was always darkest in this part of the yard as the sun was still buried deep behind ‘em.

I sat the bucket on the edge of the well and secured the hook to the rope and sent it over the edge and started to slowly lower it down.

I looked out at the thick clump of dark trees behind the well. Anything could be in there. I began to imagine that something would wait for me on my walk to the house when my arms were heavy with a bucket full of water and take me from behind and drag me into the woods and my momma would never see me again. I thought a silly thought then. My teacher calling my name at roll call.

Josephine Stevens – she would call out twice to the classroom but I wouldn’t answer her. Because I just simply wouldn’t be anymore.

I found myself cranking the line to lower the bucket even faster….

Then I heard it….the noise.

….to be Continued…….:)

I seek Elpis – A Poem


Kiersten Eve Eagan
Pandora’s Jar (yes a Jar…the Greek word “Pithos” was mistranslated to “Box” instead of the word “Jar” and it just stuck

I Seek Elpis –

 

The Spirit of Hope,  Elpis, flew,

last out of that Jar which Pandora had opened,

yet it flew.

Always playing catch up to the despair and destruction

the foul ones had left in their wake,

yet it came.

On gossamer wings of gold

to lit upon the fragile souls

earthly bound.

Diseased,  destitute, or almost dead,

Bereaved, broken, or branded.

It found them in the highest of heights

to the darkest holes or pitted caves.

Yet it found them.

Know that the foul ones who sap the will  are many.

Know that the foul ones who drive down the heart be strong.

Yet,  Elpis’ limits are limitless

when called to.

You simply have to seek it and

it will be appear.

 

by Philip Wardlow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Triad of Horror in Haikus – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #24,25,26


PasstheTorch
Blade of souls passes,
from old to young hands gladly
to cut future fates.
Blackcat
A friend to shadows.
Tracks of misfortune follow
feline on the prowl.
CreepyImage
I see you creeping,
Big eyes, sharp teeth, wicked smile
Waiting for a hug

Take Me – 30 Day Halloween Challenge – Poem #14


apanese_horror_by_asphynxia

Take Me –

If I should die before I wake, I pray thee  Lord my soul to take…

Let me wander free of me,

Let me wander far of field

of the flies and maggots

which fester upon

my  rotting flesh.

My mind is not my own

as I walk this earth I once

called home.

Take me, for I do wish to remain

a husk of hunger

never knowing peace.

Take me so I may

finally fall  asleep.

by Philip Wardlow

Killer Pumpkins – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #13 – (but I cheated :)


Killer Pumpkinskiller-pumpkinWeapons

Ba dump…ba dump…ba ba dump.

Bump…

Bump…

They roll.

They stroll

down the streets;

orange and angry.

Why do they roll?

Why are they not in bed,

with green leaves as blankets

To cover their orange ripply heads.

I suppose they’re pissed off

for being left behind

in the patch.

What the fuck was wrong

with them, they ask.

It’s Halloween and they’ve

waited long enough.

Knives in hand with

grins carved in,

ready to show

the little tricker-treat bastards

a real killer

pumpkin.

So they roll

and they stroll

down the street.

Ba dump.KillerPumpkin

Triad of Horror Haikus – for the 30 day Poem Challenge We’ll call them Poem#11, and 12 :)


ShadowPeople
The Dark needs my Soul
For it is feeding time now,
it’s always hungry.
ScaryDoll
I think it sees you,
I am sorry that is so
He kills very slow.
swing
Think driven by the wind?
A lonely swing in the dark.
When alive, her friend.

Outside your Window – 30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge Poem#9


OutsideDoor

Outside your Window –

Have you ever had evil imaginings,

awake or dreaming,
and confused the two?

A  palpable scene,

with the texture of  black  silk covering

from head to toe,

wrapping around your neck as your breathing slowed?

The dark outside solidified against the glass

as something settled it’s gaze.

A pinprick of pressure to the skin at

the nape of the neck.

It’s waiting to be let in.

Your hand rises to the latch, as you wonder

at  the horror that seeks you and the  curiosity in

which you seek your own demise.

Perhaps this will be the night

you finally die.

by Philip Wardlow