The Woods

Huge shout out to Misha Burnett for being the first to mention some things about my last story I was hoping someone would mention. He made my day! 🙂

Here is a new story, not super original, but still more words written.


A cold breeze snaked across the ground, brown leafs danced in the stream of air catching on twisted roots of the surrounding trees. A group of teenagers huddled around a campfire. Several had marshmallows on sticks placed in the fire. They watched the white treats puff up from the heat. One member of the group began speaking.

“Hey, how about we tell scary stories? Have you heard about the Missouri Monster?”

The blond haired girl, wrapped in scarves and blankets let out a loud boo. The dark wavy haired girl sitting next to her exclaimed, “What Lisa said. Boo! That’s such a dumb legend.”

A tall lanky boy sitting across the fire on simple log stump said, “Yeah, it’s not even scary.”

Rachel leaned forward and rubbed her hands together over the fire and said, “I dunno. Maybe we should let James finish his story. He is a pretty good teller of tales. Maybe he made it scary?”

Lisa looked over at Rachel, with a confused expression, “Who is James?”
Rachel scrunched up her face, now she was confused. “What do you mean who is James? He is sitting right there next to Rob.”

Tommi, the dark wavy haired girl, said, “Rachel, you’re kind of scaring me, there is no one sitting next to Rob.”

Rachel rubbed her temple trying to massage the massive pain splitting her skull. She looked over at James who looked very annoyed. His hands were placed on top of his auburn curly hair. His green eyes stared back at her. He spoke up, “Okay, guys this isn’t funny. You guys see me, right? I am right here.”

Lisa spoke again, “Rachel, would you stop trying to get attention. This isn’t funny. I am so tired of how you just make things up for a laugh.”

Rachel let out a small yelp. The pain spread across her skull down to the back of her neck. Her vision started to blur but she managed to make out James standing up, a metal hot dog roaster in his hands. His knuckles turning right. She screamed as James tried to run the roaster through Rob but the metal was flimsy and bent.

“How about that dumb ass. See how real I am?” James shouted.

Lisa screamed, “Why the hell would you do that? Are you insane?”

Rachel watched as James turned to Lisa, his face red, “I am tired of being invisible, with all of you clowns pretending I don’t exist. Well I exist, I am visible!” James picked up the hatchet next to the kindling by the fireplace. He swung, blood splattering across his face as screams surrounded him. “I exist.”

#

Rachel opened her eyes. She was standing next to the smoldering embers of the dying fire, the bloodied corpses of her friends littered the ground. She tried to scream but it came out as a pathetic whimper. Her hand, she was holding something. She looked down, in her clenched fist was a hatchet. Blood dripping from the blade onto the ground. She crumbled to the ground on her knees letting out a sob. She felt a hand placed on her shoulder and a faint voice say, “I exist.”


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The Closet

I am going to write a few fiction stories on here. They won’t be good but at least I am writing something. Maybe one day I’ll git gud at this writing thang.


John woke to his cellphone buzzing on the nightstand. The figure next to him twisted under the covers as he looked at his phone and groaned. He smashed the answer button on the screen and in a gruff voice said, “Yes?”

The voice on the other end of the line spoke for what felt like several minutes before he spoke again, “It’s just your imagination. Our house is not haunted. No ghosts, werewolves or zombies.” The other voice continued again for another length of time. John tapped the nightstand with his knuckles and then interjected, “No, I told you I have to work all night. You know what will happen if I don’t get this project done.” John brushed his hair back with his hand and gave a deep sigh as the voice interrupted him. He spoke into the phone, “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He ended the call and the covers next to him shuffled around as his companion sat up. Her hands started massaging his shoulders and she asked, “Your wife?”

“Yes. This move out to the country side was a giant mistake. Her sanity has leaped off a cliff.”

“It sounds like it — from what you told me. Hanging garlic to keep out the vampires, laying out meat to scare off the poltergeists, and placing those witch symbols around the yard. It sounds nuts.”

“Ugh the meat, it just sat there for days rotting. The house smelled horrible. I made her toss it out. I think she bought more recently too. She is scared to go anywhere at night and every creak she hears sends her into hysterics.”

The woman said, “You should leave her.”

“You know why I can’t.” He responded.

She stopped her massage and said, “You’d better go. Don’t want to be late.”

He turned and gripped her hands, “Hey now, don’t be like that. It won’t be long before I can finally leave her. Just a few more months.”

“I hate all this sneaking around, I want our relationship to be open. I want my friends to meet you.”

He smiled and kissed her before saying, “You are the only woman for me. Be patient.”

#

John was walking up to his front door when it burst open and the frail figure of his wife entangled him. “Oh John, I am so glad you here.”

John remained silent and gave his wife a firm embrace. They separated and he said, “Okay, where is the ghost tonight?”

Her face scrunched up in an attempt to hold back her tears. “John, it is terrible. I have never been so scared. Noises coming from all over the house. From the basement to the attic.”

“I’m here now. Let’s go scare this ghost back into submission.” He held her hand and led her back into the house.

The two started in the basement, where he went around opening doors to prove to his wife no monsters lurked behind. They made their way up to their bedroom. He approached the bathroom door and his wife’s grip tightened. He shook his head and ripped open the door. The clean tile, empty tub and simple vanity was the only thing visible.

“That’s just about every room in the house. See? No ghosts, ghouls or monsters. How about we get some sleep.”

She nodded her consent and the two prepared for sleep.

#

The two figures under the comforter slept in peace in the dark room. A cry wafted through the air. The sound of something in pain. John’s eyes opened at the noise. He looked over at his wife, she was still asleep. She looked peaceful and the faint light drifting through the window brought out her beauty. There was the woman he had married. John waited a few minutes to hear if the noise returned but there was only silence. He closed his eyes when the same haunting cry pierced the night.

John jumped out of bed. This time, the sound, it was coming from the closet. He hadn’t checked there. He approached the closet with caution. Each step brought him closer. Was that rustling he heard from behind the closet door?

A voice broke his concentration. It was his wife, she was near the bedroom door, her eyes large with fright. “John, don’t. Don’t open that door. Let’s leave.”

“It’s okay. It’s probably just the wind but I had better check.” John started toward his goal again.

His wife pleaded, “Please, John. Let’s leave this house.”

“Relax, I got this.”

He gripped the doorknob to the closet and turned the knob. He heard the bedroom door slam. He threw the door open. A giant howl pierced his ears as a dark form pounced on him slamming him to the floor. He screamed as long claws twisted into his flesh. His screams stopped as his throat was ripped apart from sharp teeth.

#

Detective Arnold looked at the grisly scene in the bedroom as the officer next to him was stating through the known facts, “We can’t confirm for sure until the autopsy but the markings on the body have the signature of a mountain lion attack. Officer Wendell found there was hole in the side of the house that led to a crawlspace between the walls that led to the back of the closet.”

Detective Arnold spoke, “Well ain’t this the darndest thing. A mountain lion attack. The wife?”

“She is safe. Really shook up but she fled the house thinking it was haunted. Saved her life, most likely. Made it to her neighbor’s house down the street. They were who contacted us.”

“Okay, well this seems pretty open and shut. Get animal control out looking for the animal. I’ll go speak with the wife, that poor woman.” Detective Arnold shook his head and walked down the hall. He certainly never expected his day to turn out like this.


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Flashbacks

In my extensive time being a consumer of entertainment I need to get this off my chest. I hate strongly dislike flashbacks. This also includes prologues and prequels. 99% of the time these narrative devices are pointless.

Why?

They are mostly exposition dumps of important story details that often have already been explained to the audience in a better way. I find they often break the pacing of a story and go on longer than needed. It’s annoying.

However, sometimes its a bit alright. I recently watched a movie called Begin Again which used a combination of flashbacks and different perspectives. A few characters start out in a bar and the story jumps back for each character showing how they all ended up in the bar. We get to see each character’s interpretation of the events happening in the bar which was very well executed. The movie goes on to include a few other flashbacks and it all worked out quite well.

Here is my rule of thumb when to have a flashback, prologue, or prequel:

  1. Don’t.

I kid! Well, a little. Most people can’t get it right when they write flashbacks and the one’s who think they can probably can’t.

I almost feel like one of the basic advice given to new writers of show don’t tell is a bit bogus. It really should be: show what is important — tell what isn’t and chances are what you feel is important probably isn’t.

i hate u, i love u — i hate that i love u

I think Spotify might truly understand me. I have been listening to music off and on the last few weeks at work through Spotify and this evening the first channel I saw when I loaded the app was ‘Broken Heart’. It is a bit scary that through a few searches all that maths can figure me out.

Ran across a song that sparked the title for this post by gnash. Oddly, I didn’t care much for his part but Olivia O’Brien, she alright.

Last night I cried

I have been watching Halt and Catch Fire on Netflix the past couple of weeks. Last night in the episode I was watching something happened that was very unexpected. I cried.

This TV show has the most real characters I have ever seen. They are beautiful people full of flaws and dreams.

Have you watched this show? What did you think?

I am a failure

Cleaned out the blog. Deleted all my old posts, images and pages. Was anything of value lost? Not really. When it comes down to it, the mad ramblings of some lonely person on the internet don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.