Monthly Archives: October 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Gus

Gus

Muttering to himself as he always does, ole Gus shuffled to the basement door, pulled it open, and carefully descended the barely lit stairs. Once in the subterranean cavern – as he liked to imagine it – he began searching the dusty shelves for boxes marked ‘Halloween’ in Ester’s neat, tidy handwriting. God rest her soul. Given what a pain in the ass his wife had been in life, he’d never thought he would miss her nagging so much now that she was gone. Oh well, you have to go on, can’t dwell on the past. That’s the way he’d always lived his life, no reason to go changing now. If he could just get the damned Priest from their church to stop coming by, he could finally watch his game shows in peace.  To get a little extra change on the plate each weekend, that old coot would do just about anything. Gus couldn’t see any other reason why the man would keep coming by the house to console him; always bringing casseroles, and baked this, or homemade that from strange women Gus had never even met. Yup, it had to be that Sunday Salvation Savings account he kept making deposits into. No other reason for it. She’d been dead for, Christ – what was it, six or seven weeks by now. Treating him like a lost mute-child found wandering the streets was getting to be a bit much! These people just didn’t know how to keep to themselves and stop meddling in his affairs. But at least he was eating well. Ester, God rest her soul, was a fair looking woman with many fine qualities, but cooking wasn’t one of them. Nope. She must have been looking the other way when that train went whistling by. Oh well, that book was closed, no point in flipping through the pages.

Rooting around the musty shelves in the dim light, Gus finally came across what looked like the right boxes. ‘Course, they were behind the ‘X-Mass’ boxes; now he’d have to move those first. Speaking of ‘X-Mass’, that was something he’d always wondered… Why spell it with two S’s on the end? Christmas was spelt with one S, and he couldn’t see the Arch Diocese endorsing X-Priests, like X-Men, so X-Masses had to be out of the question. Now that would be a service he wouldn’t mind paying to attend – hell, they could charge admission. Those money grubbing, wafer toting, alcohol peddling Men of the Cloth zipping around with special powers… that would be a show! What, no change for the plate? Father Laser Eye, incinerate that cheap son-of-a-bitch who came to service empty handed. Zap! Ha! Ahhh, well, it would probably be more like Father Lazy Eye with those clowns, anyway. Speaking of clowns, if he didn’t stop imagining The Flying Priest-capades in his head, he’d never get the lawn set up for tomorrow night. And Ester, God rest her soul, wouldn’t have that at her home. Nope. Better get back to gettin’ to it.

Finally, after clearing the ‘X-Mass’ boxes out of the way, and pulling down the Halloween decorations that had amassed over the years (get it, A-Massed?) – ha! He really should have been in show biz; his talents were wasted in the mill all those years… Anyway, after moving the boxes around and getting the right ones out, he’d need to get a move on it if he was finally going to get back at those little shits for the years of fucking with his Ester’s, God rest her soul, lawn.

A few hours later, he’d managed to drag all the boxes and loose pieces of seasonal ornamentation up from the basement and out onto the front porch. Looking around at the leaves cluttering the lawn, Gus figured there was no sense in raking them, they only added to the ambiance of the festival. Plus his back was way too sore for that kind of manual labor, especially considering what was still to come. Yup. Ester, God rest her soul, was going to be proud of his efforts this year; and whether she was too kind-hearted or lady-like to admit it, she’d enjoy the vengeance he had planned for those crap-faced teenagers. Ha! Well, time to break out the cob-webbing, and get the decorating over with.

Gus worked long into the night, waving to passers-by as they called out a hello, taking a break only to sit and eat the latest dish of whatever you call that stuff the Priest brought by. To any and all watching, it seemed the kindly old widower was going about making his home as inviting as he could for the pip-squeaks who would come mooching for candy tomorrow night. Sometime around 10:30 pm, he placed the final prop in its honored and very conspicuous place. It was the most realistic, most expensive severed head he and Ester, God rest her soul, had collected. It was really a bit too pricey for them, but from the moment she saw it, she simply wouldn’t leave the store without it. He’d spent the last several years sitting up awake on All Hallow’s Eve just to protect that one prop from the neighborhood vandals. They’re just kids having fun, Ester, God rest her soul, would always say. Kids, my ass, he always thought. Lighting his last cigarette before heading inside to wash up and sleep for a few hours, Gus wondered just how much fun they’d be having this year. After a few drags, he flicked the butt onto his neighbor’s lawn, picked up the prized latex head, and trudged inside to catch a little shut-eye.

At 2:00 am, his alarm clock sounded. After splashing cold water on his face and shaking off the sandman, Gus got down to the real business of this year’s decorating.  Collecting his shovel and pickaxe from the shed out back, he shambled his way around to the front lawn. He might be an old geezer, but years of working in the mill hardened him into something much different than most people thought. He was a smart man, one who knew how to foster good will and empathy, but one who also knew when it was time to use his strengths to his advantage. Making his way to the spot where the prized head would sit later that evening, he tossed down the shovel and began breaking up the dirt on his front lawn. By 4:30 am, he had a man sized vertical hole dug in just the right spot. He’d wheeled all the loose dirt – minus a few shovelfuls that he used to camouflage the 3ft by 2ft board masking the opening he’d just created – to the back and blended it into his freshly turned garden soil so it wouldn’t look suspicious.  Returning to the front once more, he gathered and scattered handfuls of leaves around to hide his handiwork.  Back inside, he made his way to the shower, cleaned himself up, then cooked a hearty breakfast of poached eggs, instant grits, bacon, maple sausage links, and six slices of toast. Just like Ester, God rest her soul, used to make… well, maybe a little better, but don’t tell her that.

Sitting out on his front porch that afternoon and evening, Gus dutifully rewarded all the little children with their hands held out begging for candy. As the night wore on, he was sure to keep an eye on that ghoulish head, and all the little bastards who had their eye on it, too. He knew that one of them would come back and make a play for it well after everyone was asleep. With all the wee ones home by 9:00 pm, it was just a matter of waiting the right amount of time. By 11:30 pm, Gus had been alone on his porch for an hour and a half without seeing another soul. He figured now was as good a time as any. Giggling to himself and saying a silent prayer that Ester, God rest her soul, was watching, he began his own Halloween fun! Tucking the latex head inside the house, he slid the board covering the hole out of the way and tossed it under the porch, hiding the evidence of his deceit among the other debris stored there. Sitting down on the lawn, Gus dangled his legs over the opening for just a moment before he shimmied his way into the ground. Having left one arm free, he scooped the loose dirt and leaves that had concealed the board onto his broad shoulders, then worked his arm into the dirt as well. Buried up to his neck, Gus stood in the tight confines of the vertical grave he’d dug earlier and waited. It didn’t take long.

Judging it to be just past 12:30 am, he heard a rustling sound, and the drunken whispers of the aforementioned idiots approaching. Holding dead still, eyes closed, he waited and listened.

“Damn man, it looks so real!”

“Of course it looks real, dick-head, that’s why its such a great grab for this year’s scavenger hunt. Plus that pain-in-the-ass isn’t sitting on the porch guarding it like he usually is.”

“Show some respect, man. The dude just lost his wife. My dad comes by here with food and shit from the church cronies like every night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does it out of respect. He’s just hoping the old fuck leaves his money to the parish.”

“Whatever, asshole. Just grab it so we can get the hell out of here before someone sees us.”

The sound of footsteps grew closer as the leaves crunched in his ears. Gus felt the warmth of the little bastard’s hands nearly touching him.

“You sure the coast is clear?”

“Yeah, man. Just hurry the fuck up and grab it!”

Sensing the impending hands closing around his head, Gus’s eyes shot open as quickly as his jaw. He’d taken the time to file his teeth to razor sharp points while he’d waited inside. In one fluid motion, he turned and snapped his mouth closed on the arm of the fuck-wad trying to steal his head.  His teeth sliced clean through fabric and muscles, and as soon as the kid yanked backward, his forearm detached at the elbow. They all started to scream like the little piss-ants they were. Blood was spurting everywhere, making Gus’s head really look like the prop. As the teens ran screaming for their lives, Gus spit the arm out towards the bushes. Cackling with maniacal laughter, shreds of fabric and gristle still clinging to his teeth, Gus shouted, “See Ester, God rest your soul, that’s the perfect prop to finish off our display!”

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!


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Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Blink

Blink

I cower in the corner trying not to hear the scuttling sounds from the attic. The scratching of tiny claws, the beating of miniscule feet, the giggling of inhuman laughter – it’s maddening! I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Frozen in terror, I’m not sure I have the will to force my body to move. I shift slightly as my left calf begins to cramp. Silence – the noises from above have stopped. Did they hear me? I should run; this may be my only chance!

Gathering my wit’s about me, I lean forward placing one hand on the floor in front of me. Still nothing from above. Bolder now, I place the other hand on the floor and shift my weight. The damn wood betrays me as the old boards squeal. I freeze in mid crouch listening for signs of movement from above.  All remains quiet.

My crawl from the corner is agonizingly slow. What in reality takes only a few seconds, feels like an eternity to my pounding heart. I’ve made it to the center of the room. Pausing for a moment, I glance up toward the hatch that separates the attic from the bedroom.

My lungs sucking for breath, my body shaking uncontrollably – I’m ashamed to admit I wet myself. The corner of the hatch is ajar; two sets of blinking eyes stare down at me in silence. Then a fifth eye blinks open, quickly followed by its accompanying sixth. As I watch, a multitude of tiny gleaming orbs struggle to see through the slight gap. I stare in horror as the hatch lifts further to allow more of the beings a view of what’s below.

The hatch now completely open, the small creatures stare at me from every available space. I begin to wonder if they are harmful or not. One of them speaks, I cannot discern if it is meant for me, so I continue to look upward mutely.  A muffled reply sounds from farther back in the open space above. The first, turning its head, speaks again. This seems to excite those gathered around the hatch. They began to fidget; bouncing and bumping into one another. The one that was speaking turns and looks down at me. This time it makes no pretense of hiding its wickedly-long, slender teeth – teeth clearly intended to rip meat from bone.

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Love

Love

“Please,” I shrieked, “please stop!” but he kept hitting me. It began with a slap across the mouth for a simple comment. He backhanded me when I mentioned the bathroom sink was beginning to clog. He took it as an insult, told me I didn’t respect him and the hard work he put into keeping this dump livable. I could see it in his eyes, as soon as my lip began to trickle, the blood excited him. Trying to diffuse the situation, I told him it wasn’t his fault, and I would make sure a plumber took a look at it right away.

He called me a stupid cunt. I tried to run, but he fisted my hair and dragged me across the bed. Yanking my head backward painfully, he screamed at me to open my eyes and look at him. I didn’t want to; I knew what he would see.

As soon as he saw the fear in my eyes, a grin spread across his face, his breathing began to quicken. He jerked his arm viciously, snapping my neck even further. Then the first punch fell; it crushed my nose and I began to gasp for air as blood poured down my throat. Eager to cause more pain, he punched again and again until I couldn’t breathe and began to choke. Then he threw my head forward; the blood gushed from my lips, my wracking cough enough to tell him I could take more.

Walking around the other side of the bed, he again used my hair to drag my struggling body onto the floor. I heard my hip snap upon contact with the hardwood. He did too. I looked up through swollen, battered eyes and gurgled, “Please…” It was all he needed to enrage the indignant fire that burned within him. Lifting me to my knees, his first kick landed in my broken hip. He released me, and I flopped onto my back. He began to stomp my body. Trying desperately to get away, I rolled onto my side. Blinding pain shot through me as the pieces of shattered bone in my hip shifted. I tried to curl into a fetal position, but he reached down and broke my arm so I couldn’t protect my head. I could feel his hot breath as he hissed, “You’ll never disrespect me again, bitch!”

The beating seemed to last forever, the ferociousness of his attack unlike any I’d experienced before. And there had been many, for greater indiscretions than this. Somehow, I managed to push myself backward toward the wall with my good leg. Watching my pathetic attempt, he slammed his foot into my curled midsection, hurling my body into the corner I hoped would be my salvation.

With my back to the wall, I lay there barely breathing. I could see nothing out of my blood-smeared swollen lids, could form no words with my destroyed jaw. Both arms and one leg were completely useless; a soft mewling escaped my throat. I heard the bathroom sink turn on, heard him wash his hands under the running water. When the water stopped, I listened as the drain slowly dispelled the water with a slow suckling gurgle.

Hearing his boots clomp back to the bedroom, my wrecked body began to shake uncontrollably. In a casual tone, he mentioned that he might need to call a plumber about the drain just before his boot crushed my esophagus. While I lay there wheezing in the fading light, I listened as he whistled to himself, changed his blood-spattered clothes and went out for the evening.

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Devotion

Devotion

Wrapping my arms about you, your long locks caressing my face in the gentle gust. I reach up and stroke your hair back into place. I smile down at you, your clear blue eyes taking on an aquamarine glimmer in the brilliant rays of the sun. Leaning forward, I place a gentle kiss upon your full lips. They’re frigid beyond belief, not with lack of desire, but from the coolness of the autumn season. Wrapping the blankets tighter around you, I cuddle in closer, hoping to share my own warmth with you. You are all that matters to me. Was that the twitch of a smile I see? I laugh with joy as I hold you closer, trying to warm your cold body. I talk of plans we have for our future together, delight in allowing my mind to wander to the exotic destinations we’ll travel to as I describe them, knowing an eternity awaits us. My head upon your breast, I speak of such things for hours.

Looking up into your eyes once more, I see peace and tranquility there. I see my future reflected in those beautiful glistening orbs. Again, I arrange your wind-mussed-hair, make perfect your countenance, for you are perfect, and I’ll see you no other way. As I run my fingers through your luxurious blonde mane, my thumb brushes your cheek rougher than I would like. The smudge of your makeup reveals a bruise upon your creamy flesh. I kiss your cheek, I apologize profusely for hurting you. More makeup smears as my lips move over your skin. My brow creases as I look upon you again. Something is not quite right. Lifting myself to one elbow, I stare into your face… I begin to scream.

***

“Damn, man! Why do they keep letting her do this to herself? It seems cruel, if you ask me.”

“The Doc says it’s a form of therapy. She can’t come to grips with what she’s done. He thinks bringing her here and letting her lay on the grave might save her. More likely to break her for good, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know, man, it seems twisted. I know she was convicted on an insanity plea, but is this any less fucking sick than keeping your dead girlfriend propped up like some frigging Jenny doll in your bedroom?” He snuffed out his cigarette, “I mean, damn. Look at her. It’s like she’s really holding the dead chick the way she cups her arms… and the talkin’, it’s like she’s really talkin’ to somebody. Then the screams, man – I hear those fucking screams in my sleep every night. Why make her relive it over and over again. I think the Doc gets off on letting her dress up and do this. Why doesn’t he just give her some of those anti-psychotic pills everyone else gets? It’s been like five months now, right bro?”

“Shit, man. Don’t ask me – I just work here. There she goes, running toward the street again. I’ll get her this time, you just have the restraints ready.”

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Scratching

Scratching

I first heard the sound of scrabbling footfalls upon the roof, then scratching at the windowpane. An odd whining seemed to accompany both. Lifting the curtains aside, I peered out to see a dog-like creature with its nails embedded in the exterior wood moldings. It saw me as well, and let out a terrifying howl. Peddling backward, unable to keep my feet, I watched as it freed one forepaw and used it to rip the window casing from the wall. As the glass shattered, and it flung the wooden remains behind it, it leapt through the opening. I could see that it was wounded, shot in the gut and bleeding, as it panted before me.

I tried to shove backward with the heel of my sneakers, but it would have none of that. With lowered head and bared teeth, it placed one enormous paw on my leg to halt my movement. I became paralyzed with fear; it must have sensed as much and began advancing. With its feted breath sharing my own, it growled louder, its curling lip revealing more of its fanged jaw. Then it faltered, weakened by the buckshot in its gut. I reached sideways into the corner and grabbed for the police issue MAG-lite my father had given me. I began slowly edging toward the wall again; it watched with a wary gaze, then its anger, perhaps hunger – I couldn’t say – grew. It hurled itself at me with all its formidable strength. The two of us slammed into the corner battling for our lives. It tore at me with teeth and claws that felt like grappling hooks. My jeans shredded, the flesh torn off the bone of my thigh, it ripped a piece free and gulped it down. Beyond shock, beyond pain, feeling nothing but revulsion, I leaned over and threw up the entire contents of my stomach as it continued to tear at me. Not willing to die without a fight, I lifted the flashlight and brought it down upon its head. A moment of shock stilled both of us; I was terrified I’d simply enraged it more; it was apparently stunned by the blow. Encouraged, I swung again — this time it did enrage the beast; its jaws snapped at my face, my arm, anything it could close its fangs upon. Its raking claws slashed at me. I did all I could to fend off the flesh rending blows. Then, it made a mistake.

In its frenzied attack, it turned its head sideways and lodged its fangs into the wood of the dresser. It jerked and pulled, struggled to free itself, but it had sunken its teeth in so far, it couldn’t dislodge them. I began to bludgeon it repeatedly with the torch. Beating upon it, I collapsed its ribs, broke its hindquarters, and managed to shatter its paw just below the dewclaw. I beat its head to a bloody pulp; one eye collapsed as the upper mandible of its snout shattered. Freed of the grip those teeth held, it yanked again and pulled free of the wood. Both of us bloodied to a pulp lay collapsed and desperate in that corner. It stared at me with its one amber eye — I looked down at its wrecked body, its destroyed head, and I realized the fight was over, I had lost. I dropped the light, used my free hand to pet it once, then twice upon the scruff. It stared back at me mournfully, realizing it was dying. Then in a final surge — perhaps it was mercy — it struck forward and ripped my throat out with one last snap of its destroyed muzzle.

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Burning

Burning

My hands cupped these devastated ears. I wished not to know, not to hear, not to be. The screams… No! I will not hear them. I hear only the patter of their small feet as they dashed through the hall, the oaken floors sounding their playful joy as they rushed to be the first to the finish. Time and again, I had asked them to mind their jostling. The gaslight at the top of the stairwell far too close to the draperies, yet they would not heed my warning; what small boy would – let alone two. Beautiful, cherubic faces framed in locks of golden curls. These were my children, my angels. All who saw them commented upon their beauty, their grace and their charm. Well mannered to a fault in public, how could I deny my darlings the simple love to race the second floor corridor of our home. The narrow confines, the striped paper upon the walls, the red velvet terminus all but beckoned them: ‘Come, play, be children of joy, race my length to see who would win first place.’

I believe this house to be evil; I believe it wished to steal the souls of my beautiful children. I believe it encouraged them to the joy they found only to trap them within the hell in which they perished.

Yes, perished; my dear, sweet ones. Taken in a fit of outlandish foolery, foolery that rang through the house in peels of gleeful laughter. Foolery that this house sought to use to turn the devil’s eye upon itself.

Seeing to the summer linens, I was storing them in the hope chest at the foot of my husband’s bed while I listened to their giggles drift from the hall. By the time the sound of their screams reached my ears, the velvet was fully engulfed in licking flames. My fear realized at last, the drapery had been set alight. I called to them, but Samuel, the older by just shy of half the hour, used his jacket in an attempt to extinguish the blaze. His younger sibling, Matthew, tugged upon the coverings in an attempt to dislodge them from their hangings. Before my foot could leave the floor, I watched as the heaviness of the fabric tore free and descended upon him.

My knees near buckled. Samuel — I could at least save Samuel from this fate. Then yet again, my eyes betrayed me as his arm tangled within the drape. In his panic to dislodge it, the poor child only spun the roaring fabric tighter about himself. One final look he offered me. A look of fear beyond my imagining as he toppled forward; the two tumbled down the wooden stairs tangled together in the burning shroud.

My heart stolen from my chest, the breath I was holding released in a fevered shriek as my impotent arm shot forward. I stood there, watching, waiting, hoping beyond all sanity that what I had just bore witness to had not transpired; though my destroyed mind assured me it had. I retreated backwards into the bedroom. I sought not refuge from the inferno raging at the end of the hall, but refuge from what my mind’s eye would show me over and over again. Finally, finding my back to the corner, I sunk to my skirts, as I prayed to God Almighty to return my darling sons to me.

As the coolness of the wall upon my back began to warm, and the plaster ran with cracks, my tears finally found their way to the flickering light. Again, I did not mourn for myself, I asked only to be granted the peace to no longer hear the screaming of angels.

 

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Rage

Rage

I’d seen it before – glimpsed it from the corner of my eye as I walked past the open doorway – but never had it revealed itself to me openly. Today, as I glanced back into the guest room certain that I would see nothing, there it was, looming before me. It stared back, eyes the color of onyx, seething with anger and intent. Its clawed hands clenched into fists, its interlocking teeth bared in a snarl, its lips quivering with menace, and its chest heaving with hostility and rage. Foulest of all was its opalescent skin, skin that dripped putrescent globules of mucus onto the wooden floor. It conveyed a hatred beyond belief.

Frozen in the moment, I stood stock-still. The crash of the laundry basket hitting the floor yanked me back to the normal world. As soon as the basket landed, the thing hissed and leapt. I turned in a vain attempt to escape. I screamed, but was only able to utter a whimper of shock and terror. Just as I made my way through the doorway to my own bedroom, it landed upon my back. It tore at my hair, ripped apart my clothing and flesh, dug through my shoulder blade with its taloned grip as it ripped the scapula free of the muscle and sinew holding it in place. I fell to the floor, taking it with me.

Having found my voice, I screamed at full volume with every ounce of breath in me. It tore at my face, rent my lip in two and slashed bits of flesh from my cheeks. All the while, I dragged my body forward, desperately trying to escape. Then it bit into the base of my skull – the sensation of its teeth sinking in seared through my brain and halted my forward motion. I lay there waiting to die; it sat upon me, savoring my anguish.

Then another sound reached my ears; a venomous hiss. The thing whipped around, saw the cat hiding under the bed, hissed in return and used its clawed feet to leap into the air, further gouging my back as it fled. I lay there terrified to move; terrified not to try. It was no use, my body would not respond. The cat crawled out from under the bed, sniffed me and mewled deep in his chest as if asking forgiveness before he ran off, abandoning me to my fate.

I lay there alone, unable to move, panting for breath. Six hours before the children would be home, just shy of six hours before their father returned from work. I prayed to God that he would find me first.

From somewhere in the room, the sound of a glob hitting the floor echoed off the wood.

 

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2013 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

plus the blog for the writing group I belong to:
Pen of the Damned

and all the other amazing hoppers on the Coffin Hop list!



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