Author Archives: Nina D'Arcangela

About Nina D'Arcangela

Nina D’Arcangela is a quirky horror writer who likes to spin soul rending snippets of despair. She reads anything from splatter matter to dark matter. She's an UrbEx adventurer who suffers from unquenchable wanderlust. She loves to photograph abandoned places, bits of decay and old grave yards. Nina is a co-owner of Sirens Call Publications, a co-founder of the horror writer's group 'Pen of the Damned', founder and administrator of the Ladies of Horror Picture-prompt Monthly Writing Challenge, and if that isn't enough, put a check mark in the box next to owner and resident nut-job of Dark Angel Photography.

April 10, 2014

‘Information Desk’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

For the second time that day, his cell phone rang with an unknown number. Annoyed, he answered. It was the hospital calling to say his son had been in a minor accident and had broken his arm.

Having arrived at St. John’s Medical Center, he stormed the information desk demanding to know where his son could be found. He gave his last name and after a frustratingly long wait, was handed a visitor’s pass and directions to the Critical Care Unit. Utterly confused by the ward assignment, but terrified, he ran through the corridors until he finally shoved his way through the CCU doors. Other than the sound of beeping monitors and a few muffled sobs coming from behind closed curtains, all was very hushed and quiet within. His son was sitting in a chair off to the side – cast on his right arm, eye blackened, head swathed in bandages. He rushed to the boy and hugged him until he heard a small gasp of pain. “Thank God you’re alright. What happened, bud? Why are you in CCU? Where’s your mother?”

“Mr. Seftling?” As he turned, he saw a large nurse standing behind him.

He rose to his feet and answered, “Yes, I’m Robert Seftling.”

“Please, sir, come with me. We need to speak in private,” her eyes shifted to the waiting child.

Glancing back at his son, he was confused. “I don’t understand.”

She looked at him with great sympathy in her eyes. “Sir, Robbie suffered a nasty fall, but he’ll mend in no time. Now please, step over here for a moment.” Without waiting for his approval, she firmly grasped his upper arm and guided him farther down the hall, out of the boy’s range of hearing.

“It’s regarding your wife. The hospital contacted her at 2:37 p.m. to report Robbie’s accident. I’m afraid that in her rush to get here, Mrs. Seftling suffered an accident of her own.” As a tear formed in the hardened nurse’s eye, he knew; she was gone. He looked back at his son, dropped his eyes to the floor and barely nodded. Clearing her throat, the nurse continued, “She was apparently traveling on Route 391 when her car careened off the road. It took the rescue crew over an hour to reach…”

Interrupting her, he simply said, “Please… stop.”

Pausing for a moment, she allowed the news to take root before placing a gentler hand upon his shoulder. For the first time in twenty-three years as a CCU nurse, she allowed the tears to come. She barely spoke above a whisper. “Someone has been waiting to speak with you.” She gestured with her head to a young man still partially dressed in a fireman’s uniform. The man got up and walked over while the nurse returned to her station.

Fumbling with the straps on his overalls, the young man began, “I… I was the last one to speak with your wife, sir. She asked me… she wanted me to… she was weak, but made me promise to give you a message.”

Robert wanted to reach out and choke the younger man, grab him, hug him, scream and yell his fury; his devastated rage. This man was his final link to his wife. Again, Robert nodded his head as his world collapsed in on him.

“She told me her name was June, said it was important that I repeat her name for you to understand. Even in the condition she was… well, even after what’d happened, she was calm, almost sweet, reminded me of my own… Anyway, she asked me to tell you she was sorry.” Looking uncomfortable, the young fireman shuffled from foot to foot. When it became obvious the other man wasn’t going to respond, there was nothing more to do but leave. He ruffled Robbie’s hair as he passed him and walked out the doors.

A brief smile flickered across Robert’s face; her name wasn’t June. It had been a running joke between them for years. Her name was Nan – just Nan, not Nancy or Anita or anything else Nan might have stood for, and she hated it. So he’d always called her June as a reminder of the month they’d met; his June-bug was saying goodbye.

Turning back, he walked to Robbie and gently grasped his left hand. “Come on, kiddo.”

The nurse began to approach him again, “Sir, there are some forms the hospital needs you to sign. We can’t release…”

He waved her off and managed to croak out, “We have no one else. I’ll come back tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He glanced down at his son.

With pinched lips and a smudge of mascara on her cheek, she placed the clipboard back on the counter top and mouthed, I’m so very sorry…

He knew there would be tear-filled goodbyes, paperwork to be handled, arrangement to be made; but not right now. Now he needed to take Robbie home and somehow make him understand his mommy wasn’t coming back.

(part two of two… yesterday, ‘H’, was part one)

Welcome to my April AtoZ Blog Challenge post! I hope you enjoyed my ramble, and come back for more! Don’t forget to visit the other bloggers participating by clicking on the badge to the right, or simply using this link. :}

16 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, I, Information, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, pain, Writing

April 9, 2014

‘Hairpin’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Please, oh please, oh please, was all she could think as she raced to reach the hospital. The call had come nearly thirteen minutes ago. She’d dropped everything and ran from the house. It was a beautiful summer day; he’d asked if he could ride his bike with the neighboring boys. It was a big moment for him; they’d never invited him along before. There was no reason to say no – she was so proud to see her little man growing up.

Oh, God! He just learned to ride last month, I should never have said yes! Her own thoughts tugged at her as she narrowly missed being crushed by a semi hauling lumber as she darted around a slow moving car in her lane. She panicked the moment she heard his name, she didn’t listen to the rest of what the nurse had said. All that mattered was getting to Robbie.

BWWAAHHH! A blaring horn interrupted her thoughts. She was rounding a hairpin turn in the outside lane passing yet another car when she looked over at the driver. He was trying to signal her; swinging his arms wildly as he screamed from inside his own vehicle. She glanced forward just in time to see a cement truck bearing down on her at full speed. Slamming the brakes and yanking the wheel hard to the left, she saw a flash of metal just before her tires left the road.

The car tumbled down the wooded mountainside. As it careened off trees and rocks, the sound of shattering glass and screeching metal was a symphony of noise in the cramped interior. Mouth stretched open; the violent downward motion choked back her scream. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, what took mere seconds turned into infinity as she watched through the cracked windshield. The car eventually came to rest in the ravine; all was silent inside.

(part one of two… tomorrow, ‘I’, will be part two)

18 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, H, Hairpin, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, pain, Writing

April 8, 2014

‘Grass’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

I’ll sing to you, my love, a song so sweet it will echo for eternity. I long to be near you, but you’ve been taken away to a place I cannot follow. Our hopes and dreams now only memory. I mourn the loss of each cherished moment, each impassioned embrace. I come to this field, run my fingers through the dewy grass as the sun arrives; bask in the shadows as the day retreats. I reach for you, much as I reach for the times we’ll never share again, yet always my hand strikes this vile marker placed above your grace. Still, I feel your radiant smile as I sing; it broadens with each blush upon my cheek. My heart in your hands, as yours is in mine, always.

13 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, G, Grass, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, muse, pain, Writing

April 7, 2014

‘Fluid’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Sitting before a low table on a pile of cushions, she prepares herself in the company of her four-footed companions. The atmosphere is one of calm anticipation. This is a seeing night, a night when she will leave behind her own world and step into another’s. The dim light cast by the mica wall sconces along with the candles flickering throughout the room, bounce an eerie glow off the collection of oddities surrounding her. The thick lustrous smoke curling upward from the burning incense takes on a nearly animate quality in the strange light. Here, in this place, none can touch her, but she can reach outward and touch so many.

Choosing a vial from the many she keeps stored in this protected sanctum, she pours a small measure into the silver chalice before her. Lifting the cup and holding it close to her body, the drops warm and grow in volume, filling the over-sized goblet just enough to reflect her glittering eyes as she peers into its surface. She watches through the viscous liquid as he steps from his truck. Her vision distorted by the tremble of the precious fluid held captive in the vessel, she observes as his would-be attacker crouches in the darker shadows.

Her heart quickens with expectancy of what is to come; she watches through amber tinted vision as the assailant silently approaches…

15 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, F, flash fiction, Fluid, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, muse, Writing

April 5, 2014

‘Eight’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Dwindling twilight; a summer breeze. He hands her a chilled glass of wine. She smiles, thanks him, sips the dry fruity liquid and blushes. He returns the smile, sips from his own glass and looks out over the lapping water of the bay. Taking her hand, her leads her down the steps, across the patio and opens the gate leading to the ocean. Slipping off her shoes, she steps through the gate and onto the cooling sand. He follows. Hand in hand they stroll to the water’s edge. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss upon her forehead, her cheek, her moistened lips. They walk in silence, letting the water caress their ankles.

Rounding the tip of the inlet, the water is much more aggressive here, the waves coming ashore with more force. The open ocean lies before them. They’ve always dreamed of sailing away together, escaping the drudgery of day to day life and living as nomads on the sea. They walk for what seems hours, both glasses long since drained, both sets of feet tiring of the sand. She smiles in the moonlight and nods back the way they came, indicating they return home. Never one to deny her, he smiles and nods his agreement. They turn, begin the trek back; the tide is coming in once more. She veers towards the gentler sand; he tightens his grip, holding her in place. She glances up, sure he has misread her cue. His face is shadowed, but seems harder, less indulgent. She tries to pull her hand free; he doesn’t allow it. He draws her further into the water; she tugs back, still believing he is playing. The moonlight slants across his face; she sees no mirth in his smile, but an ugliness she didn’t know existed. She begins to panic; he drags her toward the undertow. Being the stronger swimmer, he doesn’t fear the water at night; he relished the fight of the high tide. She swims only when the sea is calm and fears the deeper water. Waves begin to crash over them; she sputters; he grins. Turning with an iron grip on her wrist, he drags her out into the inky blackness.

Eight days crawl by; he still clutches the swim trunks the police believe he was wearing the night he returned home, unable to find her. The detective sits on the opposing deck chair, tells him there is nothing more they can do. He begs, he weeps, he pleads for them to understand she would never enter the water at night alone. The detective understands, is sympathetic, but must still inform him they are declaring her lost at sea. The only item found thus far is her swimsuit with its custom label that washed ashore. He identified it himself she reminds him. He is shattered, a broken man, the love of his life lost. The detective apologizes once more and excuses herself. The police presence withdraws from his home, his life, his world. He is the affluent one; there is no reason to suspect foul play. There wasn’t even a life insurance policy to question; she never purchased one. Playing the part of the grieving widower, he ceremoniously lays her to rest at sea; their friends all mourn his loss.

Three months later, he sails into port; she waits for him in the lavish bungalow they purchased on the French island of Réunion. They’ve had no contact in the months between. For two estranged lovers, it has been a long wait. They reunite; he pours each of them a chilled glass of wine; she asks if there was suspicion on his part. He tells her of his hysterics, burying his wife at sea, the long journey to reach the island. She asks again if he was suspected of having a hand in his wife’s death. He laughs as he answers that while he did indeed have exactly that – a hand in his wife’s death – they never suspected a thing. She asks how that could be. He smiles, places his wine on the table and cups her face while reassuring her the plan was flawless. Convincing her older sister to marry him, then gift him her wealth was a stroke of genius; it placed him above reproach and set them up to share a lifetime of extravagance. She’s the one he loves. The wedding; a ruse.

She smiles in return; she’s been swimming these waters for a while and knows which underwater caves have air pockets, and which don’t.

12 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, E, Eight, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, Writing

April 4, 2014

‘Debris’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Pushing his way through the crowd in a near panic, the old man searches each and every face, praying to God that one of them belongs to his grandson. Back at the house, the ruckus of screeching brakes as the train derailed woke them all earlier than expected. He, however, woke moments before it began with a dreadful pit in his stomach. Still searching the faces, he catches sight of a book fluttering on the side of the tracks, a sketchbook. His heart clenches and he nearly drops to the ground from the pain, but he can’t – he has to know. Making his way through the debris, he looks down, and there among the other rubble is a rendering of the most beautiful woman he has ever seen; it’s his own wife the way she looked on their wedding day, the way she looks in the portrait that hangs over the dining room mantle.

With a shaking hand, he begins to reach for it, but falls as his knees give way. Police and onlookers rush to his side; he knows they are speaking to him, but can’t make out their muffled voices as their hands try to lift him to his feet. It’s all a blur of motion and sound, his only focus is the dried blood splattered across the page. The soul-wrenching horror of a celebration that will never take place pushes him beyond his body’s limit. As the burgeoning morning blackens to night once more before his eyes, he has a fleeting thought – his grandson describing the eerie, almost mystical way 250 tons of speeding metal hurtling down the tracks is nearly silent until it’s just upon you…

(part two of two… yesterday, ‘C’, was part one)

8 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, D, Debris, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, muse, pain, Writing

April 3, 2014

‘Cat Nap’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

The tracks seem so lonely at night, that’s one of the things he likes about coming here – the solitude. Most kids his age would rather hang out with their friends, or go to a party. But not him, he likes the quiet of the night and the silence of the tracks. He’s been coming here as often as he can since he was knee high to a grasshopper, that’s what his gramps says. His grandfather is the only one who knows about his late night forays to the station. It’s their secret, has been for the better part of fourteen years. Yeah, it’s lonely out here at night, but that’s alright with him.

He walks the fifty yards or so down the tracks to the last lamp post past the junction and sits down, sketch book in hand. One day, after he becomes famous, he’s going to come back here and draw that lamp post, and the view back to the station – well, the shack that holds the automatic ticket dispenser and bench that everyone calls a station. But for tonight, his last night before going off to college, he’ll sit and draw like he’s done every other night. Once his pencil starts moving, his hand will know what to do.

Looking down at what he’s sketched, he thinks to himself, not too bad. He’s happy, but stiff and sore. He needs to get home and catch a cat nap before helping his mom set up for the going away party she’s planning for him. Stretching to his feet, he relishes the smell of the predawn musk that hangs in the air – there’s nothing like it, and he knows he’ll miss it when he’s away. Collecting his knapsack, still looking down at the drawing, he starts heading back to the junction.

(part one of two… tomorrow, ‘D’, will be part two)

12 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, C, Cat Nap, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, muse, pain, Writing

April 2, 2014

‘Bloom’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

The tantalizing scent from years gone by draws her to the past. Ruminating once more, she sits before the window and looks out over the garden. The laughter and joy of children running amongst the flowers and tall grasses brings a sad smile to her face. She leans her head upon the pane, her delicate hand reaching up to join with the leaded glass as well. Shifting to stare upward toward the warm glow of the sun, she squints. With a sigh, her eyes drop to her lap, her hand follows. She longs to run in the tall grasses, to play amongst the riot of fragrant flowers now in bloom, but alas, the braces upon her legs no longer allow such things. No matter the grandeur surrounding her, it does nothing to alleviate the pang of loss she feels. She rolls back to the desk and rings for the nurse, her sole companion during the hours her uncle is at work. The brace upon her left leg is beginning to chafe once more; it irritates what little skin she is able to feel. She longs for her mother, her father, but most of all – her younger brother. The year is 1957; the news she reads is encouraging but for her, it comes too late.

16 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, B, Blog hop, Bloom, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, muse, pain, Writing

April 1, 2014

‘Abrade’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

A girl stands alone upon a cliff; the winds abrade the stone face of the rock much as they abrade her worn and tattered memories. Memories once held dear and cherished, memories never meant to betray or show the truth behind the lie… memories that should have carried her through a lifetime of sorrows both overwhelming and small. Buffeted by the wind, tossed about by the images playing in her mind, she opens her arms as she opens her eyes. Her tears glisten on the edge of the precipice. Spilling forth, they are carried on the breeze to yet another sorrowful moment in her existence.

Welcome to my A to Z Blog Challenge post! I hope you enjoyed my ramble, and come back for more! Don’t forget to visit the other bloggers participating by clicking on the badge to the right, or simply using this link. :}

24 Comments | tags: 2014 A to Z Challenge, A, Abrade, Bloghop, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, muse, pain, Writing

February 14, 2014

A Heart for Valentine’s Day

By Nina D'Arcangela

Can you feel it? My heart? It is beating solely for you; so strong – so swift; the rapid pump pulsing ever so swiftly through me. My body pressed so close to your own; my soft fetid breath scampers across your sweet creamy skin.

I can feel your heart – I feel its quickening pace as I lean in ever closer, fingers trailing down your neck, across your throat, to the exposed cleavage you’ve offered me so unwittingly in your desire to please. You do wish to please me, don’t you my sweet? With just a single breath you will inspire me forever; ignite my undying lust; engender my everlasting devotion.

But what will this breath cost you my love, my scrumptious little morsel? Are you willing to give me the breath I long to have, the one I will take whether you offer it or not? Yes, my darling pet – hush now, I’ll have what is mine for you haven’t the will or the power to stop me from taking it.

My gentle stroke continues; a light fluttery caress of my small hand across your bosom; the first scrape of my nail on your soft swelling skin. Oh – did that small wounding hurt you? Gentle thing that you are, you know not of the glorious pain I could bring to you. Please believe that I would never allow your pain to exist beyond a mere moment. Hush now, be calm – there is no need to fuss, it will only last but a gasp for you, but for me – I shall remember it for all eternity.

There, be a good dear, lean back… Yes I will lie with you. Why would I ever abandon a creature as glorious as yourself, allowing another to set their desires upon you? Did you not understand my claim of ownership? Do you honestly believe you still have a choice in the matter? Please my little pet, fret if you will, but know it only excites me more.

Yes, that is wonderful… That look of confusion, of fear – no one is coming to save you; you are mine and I will have my entire fill.

Your body now pressed prone below mine, the string of spittle still dangling from my own salivating mouth dancing around your glorious cleavage. Tentatively you look up to reassure yourself that there is no danger in this game we play. My loving caresses; my soft curvaceous body a mate to every sway and curve of your own; what a perfect fit we two. What a very perfect fit indeed.

As my long, soft hair gently strokes your sensitive skin, the sensation heightens your arousal – I can smell it. No need to look so frightened again, you are my pet, my doll, my toy – I am your Angel. I shall unfetter your heart of all the distrust and skittish fear this cruel world has stamped upon it. This beautiful, undulating, pulsating, quickening heart of yours.

Our eyes meet one final time; yours soft and gentle; as crystal clear as an azure sky; so tainted by pain, yet untouched by the depths of true malevolence. Such a perfect specimen you are. A fleeting moment of fear passes through those depthless orbs upon seeing the cold hard truth of my own; but only a moment – as I promised, I will not let you suffer…

Our eyes still locked; the exhalation of my lungs washing over you; my hand ripping through the pretty piece of fabric you’ve chosen to entice me with this evening. As the fabric falls away and your soft flesh begins to peel back under my ever digging claws, a look of panicked confusion crosses your face.

Ahhh… the moment begins. The moment when your fragile diminutive mind has still not recognized the danger that is quite literally upon you; the danger of the one you have called to you this night. Your poor feverish mind only now beginning to understand the situation, yet still unwilling to comprehend it; nor recognize the impulses that are telling you that your body is registering an odd sensation – an unbelievable amount of pain.

Staring into your fathomless eyes, I watch as the moment of recognition dawns there, lasting only the duration of a single heartbeat in which you realize on the most primitive level that you will not live to the end of this breath.

Yes, this is the glory, this is my desire, this is the euphoria I crave!

It’s not that I wish to rip such a beautifully undulating organ from your perfectly formed body, but how else shall I experience the utterly inexplicable pleasure I feel while watching what could be the dawn of an eon for me, yet only a breath for you… How else will I glimpse it in your eyes? The look of simple fear that is now ingrained in your stare feeds me in a way I could never describe to a mind that does not understand the raw power of emotional innocence. Yes, I am ripping your heart out of your chest; and yes it is beyond your most untamed imaginings to comprehend what watching this thought enter your disbelieving mind makes me feel. My own body vibrates with the thrill of it. But it lasts only a mere instant before your eyes glaze over like polished glass – now the eyes of a doll – my doll, my beautiful expired toy.

Thank you for sating my need with your life; thank you for giving me your innocent trust; thank you for understanding how badly I needed this moment between us. The sweet taste of your blood as I take my first lick of your now gaping chest tells me of your love for me. If you did not understand, if you did not want me to have my fill, would your blood not taste bitter to my delicately lapping tongue? I believe it would, and as your juices run down my arm from your no longer beating heart, I feel the stroke of your own caress given back to me even in death.

This is how I know of your love for me.

You would sacrifice so much that I may sate myself upon you. Did you know of this sacrifice from the onset? No, you did not – but it would not have mattered, you loved me, you would have given me all that I asked of you. You sought me out; you first approached me; you pressed your body to mine in offering. You honor me with the one thing that you can now never give to another; and I shall not be wasteful of your gift, no my darling – I shall not waste what a delicious fawn such as yourself has given me.

A few more tentative licks while your blood still trickles… how I loathe to abandon this moment we have shared together; this adoration of the tender and fragile life you have given me. But our moment has passed my sweetness, and now there is but one way to keep you forever.

I wish to tell you that you will always be a part of me. I wish to explain the joy I shall feel as I sink my teeth into your delicious heart and consume it so that we may always be together. I wish you to know the pleasure that lavishing in your beautifully torn apart carcass will bring me while I lick you clean. I wish I could have eased your fear by letting you know how I shall treat your now empty body; that I shall treat it with more respect by cleaning it with my own mouth than any other creature could have treated it in this short, yet exquisite life you have just left. But I can not… nor could I have told you of these things before our euphoria, for it would have stolen the magic from the moment and ruined what we shared.

Such is the existence of a lover such as I; to find a perfectly bloomed flower only to pluck it and watch it whither… then again, who does not do such a thing – and who better to honor this tradition than the Angels themselves.