Category Archives: pain

Drops

With each tear that fell from her cheek, another drop of laudanum fell from the pipette. Chewing her lower lip, she wondered if the choice she’d made was a just one. Closing her eyes, she drew forth a fond memory of her once vital son laughing as he played – a sound she’s not heard in some time. Her knees buckled as her resolve strengthened. A few more drops and his pain would be ended. Climbing the stairs, the glass of apple juice trembling in her hand, she choked back her own wail of agony.

© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

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I Know

I sit here alone, thoroughly abandoned, and deserving so. Awash in paralytic dread, I mourn what I have not yet lost, but know will soon be stolen from me. I yearn to believe hope is not dying, I long to hold it near, to cherish it dearly. I ache to know some degree of stability; struggle to somehow make it last, even for just a moment longer. But assigned the jester’s roll, I am yet again the patch, never the permanent fixture. Brilliant shimmering trinkets surround me, I see their shine, their gleam, yet I shield my eyes from the pain I know awaits if I gaze upon them. To feel what I have felt, to know what I have known, to watch it dissolve from a distance is a torture I cannot express. I batter my fists impudently against this unrelenting barrier, but again, I act the fool. I can only hide for so long. Reality slams against my senses, intrudes upon my torment, dares me to call this solitude. This damning truth insists that I allow the glimmer to dim, to see with wide eyes what would be shown to me, that which will be stolen from me. Yet still, for all the anguish, the tears, the pain that will not allow me to draw even a single quelling breath, I see beauty. I see only you, and you shall destroy me.

© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.


Red and Blue – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

Red and Blue

I curl up next to the fireplace, rest my head against the surround. A goblet of heavy merlot in my hand; heavy for its body or heavy for my longing, I cannot say. As I stare into the crackling blaze, my mind wanders. So many memories from years gone by, so much love shared here, in this very room. My soul shrieks with grief as I collapse into a ball, sobbing.

The fire now a blur through wet eyes, my head lolls and I glance toward the tree with its twinkling lights, glittering balls and brightly wrapped packages tucked neatly below it. You always were such a perfectionist. My eyes flutter shut as the day you dressed the tree forces itself upon my mind. You were so happy, so blissful to pick the largest one available. I recall joking that one of us would have to move out so the tree could move in. You kissed me with icy cold lips and a bright red nose. Little did I know how soon I would long to feel that frigid touch once more. Your enthusiasm knowing no bounds, you spent the next week arranging everything just so; making sure that the colorful glass baubles were placed with precision, everything to an exacting measure. I recall jokingly moving a strand of tinsel when you were not watching, only to reenter the room moments later to find it placed back in its original position. The gifts. Oh, how you tortured me over the gifts long before the season began. A sad smile steals across my lips as I think of the hours you spent fretting over the perfect surprise for each of our friends. As I sip from my glass, a slight chuckle escapes me only to end in a sob as I recall your distress over wrapping each gift in the proper color foil. God, how you loved this day.

I think back upon the last evening I saw you. I was standing at the island between this room and the kitchen preparing dinner; you remembered one final detail that you couldn’t do without. I kissed you as you bounded past me, told you not to be long and that I loved you. You grabbed your coat from the hook and turned to me, purse in hand, golden locks bouncing and smiled before replying as you always did – not nearly the way I love you. I smiled back; you left. Two hours later, a knock sounded on the door. I wasn’t worried, you often became infatuated with something or other and lost track of the time. As I moved to open the front door, I noticed the bare flicker of red and blue light drifting in through the balcony doors. Seeing the officers standing upon the threshold, I walked to the glass, placed my palms and forehead to it, and knew in that moment… you were gone. When I came to after passing out, the officers helped me to the couch and explained that there was an accident at the corner – our corner, and a young woman had been hit by a car that ran the red light. You were that young woman.

My eyes crack open seeking a red light on the tree, your tree – our tree. But instead, my sight finds the red fairy lights you used to decorate the balcony. Barely able to stand, I stumble to the sliding doors. As I fumble to open them through my tears, the merlot in my glass pours onto the white carpet. My addled mind tells me how angry you’ll be if I don’t clean the deep burgundy spill right away. Finally managing the lock, I step through onto the bitterly cold veranda. Standing at the rail, I exist in a halo of red light, my long chestnut mane whipping in the wind. Another balcony, one belonging to our neighbor, is adorned in blue twinkling lights. I wonder why I’d not noticed it before now. The blue and red lights blur together as my inebriated mind struggles to adjust. Five stories below, more lights twinkle, cars rush past; the ground wears a fresh blanket of snow. I’m so tired, and the blanket seems so inviting. Please, don’t go without me – words I should have spoken that night. Letting myself lean forward, a blur of red and blue swirls all around me. I grasp the railing, sink to my knees and crawl back inside. Too much a coward to follow you; too devoted to allow your memory to die.

© Copyright 2014 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2014 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 all the other amazing hoppers!
Coffin Hop



‘Xiphoid’ #AtoZChallenge

Plunging the blade deep into the abdominal cavity, I drive it upward until I hit the xiphoid. Twisting slightly to my right, I skirt the sternum and slice through the costal cartilage attaching the ribs to the breast plate. Careful not to puncture the internal organs, I stop my upward motion at the manubrium. Drawing the sharpened metal along the topside of the upper-most rib, I listen to the harsh breathing. Returning to the original point of entry, I pause, then again thrust into and through the abdominal wall, swiftly separating the flesh and muscle from the body’s left side.

Laying the knife on the tray, I reach down and peel the cavity open with a great deal of force. A slight groan escapes amongst the pops and rending sounds as the connective tissue still in place rips away to reveal the fluttering heart. A marvelous thing the human body, a machine designed by the hand of a master; a fragile balance struck with a sadistic keeper.

© Copyright 2014 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.

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. :}

‘Twang’ #AtoZChallenge

There was an audible twang. Turning back, he wrinkled his brow in disgust. Four! Four perfectly placed stitches had torn loose so far. He was baffled and more than a bit annoyed. Peering at the remainder of the skein, he examined it for defects; it looked perfectly fine. He wrapped a short length around his fingers and gave a hard tug. He received nothing but resistance for his effort. A bit perplexed, his fingers slipped between her lips to remove the defective stitch; he inspected it thoroughly with a loop before discarding it with the others.

Making his way to the old apothecary cabinet his grandfather had used many years ago, he opened each draw until he finally found what he was looking for. Cat gut! Sometimes the old fashioned way was the only way. Threading the much thicker needle with the coarse sinew, he again finished the sutures. He stood and stared in consternation for a good ten minutes willing them to stay fast yet daring them to break free. Finally satisfied, he turned to reach for the clay and began the final stages of reconstruction.

Two hours later, after finishing the cosmetic details, he gazed down upon the face he had just rebuilt and was pleased with his efforts. He’d done a fine job of covering the blemishes and abused areas. She looked peaceful, but the sedative would soon wear off. After a brief wait, a slight murmur reached his ears; one eye began to tear open. As his grandfather used to say, ‘death was just around the corner, one had to always be prepared,’ though he doubted his grandfather had meant it in quite the same way.

With a deep sigh, he inserted a trocar into her femoral vein to drain the body, then moved to insert another into her brachial artery to introduce the embalming fluid. The art of embalming was one so few had the opportunity to appreciate. Apparently, she was not in an appreciative mood.

© Copyright 2014 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.

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. :}

‘Sting’ #AtoZChallenge

A brief but brutal spasm of pain shoots through her head followed by the gut wrenching memory of the last seeing. It draws her to her knees. The peace and serenity of the past now forever tainted. A flash through time, her mind reels; his eyes peer back into hers, the chalice is thrown, the fluid within betrays her trust. A warning forgotten, perhaps dismissed, arrogance assures her safety in this hallowed realm. Never has she been so wrong.

As she watches, the assailant approaches his target in the dark abandoned lot. A struggle ensues, but ends in a mere blink; the violence feeds her hunger, holds her in its thrall. She misjudges; allows the corridor to widen, permits him to see her watching. For a brief moment, the portal opens on both sides. She sits stunned as he jabs the narrow pig sticker through the wavering fluid and into her left eye.

Now, when it is a seeing night, she seeks only the most remorseful; souls in need of comfort and caring, not the heart-pounding excitement of an outcome unknown. Now, when it is a seeing night, she sees with only one eye – the other forever clouded and dead to the word. Knowing better, she no longer reaches for the vials containing drops of venom. Having learned her lesson well, the wasps’ sting will forever be with her – but always more so on a seeing night.

© Copyright 2014 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.

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. :}

‘Revealed’ #AtoZChallenge

Tears run in rivulets between the ashen layers – they carve their own landscape in the hardening cushion of falling powder. Fathers, mothers, small children, they reach for one another; some huddle close with barely a moment to spare, others remain a hands-width apart – all held fast in anguish as death sets upon them. This thriving valley swiftly transforms into a diorama of human terror and suffering.

Many years go by, a window into the past is unearthed; horrors the likes of which mankind has never seen before are revealed. A visage of haunting forms preserved in their final moments of agony – life pocketed in a cocoon of time; tragedy locked in the layers of its vice-like grip. Coincidence that this stroke of Mother Nature’s brush was encapsulated with such precision, or warning that another is coming?

© Copyright 2014 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.

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. :}

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