Category Archives: Quirky

October 25, 2012

Coffin Hop 2012: Inside – Day 2

Inside – Day 2

I would have thought knowing they were inside me would be the worst part, but it’s not – the mind adapts to such things; it’s feeling their movements, their scurrying back and forth beneath my skin that is the most brutal part. I don’t know how they were able to gestate inside me; they seem maddened at not being able to get out. Their constant frenzy keeps me up at night – I’m getting no sleep; it keeps me sick throughout the day – nourishment something I’ve not known in weeks; a prisoner in my own home – I’m terrified to go into the light, I look the part of a monster – a filth ridden hag.

I wonder: will they roast in the sunlight if I let myself burn in its glorious blaze? The sun beating down upon me, turning my skin the blistering red of cracked paint on canvas. Perhaps I should wander to the basement and embrace the furnace with its searing hot metal, cooking myself like meat thrown upon a hot skillet. Or simply douse myself with open flame; does it matter at this point? Tempted to try such things, my mind wanders to the possibilities: what if they panic from the heat and start to run, cascading in a black surging mass from my ears and shrieking maw? Nowhere for me to go, no way to escape them – more still coming, an endless flow continuing their frantic evacuation. What if they are no longer only in me, but all over me? The thought alone drives me beyond the limits of this tenuous sanity I now grasp.

God, the cacophony of their humped bodies sliding between the soft tissue of my brain and the hardness of my skull is deafening. I must find a way to get them out! Nails gouging at myself once more, ripping chunks of skin from my own body, sending fresh streams of puss and blood running down my face, past my eyes – my mind shuts down and I feel no more.

This path one that will lead us to obscure things…

Come with me over the next week, as I spin my tale for Coffin Hop 2012. This will be a story told day by day – on the final day, encapsulated into one post.

In honor of the tour, I’ll be giving away a goodie per day to one random recipient who leaves a comment on each post. My prizes will come in the form of e-books, print copies, eZines, and an unending subscription to The Sirens Call eZine as well. (plus there may be a rubber duckie or two) All prizes will be randomly selected on November 1st, as per the Coffin Hop guidelines found here on my Coffin Hop 2012 page, along with a list of the other bloggers. Please don’t forget to visit the Coffin Hop Blog for news, updates, delirious ramblings, and magnificent posts from the other bloggers as well!

12 Comments | tags: Coffin Hop 2012, Day 2, flash fiction, horror, Inside, muse, Nina D'Arcangela, pain | posted in Coffin Hop 2012, darkness, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, Quirky, twisted

October 24, 2012

Coffin Hop 2012: Inside – Day 1

By Nina D'Arcangela

Inside – Day 1

I can hear them scratching – almost ticking, always clicking, as they move around inside my head. It’s maddening. Their tiny little feet always touching, testing, feeling their way about. Each hair coated limb sliding between the soft tissue and bone – scuttling through the crevasse in between. Growing in and feeding off the fluid…

Sometimes, when I’m looking in the mirror, in the worst moments, the moments where I have to hold onto the basin to support myself and can barely catch a full breath, I swear I see a shadow scuttle behind my eye. The quick darting of a grotesque form moving swiftly past before I can fully focus on it. My own visage in the mirror is a horror in itself; long hair a greasy tangled mess, cheeks sunken and hollow, skin a sickly yellow hue from their rancid poison. Sinking to the floor, scratching at my face to be rid of them, I gouge my eye sockets with filthy, torn nails. Will they find their way through the opening if I offer one? Covered in blood oozing from the destroyed tissue around my eyes, forehead slashed bare, with flesh caked beneath my fingernails, I crawl on hands and knees to the bed, where I cower beneath the covers seeking refuge, hoping to hide. But there is no refuge, nowhere to hide, they are always there with me – inside me, there is no escape from what is inside…

A dark and angst filled road we have chosen…

Come with me over the next week, as I spin my tale for Coffin Hop 2012. This will be a story told day by day – on the final day, encapsulated into one post.

19 Comments | tags: Coffin Hop 2012, flash fiction, horror, Inside, Nina D'Arcangela, pain, twisted | posted in Coffin Hop 2012, darkness, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, Quirky, twisted

August 8, 2012

The Slip

By Nina D'Arcangela

The texture of the brass dials a thing so fetching, feel them spin, with a tick and a click, tightening ever so slightly as the prize is nearing.

Nimble fingers twist knobs , first left, then right, and back yet again. Feeling for the slightest shift, as slowly they spin.

A tick, a click, the slip. The first dial is set. How these tired tips work at gaining entry, their art lost to time, man’s arrogance a false sentry.

These fingers you see, they are for hire, they spin, they click only for the most discriminate buyer. What lies beyond the beauty of this contraption of brass, these fingers care not – their job only to spin, to click, to find the – slip.

Ah, the slipping of the final pin into place, pride to be had for a task well done. These fingers find no pride being named thief, only in the triumph of yet another breach.

Never touching the treasures concealed inside, the gift is in the spinning, the clicking and the glorious sound of the decisive slipping as the lock disengages, and the tomb readies to release.

The thrill done, the game complete, the mastery of infiltrating the impenetrable is what these tired digits did seek. Their desirous splendor being the one called to task, no other hand as capable on the brass.

These fingers, they are old, and worn with time, slowly they reach out and gentle the slide.

A slight pop, the pressure released, the door opens a mere chink, allowing for those who would have the briefest of peeks.

The thrill these old finger have felt now past, gone on this final releasing of brass. This buyer untrue with intentions corrupt, these fingers have felt for the final time the tick, the click, the magnificent slip!

*****

For those of you who don’t know, in each issue of The Sirens Call eZine, we do a Comparative Flash amongst ourselves with fairly strict guidelines. We choose an image, and each of us writes a flash piece of 300 words – no more, no less – that is inspired by the image itself. We don’t discus the topic each has chosen, nor do we reveal our pieces to each other until everyone participating has completed their flash. Here is the image, and my piece that ran in the June issue – Kalla and I went head to head on this one. I hope you enjoy it! I had a ton of fun writing it… and the picture, what is it exactly? You tell me ;}