Tag Archives: fiction

October 26, 2014

Whump – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

Whump

The first sound I heard was the whup-whup of its wings; I could feel the pressure of the air pressing down upon me as the beast beat a steady rhythm above. I was being dragged toward it, dragged through a field of claws that scraped my skin, tore my clothes; ripped apart my mind. Whatever was dragging me had a firm grip upon my backpack and was grunting while it ran in a lumbering lurch. Fleshed in red, with pieces of luminous crystal protruding from its bark-like skin, something about it seemed familiar, but I couldn’t imagine why.

As we drew closer, creatures rushed from the dragon’s gaping maw, they hefted its green tongue, carried it aloft.

The thing dragging me halted. The others tried to grab me with their talons, lift me onto the dragon’s tongue. In my mind, I struggled; the entire time the whup-whup of the wings blinded me with coarse pellets carried on its breath. I was in the midst of an inferno. As I looked around, I saw flames licking the edges of this new hell. The dragon fought its foe with mighty plumes of spray. The others rolled my limp form onto its side. The familiar one spoke, a glistening madness in its eyes as I rolled backward by no choice of my own and landed on the wyvern’s tongue.

Its rasping texture stung my flesh as it tasted my blood, molded to my form, began drawing me toward its maw. The beast’s minions trotted alongside, assisting the tongue as it serpentined its way back to its host. The closer we drew, the fouler the dragon’s breath became, until finally I was consumed through the yawning rift.

The beast took to the air. I could feel the rock and sway from within the cavern of its gullet. More creatures waited there; they began to pull me apart. They delved with their translucent hands into my gut, only to emerge covered in blood. I fought them with what will I had, but it was futile – one of their young smothered my face, pulsing noxious fumes into my lungs. When eventually they finished, all but one sat in stony silence. The attending creature looked down at me and spoke through some odd contraption it wore on its glistening face. It grasped my hand, spoke with a force I couldn’t deny, but force or not, I didn’t understand its words. My head lulled to the side drawn by the ever present whup-whup of the air as the wings continued to beat. As I began to lose consciousness, I saw a slit in its scales; an opening. With all that was left in me, I flung myself toward the fissure. The creature lost its grip upon my hand.

As darkness stole over me, my final sensation was one of falling.

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

11 Comments | tags: Coffin Hop 2014, CoffinHop, fiction, horror, Nina D'Arcangela, story, Whump, writing | posted in Author, Coffin Hop 2014, Flash Fiction, Horror, Story, twisted, Writing

October 25, 2014

A Foul Day – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

By Nina D'Arcangela

A Foul Day

It moved! I swear on my mother’s soul I saw it move! Glancing up, I scan the faces surrounding the table trying to determine if anyone else saw the jerking motion. No one seems to have noticed; they’re all laughing and drinking, chattering away happily while waiting to be fed. I blink a few times to clear my eyes. I’ve been working too hard lately, putting in too many hours, that’s all. I raise the carving knife and fork, once more preparing to plunge them into the bird trussed before me. It fucking moved again! This time with an accompanying slopping sound. A bead of sweat breaks out on my upper lip; my wife is staring at me hesitantly. With both hands now resting on either side of the beast, I take a few slow, deep breaths to calm my overwrought nerves. A slight nudge comes from my right. It’s my wife, a strained smile on her face; she nods toward the foul creature. I nod back. Bringing the arm with the fork up, I dab at the dew above my lip and make an off-hand comment about it being roasting in here. Everyone laughs. A small shake of my head, I exhale and raise the knife once again to begin slicing the meat. As the gleaming instruments near the platter, I hear a voice in my head. ‘Go on ya piss-ant piece of shit – cut me open. Show everyone what a big man you are and gut me. Gut me like you gutted your wife when the doctor told her your sperm are useless. Ya didn’t have the balls to stick it to your wife and knock her up, and you don’t have the balls to stick it to me either!’

What the fuck? My knees nearly buckle and my wife reaches out to steady me. I jerk my arm away. The room has grown quiet, the tension nearly palpable. I toss out another remark meant as a joke; the responding chortle is terse, fraught with unease. My wife is no longer smiling; she looks worried. I try to reassure her with a smile of my own, but a bare shake of her head lets me know she’s not buying it. ‘Ya do know she doesn’t have any faith in you anymore, right? She was expecting to marry a man, and look what she got – you! She knows about Terry, too,’ I almost utter a response. ‘Yeah, she’s known for the past month that you’re banging that bitch from work, she just doesn’t want to ruin the holidays for the family. Your ass is out of here as soon as the new year starts, buddy!’

Sure that I’m pale as a ghost, I lean on the table for support once more. My head hanging, limbs trembling; the nervous tick of the fork tapping against a glass the only sound in the nearly silent room. My wife reaches over again and lays a hand on my forearm. I lash out to shove her away, forgetting that I’m holding the carving knife with that hand. We stare at one another in shock for a heartbeat before her body crashes forward into the china on the table; her throat sliced ever so neatly from side to side. As the crimson of her blood mixes with the pumpkin colored hue of the tablecloth, a slight gurgling is all that resounds. I look on in horrified disbelief, then one of the children in the room lets out a horrified screech. The demon starts again, ‘Ha! Look what you…’ I begin stabbing it with the fork and maniacally chopping it to bits with the blade while screaming incoherently. Everyone in the room is looking at me like I’ve gone insane. I try to explain about the turkey… not realizing I was still holding the knife… the pressure I’ve been under… but there isn’t a sympathetic eye in the small gathering. ‘You know what you have to do, don’t ya? If you don’t, they’ll lock you back up in the loony bin again.’ An icy cold sheet of acceptance washes over me as I move to the doorway, blocking my wife’s teenage brother from escaping.

I was really hoping this family would be different, not like the last…

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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

15 Comments | tags: A Foul Day, Coffin Hop 2014, CoffinHop, fiction, horror, Nina D'Arcangela, story, writing | posted in Author, Coffin Hop 2014, Flash Fiction, Horror, Story, twisted, Writing

October 24, 2014

Pop – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

By Nina D'Arcangela

Pop

With a growl that comes from deep within his chest, fury radiating from every pore of his being, he begins to froth. Using the chain wrapped around his arm and her throat, he raises her level with his eye. With the other hand, he snaps her right wrist between his forefinger and thumb. A slight groan escapes her before she can contain it. A smile begins to spread upon his face.

Cupping her ass with his free hand, he presses her body hard against his own, his want throbbing against her. He leans forward, whispers in her ear, “So you do feel. I’ve heard an angel is an extremely… erotic creature. Perhaps I have been going about your discipline all wrong.” He slowly licks her shoulder, her neck, the side of her face; he begins to boom with laughter – intent all too clear in his eyes.

She returns his slight smile as he runs a razor-sharp talon over her lips, tearing them to shreds. Blood begins to trickle down her chin; he laps it clean. She unfurls an obsidian wing; he stares at it in wanton lust. With lightning speed, she uses the tip to pluck his left eyeball from its socket. There is barely a moment of resistance as the muscles cling to the orbit before tearing away.

Screaming in agony, he releases her and she tumbles to the stone floor. Cupping his empty socket, he screams, “You whore!”

Lying on the floor, she begins laughing manically.

“You fucking whore! I’ll see you dead for this!”

Gently, she places the eyeball in her mouth, blood still oozing from her slashed lips. Through peals of laughter, she positions her new prize between her teeth. As he watches in horror, she smiles brightly and begins to chew.

Darting forward once more, her wing tip slams into his other eye with an audible pop, then carves it lengthwise with a single stroke. She leaves this orb in place to heal useless and deformed; a reminder of her for the days to come.

Rising to her feet, she walks toward the dais while flippantly asking, “You wish to see me dead, do you?” With a mirthless chuckle, she leans in and whispers, “I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of anything…”

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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

27 Comments | tags: Coffin Hop 2014, CoffinHop, fiction, horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pop, story, writing | posted in ADULT, Author, Coffin Hop 2014, Flash Fiction, Horror, Story, twisted, Writing

December 11, 2013

Slivers

By Nina D'Arcangela

Slivers, that’s all I ever saw – it peered through the crack of a door that didn’t seat in its jam; between window and sash where the slightest breeze blew; below floorboards that had shrunken, leaving the barest opening. Slivers, as it watched and waited. For what, I dared not imagine in my waking hours, though I’d suspect it was for my guard to falter.

Closeting myself in a fully sealed room with no chinks each night, I allowed myself sleep when it would come. My dreams invaded by visions of that godless eye. It stared at me relentlessly, the light absorbed by its depth-less void; a lie of beauty hidden among the allure of its iridescent skin. But I knew far better than to be fooled by its camouflage. Looking into that eye, I could see what it promised – it promised pain, it promised torture, it promised an end that would not come swiftly or easily. Worse yet than the uncaring, unfeeling eye were the endless rows of teeth. They glistened, dripped with saliva. Translucent and viciously pointed; some jutted straight upward to pierce and stab, others curved backward toward its bulbous throat, insuring that once it had snagged its prey, there would be no escape. Teeth designed for ripping, tearing, rending chunks of flesh from bone to be swallowed whole. A gruesome death awaited any that it caught. I did not wish to die that way.

Perhaps worst of all were the moments sleep did not come in my tiny sanctuary. I’d crouch listening as it scratched at the walls, the floor, the ceiling above me. It knew where I hid; it was only a matter of time before it breached my woeful defenses. This we both knew, but still I longed to live just one more day…

17 Comments | tags: fiction, flash, Nina D'Arcangela, Slivers | posted in Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, Quirky

October 30, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Blink

By Nina D'Arcangela

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.

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!

26 Comments | tags: 2013, attic, Blink, Coffin Hop, creature, fiction, flash, giveaway, horror, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, Prizes, Quirky, twisted

October 29, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Love

By Nina D'Arcangela

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.

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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!

24 Comments | tags: 2013, abuse, Coffin Hop, fiction, flash, giveaway, horror, love, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, pain, twisted

October 28, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Devotion

By Nina D'Arcangela

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.”

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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!

22 Comments | tags: 2013, Coffin Hop, Devotion, fiction, flash, giveaway, horror, insanity, love, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, Prizes, Quirky, twisted

October 27, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Scratching

By Nina D'Arcangela

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, we 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.

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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!

22 Comments | tags: 2013, beast, Coffin Hop, creature, fiction, flash, giveaway, horror, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, Scratching | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, the beast, twisted

October 26, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Burning

By Nina D'Arcangela

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.

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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!

31 Comments | tags: 2013, Burning, Coffin Hop, fiction, flash, give away, horror, loss, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, pain, twisted | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, twisted

October 25, 2013

Coffin Hop 2013 ~ Rage

By Nina D'Arcangela

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.

Coffin Hop Goodies!

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!