Tag Archives: flash

October 26, 2013

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.

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!

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!

26 Comments | tags: 2013, Coffin Hop, creature, entity, fiction, flash, give away, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, rage | posted in Coffin Hop 2013, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, pain, Quirky, twisted

October 3, 2013

Leeds

By Nina D'Arcangela

Feet pounding as fast as they can, I tear across the hard-packed ground. Tree branches slap my arms, scrape my face, tangle in my hair; I don’t think I’m gonna make it. I hear it chasing me, not quite on my heels yet, but close enough to make my skin want to crawl clean off my bones. At any moment, I expect to be snatched from the trail by god-knows-what kind of clawed hand. The thing is so near I can smell its stench. It’s enough to make me gag: make my eyes water and my nostrils burn. I set out to find it, to track it – to prove its existence. What a fool. I was never tracking it; it was tracking me the entire time.

If I can make it to the water, everything will be all right – that’s what all the stories say. Make it to that deep blue pool buried in the Pines and for some reason, the creature won’t come any closer.

I can’t be too far from the lake. Christ – I must have trekked thirty miles into the dense Barrens since leaving the road. It’s got to be around here somewhere; I’m right where the locals said the water would be. But there was something not quite right about the way those ‘Pineys’ were smiling…

My foot tangles in an exposed root where the dirt loosens and turns to a softer, sandier mixture. In near panic, I almost go down but somehow manage to keep my feet beneath me. The forest is thinning out quickly; I can see a much brighter patch ahead.

A guttural roar sounds from behind; it’s nearly on top of me. I can feel the air shift to the side as my eye catches sight of something black whipping by just off to the right. I scream – no sound comes out – but I don’t stop moving. Before I know it, the trees clear and I stumble onto a small beach.

I can see the water and whisper a silent prayer of thanks to those hicks who somehow managed to get me here. Flinging myself down at the water’s edge, I finally dare to look behind me. I can’t see it clearly, but I can feel it standing just under the dense canopy of the trees – hiding in the darkness.

Dunking my head into the cool water, I laugh when I realize what I’m holding. The entire time I was running, I was clutching my cell phone, but lost everything else. Can you hear me now? No! More hysterical laughter; the sound desperate even to my own ears. There’s no cell service out here. I can’t believe that in my panic the only thing I managed to save is this useless piece of crap. One last look at it and I hurl it as far as I can across the lake.

Leaning down again, I taste the water. At first barely a sip to make sure it’s safe, then small handfuls to quench my thirst. Making myself stop, I roll over and stare at the sun like it’s my new found savior. The Pines are so dense; this small clearing is a godsend. I can still hear the thing rustling in the trees, but for now, next to the water, I’m safe.

I must have drifted off from exhaustion, maybe simple relief, I don’t know. When I wake, the sun is low and dim shadows have crept half-way across the small beach. I can hear it breathing and pacing in the brush. A spike of adrenaline slashes through me and I dive for the only hope I see; one long bow from a white cedar growing out over the lake. Scrambling to it, I climb as far out as I can, shimmying backward the whole while. From what I know of the Blue Hole, the water is deep as hell. Drowning is no better an option than feeding myself to Mother Leeds’ thirteenth son, and I would prefer to do neither.

As full night falls, I can see its red eyes glaring at me, along with the shadowy impression of a dark, winged figure. Its tail flicking from side to side accompanies the sound of tree branches being torn apart. Bellying down further onto the limb, I try for a little more distance. I know my chances of surviving the night are slim… Still, if I can keep my balance and stay awake, I might just make it until morning.

I hear a faint splash, and a responding roar from the woods – almost a challenge. Terrified to take my eyes off the beast before me, but more afraid of what lurks below, I chance a glance downward. Elongated, translucent hands reaching from the depths are all I see before I’m yanked from my perch, screaming for help that’s never going to come.

***

“Howdy there, Bob, Tomas,” the deputy says as he steps from his vehicle to greet the two men sitting outside the small shack that serves as a convenience store in this area of the Pine Barrens.

“Mornin’ officer,” they reply in kind. “What can we do you for?”

“Well, seems we found a car, one of those German import types, parked a ways down the road in one of the pull-offs. Little yellow thing called a Jetta. You boys know anything about that?”

Looking at each other, Tomas spits and says, “Might be we do. Some young girl in a yeller car stopped in here yesterday asking for directions to the hole. Could be it’s the same car.”

“Tell me you didn’t give them to her, did you?” exasperation plain in the officer’s voice.

“Might be we did. Don’t see why we wouldn’t if she asked,” Bob answers rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

The deputy reaches into his vehicle and grabs the radio handset. “Dispatch, we’re gonna need a tow out on Rt. 532. It’s a yellow Jetta – can’t miss it. Hang on just a sec.” He releases the com button. “Boys, she have anyone else with her?”

“Nope, but she had a crap load ‘a gear in the back seat of that foreign auto-mobile of hers.”

Clicking the mic back on, the deputy relays, “Dispatch, I’m gonna need a team on the ground looking for a backpack, tent, cell phone – any personal items they can find heading from that location toward the hole. Better make it a wide sweep, call all the guys in on this.”

“Copy that, Tim. Do we need a rescue team down there too?” the dispatcher asks with hope and concern in her voice.

Looking over the roof of his car at Bob and Tomas, seeing the grin on both of their faces, he answers, “Negative on the rescue team, just the cleanup crew and the tow.” Getting back in the car and replacing the now silent handset, the deputy tips his hat to the men on the bench as they nod in return. He puts the car in drive, and mutters to himself “Fucking city folk,” as he drives off.

20 Comments | tags: Blue Hole, flash, Jersey Devil, Jersey Pine Barrens, Leeds, Nina D'Arcangela, Pineys, Sirens Call Publications, The Sirens Call | posted in Flash Fiction, Horror, Sirens Call Publications

April 9, 2013

Hard

By Nina D'Arcangela

I sit here sipping from my glass, a fine glass at that; delicate in nature, with spinning hues of barest midnight blue drawn through its perfect surface, creating an undulating wave of confused beauty. Beauty; I look at the cavern around me, the carved seat I rest upon, my enclave, my domain, my perfect world. Things of beauty surround me, but only at my beck and call. True, some have come crawling, but I find I’ve no use for such sniveling. They – are no longer amongst us. Is there not a creature worthy of my attentiveness? Ordering one of the grovlings to fetch me a new pet, I wait with little patience.

Finally, she is brought before me. “Kneel.” There is no question she will do as instructed, they all do. I toss a collar onto the floor, it is attached to a leash fastened to the arm of my perch. “Put it on.” She begins to speak.

“I do not recall telling you to open your lips. Put it on, and do so with your mouth shut!” She scrambles to do as ordered, but the idiot grovling has yet to release her from the crude looped choker used to drag her here. A glance at the grovling and he realizes his folly. He apologizes profusely, trying to loosen the choker as she desperately tries to fasten the collar around her bleeding neck with shaking hands. I let him babble, his stupidity is quite amusing, then I bore of hearing it. Standing, I descend the two steps that separate myself from the others. She shivers uncontrollably as I pass by. He drops to a knee while still begging forgiveness for his lack of foresight. Foolish, that. The assumption that he’s been given the right to foreshadow my thoughts or wishes, a mistake I would not have made had I been in his position. Crouching in front of him, my wing tips curling against the stone floor, I order him to lift his chin. As he does so, he pisses himself. Glancing down to the puddle growing beneath him, I gently tap the edge of the glass against the floor. It fractures magnificently.

“Do you recall when this glass was made for me, grovling?” Desperately, he tries to hold my eye, but cannot. His own orbs flick quickly to the glass, I smile. He opens his mouth to respond and I shush him with a gentle, garnet adorned finger upon his lips. “My question did not require an answer, or did your foresight fail you yet again?” Trembling with indecision, he is unsure if a response is expected. I’m of the opinion it is not, but I’ll allow his inner torment to continue a bit longer. The jingling to my right finally stops; she has managed to fasten the collar around her neck. I hear a slight tinkling, the metal chain leading from the collar back to the leashed handle affixed to my seat; she is frightened, but doing admirably well – so far.

Waiting is the sweetest torture, one my many eons in this festering shit hole has taught me well how to exploit. The grovling on the other hand, is finding the wait – arduous. I can sense his overwhelming desire to speak; I can see the thoughts flick through his feeble little mind. Dragging the now jagged edge of the glass through his own urine, I provoke him. “It must be so difficult kneeling before me, wanting to speak your mind, but knowing you probably should not. I almost feel compassion for you, honestly, I almost do. Was being obedient and keeping your mouth shut so very hard that you simply found yourself incapable of the task?” His lips part, bait taken. If I were a sport fisherman, this is the point at which I would yank the line, one quick hard pull to set my hook. In what is a blink in his world, I ram the piss covered broken glass through his eye socket clean into his brain cavity. The ickor that oozes into the glass is proof enough that his brief squeal will be his final utterance.

I turn to the captive beside me, realizing that the grovling’s piss has spread to her knees. Retrieving the handle of the leash, I gently guide her to the hot spring welling in the far corner of the cavern. “Come, let’s clean you, then we shall figure out what purpose you might serve.”

(…more on this piece as other letters crop up…)

I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

17 Comments | tags: A to Z Challenge, Angel, Dark Angel, fiction, flash, H, Hard, horror, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, pain, pet, power, slave, Sotet Angyal | posted in 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge, darkness, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror

April 8, 2013

Grave

By Nina D'Arcangela

I sit before your grave and mourn you, or perhaps I mourn for me. The light that was stolen from my life is unjust, leaving behind a harsh glare where once there was a gentle glow. I still feel your touch, your hand gently caressing my face as it slowly slides into my hair, cupping the back of my head. I feel my eyes flutter shut as you gently glide my lips toward yours. A final remembered glance of your amber tinted eyes as your deliciously long lashes flutter shut as well. My hand falls, not to rest on your soft, warm thigh, but upon this cold stone monument. Jarred from my revere, my tear moistened eyes open to see not your liquid eyes looking back, but the hard edifice that now entombs all that you were. If there had been one final moment, what would we have done; what would we have said; would you have allowed me to come with you? Is what was shared between us enough to carry me though another day in this world while you exist in another?

I sit before your grave and mourn you, or perhaps I mourn for me. The light that was stolen from my life is unjust, leaving behind a harsh glare that blinds me to all the beauty you once revealed. Perhaps I will lay my head down and rest with you one last time. The snow my cushion, my memories the only warmth I need on this cold, heartless night.

I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

12 Comments | tags: A to Z Challenge, fiction, flash, G, Grave, grief, longing, loss, love, muse, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, pain | posted in 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, loss, pain

April 6, 2013

Fjord

By Nina D'Arcangela

“A-ha! There! Do you see it before us, brother? I told you the gods would see us safely home, was I not right?”

“Be at ease, young brother, we are not home yet. We’ve still to traverse her icy cold waters, and narrower passageways.”

“Bah, you’ve no faith, my brother! The gods would not have brought us this far to see us fail now. Perhaps the trickster, but not the hammer, he wishes to see us die in battle. Come, brother, do not tell me you fear drowning more than death by axe or cudgel? Smile, fate and life lay ahead, our journey nearly complete.” Pouring two horns of mead, he offers the fermented honey concoction to the man standing beside him. “Drink, celebrate with me; celebrate our return to this, our homeland!”

Glancing into the carved keratin vessel his younger brother has handed him, and back again to the high cliff walls of the fjord, he steps to the side of the boat and pours the mead into the waters below.

“Brother! You waste so much when we have so little left after this voyage? Why?”

“Do not question my actions, little brother. An offering to the gods is of far greater value than sating my thirst for celebration. I offer them this drink and ask that with it they grant us safe passage through these cliffs. Honor them as I do. Honor them or we shall all suffer. Heed my words, young brother, your youth blinds you.”

“Bah,” the younger man drains his horn into his gullet and tosses the hollowed carving overboard. “The gods have no use for sentimental offerings. They want us to live as men, as warriors, not as scared sheep!”

The sky now darkening, clouds swiftly rolling in. Their boat caught in the unsteady waters of the fjord, the younger man looks dubiously upward as the crew grumbles of bad omens. The older brother stares at the younger, resigned to what fate has cast upon them as the waters begin to froth and the wind picks up speed.

I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

32 Comments | tags: A to Z Challenge, brother, F, fiction, Fjord, flash, loss, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, ship, Viking | posted in 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction

April 5, 2013

Egret

By Nina D'Arcangela

Crisp snowy white and regal, you move with a fluidity that shames most creatures. Long, needle-like beak, a brilliant hue of yellow, used to pluck small fish and amphibious morsels from the waters you feast upon. Still you stand, almost statuesque, waiting for opportunity. A splendid creature, moving meticulously through your real… But to see you spread your wings and take flight, the grandeur of such a sight makes you nothing less than queen of your domain. Soaring close above the water’s surface, your reflection ripples with equal beauty.

Mating season arrives, your brilliant verdant plumes draw them, they flock to you. Eight, ten, perhaps twelve suitors this season. They sit amongst the trees waiting for you to choose. A prize chosen, you dance together on the air, you lead, he follows. You perch among the foliage, building together, creating together, but now that the creation is complete, he leaves. In your nest you wait, you birth, you rear. The smaller of the young lost to the larger, yet still they are yours to accept. Youth does not always grant grace, but in time, it will come.

You, the Egret queen, soar magnificently over the waters, and stalk this pond upon foot with serene patients as the others watch with jealous pride.

I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

12 Comments | tags: A to Z Challenge, bird, E, Egret, flash, flash fiction, flight, majectic, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela | posted in 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, muse

April 2, 2013

Breath

By Nina D'Arcangela

The screaming, the screeching, the un-godly wailing that echoes down the hall – it’s deafening. Splashing hot coffee onto my shaking hand, I howl in pain, adding my minor wound to your egregious suffering. The scorching brown fluid beads upon my skin. The hours, they seem to never cease, passing by slower than time should allow. Will this night never end? Your breathing harsh and ragged, my fear beyond measure. Should there be this much blood? My expectation was of a few difficult moments, sweat dripping, faces smiling… but the screaming, the agony – no one told me of these things. If I had known, I would never have let him touch you. I would never have agreed to this – the price too high. Dragging myself through the hall, fighting the buffeting waves of fresh torment tearing from your body, I arrive at the room once more, just as the screaming ceases, just as the tears begin to flow, just as the wail erupts. A first breath taken, the beginning of what will forever be our new life.

I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

12 Comments | tags: A to Z Challenge, agony, birth, Breath, fiction, flash, Nina D, Nina D'Arcangela, pain, screaming | posted in 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction

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 ;}

8 Comments | tags: Betrayed, Brass, Cheated, Comparitive Flash, eZine, Fingers, flash, Flash Fic, SCP, Sirens Call Publications, The Sirens Call, The Slip, Thief | posted in Flash Fiction, muse, Quirky, Sirens Call Publications, The Sirens Call eZine

May 6, 2012

Trust

By Nina D'Arcangela

I crouch cowering in the shadows of the barn. I should not be here. I was asked to stay away, yet I could not.

The unnatural sound of bones snapping, sinew tearing, and skin stretching is a thing so foreign that it rends my soul to shreds as I witness it, yet for all the breath left in me, I can not turn away from this creature I see.

I should have respected his wishes and not intruded upon his privacy – one that he has guarded so warily till this day. Trust is what I offered blindly for so long; now I see that my trust was both justly placed and unspeakably abused.

The depth of sorrow that emanates from the eyes that I have so often peered into is more than I can bear. I know now why he asked to own this anguish in solitude; I know now why he felt a need to protect me from the torture of his full nature; I know now the extent to which he wished to guard me.

He suffers more pain, my heart weeps. I reach out to touch him, he begs me to stay away with his agonizing gaze – so longing, so loving… so final.

Struck by a rising terror I’ve not felt before, my mind screams that he is no longer mine but belongs solely to the night. If only I had not violated our trust, we would have been as one forever.

Fully morphed he stands before me, yet I still see only him. He turns one final time – his eyes saying all his misshapen mouth is no longer capable of speaking.

A blink; he is gone.

Rushing forward I see all that remains of him torn and twisted upon a nail while I listen to his baleful cry carried upon the night’s harsh wind.