It began as a little pool of darkness in the corner of my office. At first, I thought it was merely a shadow like all the others, cast by the door or my chair or the leaf stuck to the outside of my window by a spider’s web. As the light shifted from morning to … Continue reading The Darkness
Tag: Short Horror
Christa
Christa’s parents never returned home, and the police were never able to tell her, for certain, what had happened to them. They could only tell her three things: that it was her father’s blood, in the basement; that her mother had held the knife she had found on the kitchen floor; and that her parents … Continue reading Christa
The Mask, Continued
After The Mask received some positive feedback, I decided to give it a continuation. Enjoy. She is dissatisfied. She has been for years, but previously, it has been a sort of comfortable dissatisfaction: unpleasant, yet familiar, and therefore less uncomfortable than perhaps it should have been. Her life up to this point has been bland and flavorless. … Continue reading The Mask, Continued
The Mask
His hands are driven by the fervor of obsession. It is the same unrelenting force that drives a drug addict to push the needle into his flesh and a gambler to hemorrhage her funds on the chance that he might, someday, see some benefit. It’s the same toxic pressure that forces an obsessive-compulsive to repeat … Continue reading The Mask
Camille, Pt. 3
Camille, Pt. 1 Camille, Pt. 2 Camille began to walk. She squinted up toward the canopy, trying to get her eyes to focus well enough on the trees high above her to discern her orientation. The world looked so different from this angle. All she had was the border between clearing and wood to try … Continue reading Camille, Pt. 3
Ink: Epilogue
He loves her. He has to: she holds his heart in her hands. What can he do but love a woman who cups his still-beating heart so gratefully, so lovingly? He can see that she cares for it. He can feel that she does. She has stopped crying, leaving only the stains of her tears … Continue reading Ink: Epilogue
Ink, Part 2
The gleaming aura that surrounded Chester’s new house faded last night as he reclined, on his back, in his bed. He stared at the ceiling which, painted a bone-white, almost seemed to stare back at him. In the night-dark of his first half-hour staring at that ceiling, still awake, it gains the sense of depthless … Continue reading Ink, Part 2
The Other Kids
My mother used to walk to school when she was in elementary. I would never let my kids do that, not these days, but her mom thought it was safe. At first. My mom didn’t let me walk to school, either, but for completely different reasons. I asked her why, in elementary school, and all … Continue reading The Other Kids
Daydreams 