It was a particularly cold night. Rebecca pulled the old dirty blanket tightly around her shoulders, wishing she had enough coins for a hit. Just one hit, and she'd make it though the darkest hours of this ice cold winter night. But Rebecca didn't have enough change. There weren't as many people out on the streets on a snowy night like this. It wasn't very often that she had to ride it out sober, but on the nights that she did, she suffered badly. Not as much from the withdrawal, but from the cold, the hunger, and worst of all, the loneliness. Too scared to fall asleep in fear of being attacked or freezing to death, she'd lie in her corner, shivering and thinking, all night long. Thinking about the events in life that got her to this point, thinking about all the awful things she'd done to survive. Counting every horrible thing that had happened to her so that she could justify to herself why she was where she is today. It was nights like these where by sunrise, she felt so lonely and empty inside, that she wished the cold had taken her.
Rebecca was just 12 years old when she first found herself on the street. Her mother had been beaten to death by her stepfather. Her stepfather had been taken to prison. The welfare system missed her completely. She'd been sitting in that old apartment for a week when the landlord threw her out because he had new tenants for the place. When she first stepped out, she was frightened, she didn't know the first thing about responsibility. But by nightfall, a lovely lady named Angel took Rebecca under her wing. Angel gave Rebecca a new name, a hit and then sent her straight into some old man's car. He looked like he could have been about 50 and from the wealthier part of town. It wasn't the hit, that enabled Rebecca to do her job that night. It wasn't the fact that she was too young and didn't understand what was going on - she knew all too well. It wasn't the fact that she'd seen daddy abuse mommy or that she was out on the street and needed to find a way to survive. You see, Rebecca was used to entertaining older men; she'd been doing it for as long as she could recall. They'd come into the apartment, and Rebecca's stepfather would charge them by the hour. Hell, Rebecca's stepfather would help himself most nights too. So you see, not much different happened there that night, other than the fact that this time, Rebecca got a hit. Yes, it was the escape she'd been dreaming of, and that night, an addict was born.
The cold had gotten into Rebecca's bones. She reluctantly got up to go find some newspaper or something, anything to keep the cold out. She hobbled along to the nearest bench, some kid was out cold - "lucky sod", she thought to herself. She grabbed the newspaper he'd been hiding under, and hobbled back over to her corner. As she sank back into position, her mind went back to better days:
In Rebecca's teenage years, every man had wanted a piece of her. At one stage, she felt like the highest paid prostitute in the city. She reminded herself that she wasn't used to much in life so anything at all made her feel like a millionaire. There was this wealthy business man that used to call on her every Friday night. He was young and good looking, unlike just about every other customer she had. He'd say nice things to her, buy her nice clothes, and once in a while even take her out to dinner. She'd fantasize about him asking her hand in marriage, moving into his house, driving his car, having his children, and most of all, spending Christmas with his family. But naturally, none of that ever happened. He stopped coming, he found a new toy; someone younger, prettier. The night she found out, she tried to OD. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She woke up on the street, naked and covered in her own vomit. Nobody wanted a useless prostitute covered in vomit at the PleasureHouse. What would customers think? And what if she had died there? That wouldn't do well for business now would it?
But that was many years ago. Today Rebecca sat on the street, huddled up against the back of a busy restaurant, waiting for the scraps to be thrown out, aged and weathered. She'd lost a foot too. Silly little cut it had been; caused an infection that she didn't have the money to treat. When she became so ill that she found herself on death’s door, the state hospital amputated the problem. Again, the universe had been cruel and had spared her life.
It was then that a special feeling came over Rebecca. At first, she couldn't identify it. She had never felt it before. She didn't know if it was physical or if it was an emotion. And then it hit her - it was peace, calm. Something was happening, and it made her feel even better than any hit she'd ever taken before. The cold started to fade and a numbness came over, yet somehow, it warmed her chest. Her eyelids started to hang heavy and her breathing started to slow. Rebecca knew her night had finally come, and unlike she had anticipated, here she was, fearless, welcoming the nothingness that lay ahead. The ULTIMATE nothingness. "Oh, you finally show me mercy my Lord" - and with that final thought, Rebecca released her final breath. Just then, the boy on the bench had woken from the cold. His trip had run out, or so he thought, when he looked up and saw a man in a shredded outfit and no shoes. He had long white beard; the kind you only see in fantasy movies on wise wizards. But what really struck the boy, was a set of magnificent angelic wings that stretched out far into the street. He was standing with Rebecca, hand in hand. "Are you ready?" the man asked. "I've been ready for a long time my Lord" Rebecca answered "then let's get you home, there's a hot meal and a warm bed waiting for you" Rebecca felt the hot tears stream down her cheeks, “how am I worthy?" she asked, “who is worthy, if not all my children?" the Lord answered.
Wednesday 25 June 2014
Sunday 15 June 2014
The old house - Short story #4
The taxi pulled into the driveway, she had finally arrived. It had been a long trip, travelling all the way from the Cape to Natal. Trafalgar seemed like a small overgrown little area. Fey hadn't seen this house since she was a little child, but she remembered it well. Her oupa had built this house with his own two hands. This was the house mom had grown up in. From the front, it looked like a relatively small house with a small front garden, like every other house in this street, but it was in fact built on a natural embankment - this area is full of ups and downs - so the house was actually a 4 story building, with a back yard that stretched out all the way to a crocodile infested swamp. Fey remembered that the top floor, the one seen from the street, was the only one she'd ever seen. There was a gate where the stairwell led down, that prevented anyone from accessing the other floors. Not even ouma went down there. Fey remembered looking down the dark stairwell - after the gate the rest of the stairwell was pretty much consumed by darkness - in between the mountain of crap piled up all the way to the gate, was an old mannequin. It was missing it's arms, it's face was in a poor state and it was leaning up against the gate with it's head pressed up against the bars. As a child, that image alone kept Fey far away from the staircase.
Fey got out the taxi, grabbed her bag, and paid the driver. She walked right through, the front gate had rusted so badly that it was stuck and couldn't be closed. As she approached the front door, she noticed that the windows were broken, the burglar gate was off it's hinges, and the wooden door as well as the wooden shutters were rotting. It looked pretty creepy, but oupa had passed away after many years in an old-age home and mom was sick, so she had to come and assess the damage, so that they knew if it was worth trying to fix up. As soon as Fey stepped in, she knew, she should have booked herself into a hotel, but it was too late now. This place was going to be impossible to live in. She'd have to find out about a b&b tomorrow.
After she had put her bag down in the guest room, she decided to take a quick look around. There was a long passageway that went right through the house. There were a few doors on either side, almost like what you could expect to see if you were staying in a hotel. On the right hand side, there were 3 doors. Two of them lead to a guest bedroom, and the last one, right at the end, lead to a little reception area, which had two more doors, one that lead to a shower - strange, but that's how oupa built the house - and another that lead to the bathroom, which had a bath, toilet and basin. She remembered that there was an old child mannequin in the shower, and how much it used to scare her, so she didn't even bother looking there, but she opened the door to the bathroom. Inside, she saw the old barbies ouma had used to make toilet-roll holders with, and soap bottle holders. They consisted of the upper torso of a barbie, put into a dress knitted in such a fashion that it looked like a ballroom gown, where the bottom half had a space to fit a toilet roll or bottle in. By now the babies looked like they had been through world war 3. They were hanging in their dresses, filthy and half eaten away by rats. The bathroom tiles were broken. The bath was filthy. Fey opened the basin tap. It made a gargling sound, and then brown water came shooting out, spitting all over the place and into Fey's face. She stepped back wiping her face off with her sleeve and spitting the disgusting old water out. This was going to be fun.
Fey stepped back into the passage. This time standing on the opposite side, she once again analyzed the doors on the right. There were 3 doors again and a door right at the end of the passageway. She knew the door at the end led to the living room, the same room she'd seen when she first entered the house. The first door on the right led to the main bedroom. She remembered it as a large bedroom, with large windows that overlooked the back yard and swamp. It also had it's on ensuite bathroom. The 2nd door led to a room she'd never been in. It was always looked up and ouma kept the key. The 3rd door led into an area where the dark stairwell was on the right, another door to the kitchen was on the left, and then the rest of the area was open, like a big empty room. Her grandparents kept huge cages in this area with cockatiels that would sing Jan Pierewiet every morning. At the end was another door to the right, which led to the main bedroom again, and another door on the left that led to a storage area for ouma's needlework - she made creepy dolls with left over doll parts that oupa would bring home from the junk yard and scraps of material that was left from the huge church dresses she would make for extra money.
Fey decided the check the second door, since she'd never seen what was in that room before. She pulled the handle down and pushed - it was locked. How disappointing. She decided to check the 3rd door. To her surprise, the stairwell gate was wide open. The mannequin was still there, along with all kinds of other junk, and yes, it was still pitch black. Fey couldn't contain herself, and decided to go down. She stepped down the first flight of stairs, and then stood face to face with the dark at the gate. She pulled out the torch she'd brought with and turned it on. She shined it into the black area. It was so full of junk that she couldn't really make out what the area was for. It looked like a storage space of some sort. She stepped forward, there was web and rat poop everywhere. Her heart started to beat a little faster, she didn't know what she would find in here. As she progressed through the little passages made through the piles of junk, she noticed another stairwell that leads further down. She had to climb over piles of old newspapers to get to it. Fey put the torch down on the newspapers, placed both her palms flat down onto the pile, and pulled herself up. She heard scattering, but was too scared to look, she knew it would be rats and cockroaches, and she didn't want to see them. She twisted herself around and leaned her left foot down, searching for the floor. Fey let out a sharp scream; she had stood on something soft and squishy and couldn't help picturing a dead homeless man decomposing between all this garbage - it sure smelt like a possibility, which she'd previously dismissed as dead rats and cats. She grabbed the torch and jumped back, to get away from the potential dead body and tripped over something hard, she fell back and started to roll down the stairs.
Fey groaned, as she attempted to get up, she had hurt her leg in the fall. She'd also hit her head and she wasn't sure if she'd lost consciousness or not, and if so, for how long. It was even darker down here, if that's even possible. She grabbed her torch, which was still on and shined it around. The wooden floor was rotting away, parts of the floor was missing completely. There was a couch in the distance, with a coffee table and a TV unit - no TV, was probably stolen. She figured that this floor was some sort of man cave for her oupa. She decided that it was too risky to look around, she'd have to go back up and face what ever was rotting in the darkness upstairs - it was big, too big to be an animal and the idea frightened her to death. Fey tried to stand up, but a sharp pain shot through her injured leg, and she collapsed backwards, landing smack bang on the rotting floor, which instantly gave way. In that split second, Fey knew she would not survive this fall, she was going to land on the bottom floor which was sure to have a cement base and she'd snap her neck for sure. Fey hit the ground, but to her surprise, it wasn't that hard. Her leg hurt, but other than that, she seemed to be okay. Fey felt around, and realised that she had fallen on a mattress. Her torch had come down with her, but it had bounced off the mattress and rolled over to the other side of the room. She'd need to get up to go fetch it so that she could see her surroundings. Fey was gathering the courage to get up on that injured leg, when something grabbed her attention; the faintly lit area that the torch was shining on. It was a brick face wall, with huge metal chains and cuffs dangling from the ceiling.
Fey's heart pounded in her throat. What the hell? She couldn't see much but immediately figured that she was in a torture chamber of some sort. Who was her oupa? What did he do here? She couldn't get up right away, so she got on all fours and crawled toward the torch. The floor was cement, as she'd expected, and she was very lucky to land on the mattress. The cement was cold and hard. The floor was sticky and damp, with small sharp objects scattered across, probably stones. Fey grabbed the torch and had a quick look around. The batteries were dying and this level was dark! She was searching for a stairwell. Shining the light from the left and slowly making her way to her right, she spotted more chains bolted to the floor with cuffs at the end. The mattress was in the corner, and standing all alone, was a single chair in the middle of the floor and then there it was, the stairwell, but then Fey suddenly spotted somebody on the chair, she shined the light back on the chair and this time, there was a little white piece of material draped over the seat. She figured she'd seen a little girl, no more than 7 years old and assumed that the white piece of material that she was looking at must have been the little white dress she thought she saw the little girl wearing. Fey was petrified. She started to crawl toward the stairwell. When she got to the first step, she realised that she was going to suck up the pain if she wanted to get out of here. As she climbed on the first step, she heard something. She'd been shuffling and groaning and the sound of her weight on the wooden step had caused the wood to creek, so she stopped, trying to breathe as softly as possible so that she could listen carefully - had she heard something? And then there it was, a soft, muffled voice of a child; "Don't go".
Fey's heart stopped. She had heard that voice very clearly, but she knew that it was impossible for anyone to be down here. Her instinct told her to ignore it and get out NOW, she bit her lip and started to crawl up the stairs with meaning, when she felt something grab her injured leg... She screamed so loud that she thought her own eardrums would burst. She looked back and saw decomposed hand latched around her ankle, it was coming from underneath the stairs. She started to scream "LET GO, LET GO" and shined the torch up the stairs, looking to see how far she need to climb still to get out of this basement, when she saw the gate. "SHIT". She was locked in. Suddenly Fey fell forward. She'd been released. She practically ran up the stairs to the gate, forgetting all about her sore leg - it wasn't that big a deal anymore in comparison to the situation - she shook the gate, it was locked and she wasn't going to get out this way. Fey sank down to the step and started to cry. The sound of Fey's sobs filled the air. Soon, the sound of another woman's sob started to join in and then another. Soon Fey's sobs were drowned out by the sound of a dozen women all sobbing. Fey looked down the stairs and in the dark, could see beaten battered women, all sitting on the stairs, reaching for the gate, crying for help - like her, they too were trapped. Fey closed her eyes and shut herself up. It was quiet. She looked down again and the stairway was clear. She picked up the torch and shined it down the stairs and at the bottom was a group of mannequins all standing in the basement facing the stairwell. Fey wet herself, she couldn't contain her fear. She heard the sound of a key in the gate, she turned her head to see who was there. "Ouma?"
"You fucking little whore. Did he really think I wouldn't find you here?" "No ouma, please, it's me, please help me" Fey knew it was pointless to plead for help. This wasn't ouma. Ouma died when she was 12. This looked like ouma, but this thing had an evil look in it's eye, and when it spoke, it did so with the voice of a demon. Ouma lifted her right hand over her head; she was holding a kitchen knife. She thrusted the knife into Fey's back, Fey screamed in pain and fear. Ouma stabbed again, and again, and again, till Fey's lifeless body was laying on the stairs, her warm blood dripping through the rotten wood and softly tapping the basement floor beneath. Ouma turned around and vanished into the darkness.
Fey stood in the corner of the dark basement. She stood there next to countless other women and children, all dripping in blood, watching the gate, waiting. Waiting for the gate to open. Waiting for oupa to come, come see what ouma has done. Come let us out, just our lifeless bodies, so that we may find rest.
Fey got out the taxi, grabbed her bag, and paid the driver. She walked right through, the front gate had rusted so badly that it was stuck and couldn't be closed. As she approached the front door, she noticed that the windows were broken, the burglar gate was off it's hinges, and the wooden door as well as the wooden shutters were rotting. It looked pretty creepy, but oupa had passed away after many years in an old-age home and mom was sick, so she had to come and assess the damage, so that they knew if it was worth trying to fix up. As soon as Fey stepped in, she knew, she should have booked herself into a hotel, but it was too late now. This place was going to be impossible to live in. She'd have to find out about a b&b tomorrow.
After she had put her bag down in the guest room, she decided to take a quick look around. There was a long passageway that went right through the house. There were a few doors on either side, almost like what you could expect to see if you were staying in a hotel. On the right hand side, there were 3 doors. Two of them lead to a guest bedroom, and the last one, right at the end, lead to a little reception area, which had two more doors, one that lead to a shower - strange, but that's how oupa built the house - and another that lead to the bathroom, which had a bath, toilet and basin. She remembered that there was an old child mannequin in the shower, and how much it used to scare her, so she didn't even bother looking there, but she opened the door to the bathroom. Inside, she saw the old barbies ouma had used to make toilet-roll holders with, and soap bottle holders. They consisted of the upper torso of a barbie, put into a dress knitted in such a fashion that it looked like a ballroom gown, where the bottom half had a space to fit a toilet roll or bottle in. By now the babies looked like they had been through world war 3. They were hanging in their dresses, filthy and half eaten away by rats. The bathroom tiles were broken. The bath was filthy. Fey opened the basin tap. It made a gargling sound, and then brown water came shooting out, spitting all over the place and into Fey's face. She stepped back wiping her face off with her sleeve and spitting the disgusting old water out. This was going to be fun.
Fey stepped back into the passage. This time standing on the opposite side, she once again analyzed the doors on the right. There were 3 doors again and a door right at the end of the passageway. She knew the door at the end led to the living room, the same room she'd seen when she first entered the house. The first door on the right led to the main bedroom. She remembered it as a large bedroom, with large windows that overlooked the back yard and swamp. It also had it's on ensuite bathroom. The 2nd door led to a room she'd never been in. It was always looked up and ouma kept the key. The 3rd door led into an area where the dark stairwell was on the right, another door to the kitchen was on the left, and then the rest of the area was open, like a big empty room. Her grandparents kept huge cages in this area with cockatiels that would sing Jan Pierewiet every morning. At the end was another door to the right, which led to the main bedroom again, and another door on the left that led to a storage area for ouma's needlework - she made creepy dolls with left over doll parts that oupa would bring home from the junk yard and scraps of material that was left from the huge church dresses she would make for extra money.
Fey decided the check the second door, since she'd never seen what was in that room before. She pulled the handle down and pushed - it was locked. How disappointing. She decided to check the 3rd door. To her surprise, the stairwell gate was wide open. The mannequin was still there, along with all kinds of other junk, and yes, it was still pitch black. Fey couldn't contain herself, and decided to go down. She stepped down the first flight of stairs, and then stood face to face with the dark at the gate. She pulled out the torch she'd brought with and turned it on. She shined it into the black area. It was so full of junk that she couldn't really make out what the area was for. It looked like a storage space of some sort. She stepped forward, there was web and rat poop everywhere. Her heart started to beat a little faster, she didn't know what she would find in here. As she progressed through the little passages made through the piles of junk, she noticed another stairwell that leads further down. She had to climb over piles of old newspapers to get to it. Fey put the torch down on the newspapers, placed both her palms flat down onto the pile, and pulled herself up. She heard scattering, but was too scared to look, she knew it would be rats and cockroaches, and she didn't want to see them. She twisted herself around and leaned her left foot down, searching for the floor. Fey let out a sharp scream; she had stood on something soft and squishy and couldn't help picturing a dead homeless man decomposing between all this garbage - it sure smelt like a possibility, which she'd previously dismissed as dead rats and cats. She grabbed the torch and jumped back, to get away from the potential dead body and tripped over something hard, she fell back and started to roll down the stairs.
Fey groaned, as she attempted to get up, she had hurt her leg in the fall. She'd also hit her head and she wasn't sure if she'd lost consciousness or not, and if so, for how long. It was even darker down here, if that's even possible. She grabbed her torch, which was still on and shined it around. The wooden floor was rotting away, parts of the floor was missing completely. There was a couch in the distance, with a coffee table and a TV unit - no TV, was probably stolen. She figured that this floor was some sort of man cave for her oupa. She decided that it was too risky to look around, she'd have to go back up and face what ever was rotting in the darkness upstairs - it was big, too big to be an animal and the idea frightened her to death. Fey tried to stand up, but a sharp pain shot through her injured leg, and she collapsed backwards, landing smack bang on the rotting floor, which instantly gave way. In that split second, Fey knew she would not survive this fall, she was going to land on the bottom floor which was sure to have a cement base and she'd snap her neck for sure. Fey hit the ground, but to her surprise, it wasn't that hard. Her leg hurt, but other than that, she seemed to be okay. Fey felt around, and realised that she had fallen on a mattress. Her torch had come down with her, but it had bounced off the mattress and rolled over to the other side of the room. She'd need to get up to go fetch it so that she could see her surroundings. Fey was gathering the courage to get up on that injured leg, when something grabbed her attention; the faintly lit area that the torch was shining on. It was a brick face wall, with huge metal chains and cuffs dangling from the ceiling.
Fey's heart pounded in her throat. What the hell? She couldn't see much but immediately figured that she was in a torture chamber of some sort. Who was her oupa? What did he do here? She couldn't get up right away, so she got on all fours and crawled toward the torch. The floor was cement, as she'd expected, and she was very lucky to land on the mattress. The cement was cold and hard. The floor was sticky and damp, with small sharp objects scattered across, probably stones. Fey grabbed the torch and had a quick look around. The batteries were dying and this level was dark! She was searching for a stairwell. Shining the light from the left and slowly making her way to her right, she spotted more chains bolted to the floor with cuffs at the end. The mattress was in the corner, and standing all alone, was a single chair in the middle of the floor and then there it was, the stairwell, but then Fey suddenly spotted somebody on the chair, she shined the light back on the chair and this time, there was a little white piece of material draped over the seat. She figured she'd seen a little girl, no more than 7 years old and assumed that the white piece of material that she was looking at must have been the little white dress she thought she saw the little girl wearing. Fey was petrified. She started to crawl toward the stairwell. When she got to the first step, she realised that she was going to suck up the pain if she wanted to get out of here. As she climbed on the first step, she heard something. She'd been shuffling and groaning and the sound of her weight on the wooden step had caused the wood to creek, so she stopped, trying to breathe as softly as possible so that she could listen carefully - had she heard something? And then there it was, a soft, muffled voice of a child; "Don't go".
Fey's heart stopped. She had heard that voice very clearly, but she knew that it was impossible for anyone to be down here. Her instinct told her to ignore it and get out NOW, she bit her lip and started to crawl up the stairs with meaning, when she felt something grab her injured leg... She screamed so loud that she thought her own eardrums would burst. She looked back and saw decomposed hand latched around her ankle, it was coming from underneath the stairs. She started to scream "LET GO, LET GO" and shined the torch up the stairs, looking to see how far she need to climb still to get out of this basement, when she saw the gate. "SHIT". She was locked in. Suddenly Fey fell forward. She'd been released. She practically ran up the stairs to the gate, forgetting all about her sore leg - it wasn't that big a deal anymore in comparison to the situation - she shook the gate, it was locked and she wasn't going to get out this way. Fey sank down to the step and started to cry. The sound of Fey's sobs filled the air. Soon, the sound of another woman's sob started to join in and then another. Soon Fey's sobs were drowned out by the sound of a dozen women all sobbing. Fey looked down the stairs and in the dark, could see beaten battered women, all sitting on the stairs, reaching for the gate, crying for help - like her, they too were trapped. Fey closed her eyes and shut herself up. It was quiet. She looked down again and the stairway was clear. She picked up the torch and shined it down the stairs and at the bottom was a group of mannequins all standing in the basement facing the stairwell. Fey wet herself, she couldn't contain her fear. She heard the sound of a key in the gate, she turned her head to see who was there. "Ouma?"
"You fucking little whore. Did he really think I wouldn't find you here?" "No ouma, please, it's me, please help me" Fey knew it was pointless to plead for help. This wasn't ouma. Ouma died when she was 12. This looked like ouma, but this thing had an evil look in it's eye, and when it spoke, it did so with the voice of a demon. Ouma lifted her right hand over her head; she was holding a kitchen knife. She thrusted the knife into Fey's back, Fey screamed in pain and fear. Ouma stabbed again, and again, and again, till Fey's lifeless body was laying on the stairs, her warm blood dripping through the rotten wood and softly tapping the basement floor beneath. Ouma turned around and vanished into the darkness.
Fey stood in the corner of the dark basement. She stood there next to countless other women and children, all dripping in blood, watching the gate, waiting. Waiting for the gate to open. Waiting for oupa to come, come see what ouma has done. Come let us out, just our lifeless bodies, so that we may find rest.
Thursday 12 June 2014
The visitor - short story #3 - PART 3
"What is going on?" Amanda could hear the quiver in her own voice as she tried to whisper as softly as possible "Everyone is dead" "dead?" "yes, it appears to be wearing us as meat suits, and then it disposes of us the moment it finds a new body". Jenna still couldn't get over what she had witnessed. It was so horrible. Too terrible for words. Worse than any horror movie she'd ever seen. Worse than passing a tragic car accident on the side of the road. It left her with a sick feeling of doom.
"Meat suit? You aren't making sense" "Nothing makes sense anymore. Look" Jenna opened the cupboard door just a little. All Amanda could register was blood. Blood on the floor, blood on the ceiling, blood on the walls. Flesh, chunks of it, dangling from the ceiling fan - how did it get there? Bone?? "Is must have left" Jenna said, noticing that the visitor was gone. "I don't know what you're on about, but clearly, we need to get out of here and call the police." Amanda opened the cupboard door slowly, looking left, then right, then left, then right, till she was sure that it was safe to come out. She crawled forward, still cautious, looking out for danger. When Jenna came over and stood beside her, she decided it was probably safe enough to straighten out.
Jenna felt it's hot breath on her neck. Yes. It was standing behind them. They hadn't seen it and certainly hadn't heard it. She was scared. The adrenaline rush came and went so fast, that it left her defenseless - weak legs that felt like they were about to cave in and a heart that was beating so fast her chest would explode. The fear was gripping. Amanda was looking at her and then looking behind her, at her and then behind her again. She was as pale as a ghost. Amanda couldn't believe what she was looking at. Standing just inches behind Jenna, was a monster. It was a 6 foot tall creature. It was covered in pure muscle and blood, like it's skin was on, inside out. It had horns like a ram, coming out of it's forehead. It's eyes were locked on Jenna - eyes like a goat. She would have expected the devil to have eyes like a cat, but no, it had yes like a goat... aside from that, he pretty much resembled a human. Amanda too, couldn't move. Grounded in fear, she was forced to witness the horror.
The visitor lifted his right hand, and pressed his long black nails against Jenna's skin. She could feel them pierce through her flesh, but still, she couldn't bring herself to move, or scream, or make any attempt to save her own life. She knew it was over. She'd seen him work his magic before. She knew it was inevitable, and would just take longer if she fought him. Amanda watched him force his hand right through Jenna's back. He made it look so effortless. Jenna had started to gargle and was making futile attempts at gasping for air, she turned her head and looked at Amanda. Amanda could see the terror in Jenna's eyes. It was over. Jenna knew it, and Amanda knew it. The monster placed his left hand flat against Jenna's shoulder blade and simply pushed her off his right arm. She fell to the floor, the life was gone from her eyes. The monster was holding Jenna's heart. He lifted it to his mouth. Amanda had seen this before, she knew what he was going to do - he tore into it with his long sharp teeth, and after a few quick bites, it was gone. He turned his attention to Amanda, who was still frozen in fear. 'He is going to kill me, oh God, I don't want to die like this'.
Just when Amanda thought she'd be next, the monster stepped over Jenna's body. He picked Jenna up and reached into her via the huge hole in her back, the same hole that her heart had exited her body through. He plucked his arm out, holding bone and intestines, and other organs as far as Amanda could tell, and he flung them backwards over his shoulder. 'Oh, that's how the flesh got up there' Amanda found herself thinking. He kept shoving his hand back into her body, and emptying the fleshy shell that once was Jenna, of it's contents. Amanda felt like she wasn't even there. She felt like she was witnessing the event from another world. Her brain just couldn't grasp what it was seeing. It was so unreal, so gruesome. When he was done, he shook Jenna's flesh out, like a blanket. The term meat suit, came to Amanda's mind. The monster then stuck his left foot through the hold in Jenna's back, he then proceeded to pull at the flesh, like a woman putting on a pair of stockings, till his enormous leg was fully covered by the skin of Jenna's left leg. He then stuck his right leg in, then his arms, and finally his head. When he was all done, he turned around, and looked at Amanda. She thought she was scared before, but nothing could have prepared her for this. She was looking at a bulky distorted Jenna, who was looking right back at her, and giving her a sarcastic smile. She was looking into the eyes of the dead, looking back at her, through the eyes of the devil.
"Doesn't.... fit...." he said, in a low, deep growl, and then started to hobble over to Amanda.
"Meat suit? You aren't making sense" "Nothing makes sense anymore. Look" Jenna opened the cupboard door just a little. All Amanda could register was blood. Blood on the floor, blood on the ceiling, blood on the walls. Flesh, chunks of it, dangling from the ceiling fan - how did it get there? Bone?? "Is must have left" Jenna said, noticing that the visitor was gone. "I don't know what you're on about, but clearly, we need to get out of here and call the police." Amanda opened the cupboard door slowly, looking left, then right, then left, then right, till she was sure that it was safe to come out. She crawled forward, still cautious, looking out for danger. When Jenna came over and stood beside her, she decided it was probably safe enough to straighten out.
Jenna felt it's hot breath on her neck. Yes. It was standing behind them. They hadn't seen it and certainly hadn't heard it. She was scared. The adrenaline rush came and went so fast, that it left her defenseless - weak legs that felt like they were about to cave in and a heart that was beating so fast her chest would explode. The fear was gripping. Amanda was looking at her and then looking behind her, at her and then behind her again. She was as pale as a ghost. Amanda couldn't believe what she was looking at. Standing just inches behind Jenna, was a monster. It was a 6 foot tall creature. It was covered in pure muscle and blood, like it's skin was on, inside out. It had horns like a ram, coming out of it's forehead. It's eyes were locked on Jenna - eyes like a goat. She would have expected the devil to have eyes like a cat, but no, it had yes like a goat... aside from that, he pretty much resembled a human. Amanda too, couldn't move. Grounded in fear, she was forced to witness the horror.
The visitor lifted his right hand, and pressed his long black nails against Jenna's skin. She could feel them pierce through her flesh, but still, she couldn't bring herself to move, or scream, or make any attempt to save her own life. She knew it was over. She'd seen him work his magic before. She knew it was inevitable, and would just take longer if she fought him. Amanda watched him force his hand right through Jenna's back. He made it look so effortless. Jenna had started to gargle and was making futile attempts at gasping for air, she turned her head and looked at Amanda. Amanda could see the terror in Jenna's eyes. It was over. Jenna knew it, and Amanda knew it. The monster placed his left hand flat against Jenna's shoulder blade and simply pushed her off his right arm. She fell to the floor, the life was gone from her eyes. The monster was holding Jenna's heart. He lifted it to his mouth. Amanda had seen this before, she knew what he was going to do - he tore into it with his long sharp teeth, and after a few quick bites, it was gone. He turned his attention to Amanda, who was still frozen in fear. 'He is going to kill me, oh God, I don't want to die like this'.
Just when Amanda thought she'd be next, the monster stepped over Jenna's body. He picked Jenna up and reached into her via the huge hole in her back, the same hole that her heart had exited her body through. He plucked his arm out, holding bone and intestines, and other organs as far as Amanda could tell, and he flung them backwards over his shoulder. 'Oh, that's how the flesh got up there' Amanda found herself thinking. He kept shoving his hand back into her body, and emptying the fleshy shell that once was Jenna, of it's contents. Amanda felt like she wasn't even there. She felt like she was witnessing the event from another world. Her brain just couldn't grasp what it was seeing. It was so unreal, so gruesome. When he was done, he shook Jenna's flesh out, like a blanket. The term meat suit, came to Amanda's mind. The monster then stuck his left foot through the hold in Jenna's back, he then proceeded to pull at the flesh, like a woman putting on a pair of stockings, till his enormous leg was fully covered by the skin of Jenna's left leg. He then stuck his right leg in, then his arms, and finally his head. When he was all done, he turned around, and looked at Amanda. She thought she was scared before, but nothing could have prepared her for this. She was looking at a bulky distorted Jenna, who was looking right back at her, and giving her a sarcastic smile. She was looking into the eyes of the dead, looking back at her, through the eyes of the devil.
"Doesn't.... fit...." he said, in a low, deep growl, and then started to hobble over to Amanda.
Wednesday 4 June 2014
The visitor - short story #3 - PART 2
Jenna was white in the face. "what's wrong? Jenna, what's wrong?" Amanda followed Jenna's blank stare, and low and behold, a bloodied black man was hiding under the table. His gaze broke from Jenna as he made eye contact with Amanda. He must have noticed the inner scream rising up in her because he lifted his right hand and put is forefinger to his lips. He was telling them to keep quiet. Keep quiet? And then, all Amanda's neck hair stood on end. She knew, something was very, very wrong. This big, bloodied black man, was hiding. He was scared. Something scared him! Amanda gave Jenna a weary look, this was bad...
There was a click at the door, everyone turned to look. The keys were in the door on the outside. It could be anyone. The latch turned, there was a snap, as the door unlocked. The door started to open slowly, creaking all the way. It felt like an hour of suspense, Amanda was ready to pass out; she was breathing heavily, she could feel her fingers tingle and the adrenalin rush from seeing an unknown man in hiding had left her numb from the waist down. She was as good as dead in this condition, and she knew it. But then, Sharron stepped in. "SHARRON! ARE YOU OKAY?" the girls were freaking out. Sharron looked like a walking corpse. Her clothes were ripped, she was drenched in blood, and she had absolutely no expression on her face what so ever. Whether or not she was responsive, was another matter entirely, because before she was even given the opportunity to prove that some of her senses were still in tact, the bloody black man had emerged from his hiding place and had started running toward Sharron with a screwdriver in his hand, screaming like a pig getting ready for the slaughter. Within seconds, Jenna had grabbed a pair of office scissors, run up to the stranger, and disemboweled him with one quick swipe. Jenna attempted to step back to take a moment to digest what had just happened, when she stood on a slippery piece of intestine, and fell to the ground landing smack bang on the bloodied body of the man that once was. Amanda started to scream hysterically at the sight of blood, intestines, and her coworker bathing in the mess. Amanda finally shut her face when Jenna looked right past her, to where Sharron last was, and this time, Jenna started to scream!
Amanda turned around, Sharron was holding Nthabi's still-beating heart in her hands. Nthabi looked over to Amanda, and then collapsed to the ground. Sharron grinned, peaking at the remaining office staff from under her long eyelashes, and then took a bite.
Apparently Amanda had lost consciousness. When she came to, she was dazed and unsure of what last happened - it was all so confusing. It was dark, she couldn't see, and she knew she was very uncomfortable. She groaned as she tried to straighten out, but was quickly silenced with a hand around her mouth. Just like that, the memories of the office massacre came rushing back. Jenna could feel the suction of breath against her hand, Amanda was readying herself for a scream. Jenna squeezed her had against Amanda's mouth harder and pulled her close; "it's me, don't make a sound, or we're both dead"
Look out for Part 3, coming soon ;-)
There was a click at the door, everyone turned to look. The keys were in the door on the outside. It could be anyone. The latch turned, there was a snap, as the door unlocked. The door started to open slowly, creaking all the way. It felt like an hour of suspense, Amanda was ready to pass out; she was breathing heavily, she could feel her fingers tingle and the adrenalin rush from seeing an unknown man in hiding had left her numb from the waist down. She was as good as dead in this condition, and she knew it. But then, Sharron stepped in. "SHARRON! ARE YOU OKAY?" the girls were freaking out. Sharron looked like a walking corpse. Her clothes were ripped, she was drenched in blood, and she had absolutely no expression on her face what so ever. Whether or not she was responsive, was another matter entirely, because before she was even given the opportunity to prove that some of her senses were still in tact, the bloody black man had emerged from his hiding place and had started running toward Sharron with a screwdriver in his hand, screaming like a pig getting ready for the slaughter. Within seconds, Jenna had grabbed a pair of office scissors, run up to the stranger, and disemboweled him with one quick swipe. Jenna attempted to step back to take a moment to digest what had just happened, when she stood on a slippery piece of intestine, and fell to the ground landing smack bang on the bloodied body of the man that once was. Amanda started to scream hysterically at the sight of blood, intestines, and her coworker bathing in the mess. Amanda finally shut her face when Jenna looked right past her, to where Sharron last was, and this time, Jenna started to scream!
Amanda turned around, Sharron was holding Nthabi's still-beating heart in her hands. Nthabi looked over to Amanda, and then collapsed to the ground. Sharron grinned, peaking at the remaining office staff from under her long eyelashes, and then took a bite.
Apparently Amanda had lost consciousness. When she came to, she was dazed and unsure of what last happened - it was all so confusing. It was dark, she couldn't see, and she knew she was very uncomfortable. She groaned as she tried to straighten out, but was quickly silenced with a hand around her mouth. Just like that, the memories of the office massacre came rushing back. Jenna could feel the suction of breath against her hand, Amanda was readying herself for a scream. Jenna squeezed her had against Amanda's mouth harder and pulled her close; "it's me, don't make a sound, or we're both dead"
Look out for Part 3, coming soon ;-)
Sunday 1 June 2014
what is life - short story #2
"I am so excited. I've been working very hard to get enough credit so that I could finally choose my own destiny" Paris, or at least that's how she would soon be known, just stepped in line to be born."I've still got to die about another 3 times, that is of course, if everything goes according to plan. So what destiny did you choose?" Charles wasn't looking forward to his birth. But it had to be done. He was to be born to a teenage mother in the DRC, as a result of a brutal attack on her by rebels. His life was going to be tough. His goal was to make a difference, and to NOT be corrupted, like he was in his past life. Hopefully he would get it right this time so that he didn't have to repeat it. "I'm going to be a wealthy heiress. I thought I could take a break after all that hard work" Charles was intrigued "What goal did they give you for that?" "Well I asked them to be lenient with me because this is my 'holiday'. I may only lose my virginity to my husband. Considering the fact that I'll be coming out of a family with that kind of wealth, I'll probably be in he spot light a lot, which should keep me in check so that I don't wander off the path. It would be awesome if they let us in with our memories, like they did in the beginning with the first two generations of players."
What is the world? What is life? When you're in the game, it's your sole existence. There is nothing else. The game starts the moment that you are born. When you start out, you don't have a choice, a life is chosen for you, and you are given a goal. If you achieve that goal, you gain credit. The more difficult the life or the more difficult the goal, the higher the credit, till you have enough of it to chose your own destiny, or buy advantages. What is religion? It's the memories of the first two generations of players, the memory of the 'big guy' that created the game, and the rules they were given to achieve their goals.
Paris is an experienced player. The last time she built up enough credit, she bought an advantage; to remember her past life. Considering the fact that the life she was in when she took that advantage, was one of an Indian boy, born with deformities and given the goal to become rich and famous, this advantage came in pretty handy. He (who will now be a she) wrote religious books on reincarnation which sold out around the world. He was so successful and gained so much credit from that life that he only needed to live one more life, to chose his own destiny.
"When I finally get to chose my own destiny, I want to become a rich doctor who donates his time and efforts in Africa. Spending my last two lives there have really given me a different perspective on the game. Considering how long a lifetime is, I think it's worth trying to improve the standards a bit. In my last life I lost my leg to a land mine, and then I died from infection because I didn't get any proper medical treatment. Had I had a competent doctor, I might have lived long enough to see the error in my ways, and then I wouldn't be back at square one right now." Charles was feeling quite annoyed with his failure.
"Well I wish you the best of luck in your new life Charles. I see I'm up. When I die, I'll look you up and see how you've done" Paris put her hand on Charles' shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze, then turned to the red door in front of her. She drew in a deep breath and then opened it. As Paris walked through the pitch black hallway toward the light, she could hear her father and the hospital staff, "push Kathy, you're nearly there" and then suddenly, Paris' mind was blank and she begun to scream for air.
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