flash fiction horror

Less than 1000 words

Bleep

I hate that bleep sound. Why won’t they just come and turn it off? …BLEEP. My rising irritation is fighting with my deep desire to sleep and my anger is winning…BLEEP. With the last of my energy I turn to face the machine that is now the focus of my hatred… BLEEP. I see the saline and the antibiotics have run their course and although I know how to reset the machine, my energy is spent. …BLEEP. So I just lie and hate the instrument of torture before me…BLEEP.

My pain is back, this is a seven, and I know they’ll ask…BLEEP. Oh no! This feels odd, a pop and then eight, nine… BLEEP.

My buzzer lies just a foot away but may as well be miles, so I lie and hate that as well…BLEEP. I know they’re busy and they don’t realise how life threatening this is, I think, as my pain envelops me… BLEEP. I wonder, is my pain new or has the morphine worn off? I didn’t know nor really care I just want it away…BLEEP.

I find myself uncomfortable, awash with wet, cold, sweat…BLEEP. My body starts to shiver, oh man! That’s all I need…BLEEP.

The kind nurse appears, although no glasses, drugged and dying it’s hard to make her out… BLEEP. I recognise her aura, it’s strong with bright white light… BLEEP. She’s different to the others, she cares about what she does…BLEEP.

She resets the machine and there’s no bleep, and pushes the buzzer to my hand.

“You should have buzzed us dear”, she takes my temperature and runs away.

“I’m cold, in pain and don’t feel right” I whisper, but no one there to hear. My violent shaking made me hope she’s gone to get a blanket.

Sweat was running down my eyebrows and pooling uncomfortably in my eyes, I can’t raise my hand to clear them, another irritation. I blink and blink but even that is too much effort and so I close them…BLEEP. That bloody noise is back.

There is a lot of noise around me and as I force my eyes to open all I see are auras. White, yellow, turquoise, green and blue, majestic in their lustre…BLEEP. I want a blanket and she got me a fan… why is she so cruel. It is blasting right in my face… I hate my new endurance test. My pain has reached a pinnacle, my whole body alive with it…BLEEP. Before the morphine could reach my veins, my pain disappears. I transcend pain and leave my body, but my thoughts and sense remain. I connect to the energies, I now no longer care, all I feel is peace and see the love from the auras.

This is a rush, I am so aware of everything. I am connecting and merging with so many energies. A knowledge comes over me. I understand so much now that I couldn’t know before. Life is so simple and pure. My soul feels energised. How could I possibly ever have forgotten how this feels? I am happy to follow this energy trail, it is where I want to be. I want to connect with other brighter energies, I need to evolve…

I see a young pretty doctor, dressed in green scrubs. She has amazing eyes, big and full of compassion. She is talking to me but I can’t hear her words.

“It’s ok, you’re going to feel groggy, and you’ve had another big op… your bowel had perforated and you had sepsis again… I think we lost you, but your time here must not be done.”

I watch her walk away, the machine next to me starts to bleep, but it doesn’t bother me. My life will be different from now on. I need a pen and paper, I need to write.

500 word challenge

500 word challenge

Inside its current form, a child’s stuffed toy, the vile, malevolent darkness waited…

It had watched as the putrid flesh from the rotting carcasses had decomposed, revealing twisted skeletons, lying just as they had fallen.

The smashed bones, could allow the replaying of the final scene, so satisfying and sweet.

It would wait… it was all it could do. Its energy slowly depleting…needing… aching… craving new fresh blood.

Next time it would make the deaths and suffering last much longer. It imagined new and exquisite executions. It had learnt that killing quickly offered less in terms of satisfaction. It had time to think and plan and would curb its future maniacal instinct.

There would come a time when it could attach to organic forms and transitions would be rapid. As each new night began its hatred grew.

Splatting flies into walls and watching their bodies explode into puffs of blood became its main amusement. Honing its skills and creating macabre mosaics on the crumbling plaster became its purpose… for now.

It remembered its own death and how its own anger had spoilt that transition. If only it had known its soul was so dark and foul it would be allowed only one. It was proud that its soul was so unworthy and heavy it would never own a form again… merely use them. It waited for that night to come.

The ritual of killing was like a three course meal. The fear of the shocked mortal a delicious aperitif. The energy it stole a taster for so much more. The decision to kill or prolong and how, the main, a mouth-watering menu of delights. Its last killing, replayed so many times became an erotic fantasy. A simple swift heart removal smashing through the ribs. The beating heart still pumping not knowing it was dead… and then the dessert. The sweet taste of a human soul, always hidden through flesh and blood. It took a moment to reveal itself and then the delicious ecstasy of the milky, pure soul. Eventually it would be quick enough to capture it all. For now a scrape would have to do. It was an insanely addictive drive that compelled the bile festering malevolence to demand souls.

But for now it would wait…

A car door and noises downstairs excites the demonic rage. Suppressing laughter. It needed to be silent not to fear the coming souls.

Anticipating the sight of faces shocked by death, almost too much to bear.

The door was sticking, the vile beast’s laugh broke out.

“What was that? Did you hear that? There’s someone in there?

A young male soul with an aura of pure love came into the room. Stunned, shocked, bent over and vomiting, he dropped his camera to the floor.

That was all the energy the vileness needed.

From inside the camera it saw the toy where it had spent so many years. Stronger now and thoroughly entertained. The waiting was over…

Monday Challenge

Eileen’s challenge. Select book 3rd from end. 8th chapter, 15 sentence “Mine was A Shakespeare Anthology. Chapter 8 A midsummer nights dream. Sentence 15. “So quick bright things come to confusion” what am I to do with that ?

So quick bright things come to confusion” had been the strangest headstone inscription I had ever seen. I took a photo with my phone and decided to do some research later. There really must be an interesting story behind that I thought.

I rubbed the stone to reveal the dates as they were much worn, I guessed seventeenth century and the last date sixty nine, I thought.

The grave, at the oldest part of the ancient cemetery of St Cyprian’s Church, well off the beaten track and not accustomed to visitors, was shaded by a huge oak tree. The roots would certainly be causing problems with the inhabitant judging by the gnarled, knobbly protrusions.

There was a pretty carpet of unusual blue flowers that spread across the grave and up the stone and tree. I tried to pick one to examine closer but every time the flower would quickly disappear into the ground. After several attempts I managed to snare one and as I looked I felt my eye sting. I rubbed my eye hard and it watered. I felt strangely tired and lay down on the grave.

When I opened my eyes I was surrounded by tiny, delicate, winged people who were laughing and chattering away. They were pointing at me and dancing on me. I felt dizzy. They shouted together

“Come and join us, come and join us we need a female”

I shouted “No! Leave me alone”

Next thing I knew was the vicar offering his hand and helping me up.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“I’m not sure” I said getting up.

I turned to point at the grave but found only a bench beneath the old Oak tree.

“I’m confused” I said “but wait” remembering my photo.

No photo was on my phone, alas and I couldn’t recall the inscription.

The vicar looked at me with such a look and as he accompanied me out of the churchyard he said.

“There have been many strange things happen at that tree over the years. Your story is not unique. The bench commemorates several people that have gone missing over the years who were last seen at the graveyard.”

As he turned to walk away I swear I heard him say

“So quick bright things come confusion” and I saw him disappear.

I still have no idea what it means but I ain’t going back.

Charlie

I hated Charlie ! He was fine during the day but at night, on his chair, when the moonlight stroked his face he came to life. I was never known to lie but still nobody believed me. He didn’t get up or walk around but he came to life. There would be a noise, a little shuffle and I would look. Something deeply hidden inside, wanted out.

Charlie arrived one Christmas day, in his box that looked like a coffin. I don’t know where he came from, everyone else seemed to like him.I didn’t like the way he looked at me when no one was looking. I don’t think he liked me much either. He didn’t look any better when I pulled his cap over his eyes, that made him smirk because he knew he was winning.

I didn’t want to touch him but family always came at Christmas and my auntie wanted a performance. Being a kid meant I had to do it. My show started the way most eight year olds would do it !

“Gottle of gear ! Gottle of gear ! I got a lot of laughter, and smiles that made me feel loved. But then, I got good, I got really good. In fact I didn’t need to press the lever for his mouth I was so good. It sounded like my voice but I wasn’t speaking. I didn’t know where the words were coming from but they didn’t come from me. Everyone went quiet then because I was so good.

Charlie said ” No one wants you here! You both drink too much!  did you shag your husband’s friend when your husband went to the pub today” I laughed because I thought Charlie said a rude word but I didn’t know what it meant.

My family didn’t laugh. My uncle Tom went in a bad mood and my Auntie Elsie went quiet. My mam told me to put the doll away but I couldn’t, my hand was stuck. My thumb got stuck behind the lever and Charlie started laughing. It was a horrible laugh and I couldn’t stop him. The lever started to squash my thumb and I started to scream and Charlie was still laughing. My mam and auntie Elsie came running over to help. The lever was cutting into my thumb and blood trickled out of Charlie’s mouth. My dad came running with a hammer, I don’t know what he was going to do with that.

The lever released my thumb, I was free! My thumb was bent the wrong way and the pain was unbelievable. There was some blood and a gash that showed bone.

My auntie Elsie had a wet face when she sat next to me at casualty. I said sorry but I didn’t know why. She said I shouldn’t listen to grown up’s conversations, but I didn’t they were boring.

I didn’t want to play with Charlie and he was put on my reading chair next to the window in my room.

Charlie would make my thumb hurt more when I went to bed so I would sleep next to my dad.

Charlie was getting stronger.