Heal

Genre: Psychological, Dark

 

Heal

 

Am I healing?

 

What’s taken place, and what has been. What is no more, what no longer is.

What will be – I do not know.

The climb has been steady, with pitfalls and highs along its way.

The trajectory points up and forward, despite it being impossible to see.

The highs get higher, the laughter gets louder. On the flipside though, and there is a big one, the lows are much lower.

It’s no wonder each day I am comatose. I can’t take the stimulation of the highs as much as I’m unable to take the desperation of the lows.

If there is a middle road, I’m yet to walk it.

Pain is there, as I journey through hell. I’m traversing it, on it I’m balancing, and I’m holding my breath. Because at any time, I might fall.

 

So. Am I healing?

 

Things could be how they were. When I had no one, when nothing was all I did have. Hard work has made it better, although the lows contradict and tell me otherwise.

But I’m still here, so I carry on. Climbing, breathing and surviving.

One day I may be okay, one day I may heal. And Until that day comes, despite my tortured soul, I’ll hold on and hang on to the what that may well be:

I am free.

 

***

 

DailyPost Prompt – ‘Heal’. Click here to view

 

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No Bad Deeds go Unpunished

Genre: Horror-esque

 
Thomas Baker was indeed one of the world’s pessimists. A gaunt fellow in need of some food, clean clothes and a mighty good shave. And a dose of luck. Through a series of misfortunes, Tom Baker had lost everything: his wife, house, job, car and children. Who could blame him for his lack of optimism. I don’t. But the day was coming when his run of bad luck would all change.

In the busy shopping town of Newquey, Tom found his regular spot between a supermarket and a department store. Making himself comfortable – as comfortable as one can be sitting on a concrete floor – he began his desperate mantra to the shoppers: “Please spare me some change, please?”.

A few hours later, with little more than £1.50, Tom was despondent, depressed and dejected. Just as he was about to get up with his measly pennies a voice brought him out of his stupor. He looked up to find an elderly, kind face looking down at him. The man was dressed almost like a Priest, Tom thought. The man had Tom’s attention. And began to share a Secret with him.

Tom wanted proof. Proof that what the man had told him was true. That he could get back everything he had lost, and more. All he had to do was go to some Church situated behind some bend on some avenue somewhere up the road and pray at its altar. Tom thought he knew this town: he’d never seen this Church nor got the scoop from anyone else that it existed. But, Tom had nothing to lose and so began to follow the priests directions on the scrap of paper in his hand. 

Reaching the location, there was indeed a Church and Tom wondered how he’d never seen it before. Okay it’s obscured and a little small, but surely he would have heard of it. Shrugging, he pushes the door open and enters.

Now, The kind Priest is in fact a collector. He takes souls from those who have done wrong in their life. And Tom had done plenty wrong.

He cheated on his Wife, continually. Set fire to his house for an insurance payout, incinerating the dogs in the process. Assaulted his boss causing internal bleeding, a head trauma and broken ribs (and, naturally, was sacked). Crashed his car deliberately for insurance money and severely injured an elderly couple . And he ignored his children their whole young lives. The circumstances he is now in was all of his own doing. And deserves no pity.

He was approaching the altar and getting ready to pray, when the priest stepped out from, to Tom, what seemed like nowhere. “I need you to sign this before you pray”, the Priest told him. Tom signed, not even reading it. He just wanted to get on with getting his life back regardless of the detriment it would cause his family especially. He simply didn’t care.

Folding the papers into his pocket, the Priest mumbled a few words then clapped his hands once.

Tom immediately found himself in his bed, in his home, laying next to his wife. It worked, he thought excitedly, it bloody worked! Hang on, this feels real, he said to himself now thinking it was a bad dream he just had.

But the house? Why is it still standing? Why are the dogs alive and growling at me? Why is my boss also in the bed cuddling my wife? Why are the children just standing there wielding knives? He didn’t understand.

Then his wife stirred. “Hello Dear. Guess what? This is where your real nightmare begins. Welcome to your very own personal Hell and kissed his cheek. Then she and the others turned into The Black Demons – from Hell.

 

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Hello! 🙂 I am soooo glad to have got this story written. I nearly quit when the brain-fog began to enter. It was great to finally finish it.

The Prompt is from a newly found Weekly Writing Challenge I discovered over at Jennifer Kiley’s ‘Secret Keeper’ blog. Click here to check it out. 5 words are given each Monday to weave any type of Poem or Flash piece. The 5 words for this week (#56) are -Proof-Share-Secret-Bend-Scoop. And here is the posts direct link.

And, as always, Thank you very much for reading and come back again soon! 🙂

Devil’s Flip Side

Genre: Seriously Miserable!

 

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Devil’s Flip Side

 

The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode; because literally it is the home of the Devil, just not the way that we know it.

Most people think that if you are bad in your current life then you have a passage straight to hell: In fact, the opposite is true. If you have done good most of your life, on death you’re soul comes here – to be taught how to be bad for when you return in another body: Bad will be all what you know and all that you do.

In this world it is better to be bad… and if you’re not, you are going to learn how to be bad anyway.

So, that sinister thought you’ve had mulling around for so long? Go ahead and do it. Because one day you’re going to meet the Devil…. And when you do, you’ll be looking at your own reflection regardless.

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Hi guys… another installment for ‘Mondays Finish the Story’… Click here to be taken to the page to read others’ stories or click on the blue froggy button!

The Soul Pushers

Genre: Paranormal/Supernatural

 

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Photo Source

 

The Soul Pushers

 

“Why do they always insist on holding onto that tree: They can’t stay forever: They’re going to have to eventually pass into the light, or rather the dark, as in their case:.. Every single time we must endure this”

“Well, they don’t want to let their souls go: too afraid of what lies ahead of them”

“They are going to have to face their futures in Hell at some point”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem”

“Well, dismembering bodies, murder, torture, rape, battery: That is the problem. What did they expect? A free ticket from their existence upon death?… It simply doesn’t work like that”

“We know that, but if they knew it, they’d never of committed those crimes in the first place”

“And that’s the justice… They thought Death Row and the Electric Chair was bad enough; and now, here they are knowing full well they will spend the rest of eternity feeling the pain they inflicted on their victims… Foolish, foolish people”

“Well, it was the choices they made when they were alive”

“True”

“Come on, lets just pry their hands off the tree and shift their souls on before the next lot arrive”

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Thanks to the wonderful ‘Angela Goff’ for this weeks VisDare Writing Challenge here

 

 

 

Heed My Warning

Genre: Paranormal/Supernatural, Horror

 

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Heed My Warning

 

They say that this place is not just sacred, but full of evil. The old texts speak of the ritualistic sacrifices: Adults, infants and babies all tortured beyond recognition: The viscous infliction lasting days. And when the clan knew there was just 10% of life left in these souls, it was then that their bodies are set on fire. So, on death, that percentage of their spirit would feed the unseen that they worshipped.

Legend says that those who travel to see this place are never the same again: The evil still lingers and seeps into their mind and body once it has claimed its 10% from his or her soul. Then it intrudes the mind with dark visions of all the sacrificial torment that has ever been, and the body begins to decay from the inside out.

At the site, I ignored the statues of warning and went into the sacrificial chamber to see for myself if the legend was true: And as I recount this transcription for people to heed to never go near that place, the death I am dying is a slow and torturous one; I doubt not dissimilar to those of the past sacrificed.

I wish I could give more warning. But, It will only be on death that I shall ever know the true source of its evil – and by then I can recount no more.

* * *

Thanks to Joe over at Sunday Photo Fiction here for this incredible photo prompt!

 

 

 

 

The Unearthly Asylum

Genre: Paranormal/Supernatural

wpid-photo-20150315214704572Photo Source

The Unearthly Asylum

 

She walked tirelessly along the dark passageways looking for others like her.

 

Pipes banged, doors drummed, moans echoed.

The humming of song, the repetitive tap-tap-tap of fingers.

The creaking of ancient floors.

 

This place scared her.

 

Demonic cries and agonizing screams – these were not from those like her.

 

Her walking took her to the midpoint of a dank hallway, where at its end, a white light glowed. Filled with Angelic faces, smiling children and figures in white; they all beckoned her. ‘These must be the ones’ she thought. But an odd, uncomfortable feeling ran down her spine: Something was wrong.

 

Behind her, the shrieks, the cries and the noise became louder and louder. She wanted to run, but both directions made her too afraid. For a moment, she just stood, rigid.

 

Then a hand on her shoulder made her scream. The hand was that of her Nurse.

 

She was gently guided back to her room. Too terrified to recount what had just happened, she allowed the Nurse to sedate her.

 

But, before falling into slumber, she swore she heard some chatter. All she ‘thought’ she could hear was: “Let the poor girl stay in limbo a little while longer. Once the good Doctor has finished with her, then I promise, you’ll be free to drag her to hell”.

 

Then the next morning, her Doctor came to visit.

 

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Thank You “Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers” here for this weeks prompt

She Comes

Genre: Supernatural 

 

 

She Comes

 

She has finally come for me. I know now that the day I’ve avoided 10,000 years has arrived.

There she stands speaking with her simple stare.

She penetrates in to me, reflecting back what my soul is.

I am trying to place a psychic barrier between us: She breaks through with ease. I place a white light around me: She still remains.

I thought I was immortal, but for that one good deed I done, this is my punishment.

I should have let my Sister die.

We live to maim, to kill, to destruct, to curse all we meet: We are the Evil Ones.

Yet for eternity I will suffer every wrong deed I have done to others – but each and every single one 10 times its fold… Over and over again.

As I mentally accept my fate, The Black Eyed Angel she swoops down on me and I am pulled to Hell:

I should have let my Sister die.

 

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Thank You Angela Goff (website here) for this weeks corker of a photo (source here) in our Wednesday VisualDare, this week it’s #72: Rejection! Lots of fun as always; any writers out there, check out her site to catch the weekly Photo Challenge, it’s always a creative picture I can assure you!!

And if you liked my story, please do let me know what you think, where I went wrong – or right! – and give me a little like if it was a pleasing/intriguing/________? read! Thanks and good wishes!! 🙂 ❤