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! 🙂

Will They still be the Same

Genre: Chilling, Psychological

 

Photo Source: Pixabay.com

Will They still be the Same

 

“Come on in” said the clown: The children were very scared.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise”: The children still held back.

“If you all come in I shall pay the entry for you, the experience will be free!”: The children thought about it.

“And, if you come now – I will give you free passes forever”: Now, the children were getting excited.

“This is the Fun-House children, happiness assured by me, your friendly clown”: The children felt more at ease, approached and ascended the steps.

“Well done my little friends. Now, just push the door open and all of you step inside”: The children did as they were told.

The door closed and locked behind them: in the dark they felt very afraid.

They heard the clown once more: “Children, this is ‘My’ Fun-House, try to get to the other door, see if you can leave!”.

There was no other way out:

And 6 years later the children are still missing.

 

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160 Words

Thanks to ‘PJ’ at ‘Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers’ here for this weeks prompt!

Check out everyone’s story’s on the blue link below!

Heed My Warning

Genre: Paranormal/Supernatural, Horror

 

315

 

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.

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

 

 

 

 

The Evil That Finds Me

Hi all, sorry it’s been a while – I live in an Amusement Park!

Here’s a tale that just might make you think, a little maybe! 😉

VisDare
VisDare 69: Vigilant

Thank you Angela for another cracking picture prompt! (source here).

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The Evil That Finds Me

 

I’m hanging on to every breath I take, the beating of my heart pounding in my chest.

I can hear their howls, the demonic noises coursing through my blood, fracturing my bones.

I cannot make a sound.

I cannot move until I hear them at a distance. I need to get back, and return quick to my own realm, not this, not theirs, not this….

I hear a sound, my breath holds. Then a hand grabs me, yanking me with its force to my knees, until I am at its foot.

“Little, light one” it snarls down on me. I cannot look. This is it. Me. I’m theirs.

Thunder booms and cracks like fire and ice. The Heaven I know begins to fade, leaving me, I cannot control…

What?

The air begins to glisten.

The Demon releases its grip. It screams, piercing my ears with so much pain, then its last breath is gone .

I am being gently pulled. Back, back toward the light, back toward my realm.

Angels cradle all around me. I am back!

Back behind that very thin line: That thin line which separates good and evil.

Forever, I shall now tread very carefully.

 

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An Ugly Business

VisDare54_Covert

 

An Ugly Business

 

I had dissected my 8th victim, let me see, this darn watch – I must get it mended – oh, around an hour ago. A street girl. No-one will miss ‘it’. It is one of the many parasitical infestations within the area that is London. And, ‘Pests’, they must be, so sad and unfortunately, eradicated. Such vermin is not fit to live alongside the Nobler Gentile like myself. My, my, have I much work left to do – to clean this Capitals streets.

It is cold at this hour. The snow it falls heavily and the wind is bitingly prickling. As I pull my collar, I see there is blood upon my shirt. Disgust ensues me. I must be home to rid myself of the remains this ugly business has left on me – The filth of a rabid dog.

I see two Police Men. I tug my collar and coat ever closer. I am a hero. Though that, no-one will ever understand.

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Prompt – VisDare 54: Covert by Angela Goff

Photo Source Here

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