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Lady B
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Lady B

Posts : 8
Activity Points : 4236
Reputation Points : 0
Join date : 2012-09-07
Age : 44
Location : England.... for now.

Members writings.... Empty
PostSubject: Members writings.... Members writings.... EmptySat Aug 17, 2013 11:18 am

So someone close to me encouraged me to start writing again. I have written two short horror stories and uploaded them to two well known sites and they are doing well so I thought I would share.

If any of our members also write please share your stories with us! affraid 

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Lady B
Staff
Lady B

Posts : 8
Activity Points : 4236
Reputation Points : 0
Join date : 2012-09-07
Age : 44
Location : England.... for now.

Members writings.... Empty
PostSubject: The Eyes ~ Written by Lady B Members writings.... EmptySat Aug 17, 2013 11:22 am

The Eyes.

The lips of the trees curled around her face as she walked. The night was drawing darker and faster towards her. The warm breeze like spindly fingers, caressing her face as she hurried along.

The wonder in her mind of finding her way home was slowly bubbling away at her, sinking downwards into her heart, causing an acid burn of worry.
Why had she not listened to her friends? “I’m not at all scared of that forest”, she declared … Why she always had to be the most defiant, but this time it wasn't funny. This time it had gone way out of her control.

Bethany had gone too far and was out of her depth this time. Cursing at the brambles whipping and stinging her ankles like jellyfish, Bethany looked down, she was sure these brambles were getting deeper and deeper,

A long guttural rasp seeped out behind her from the trees, snapping her out of her thoughts. Bethany started to sweat, small beads trickling down her temples like rough cut diamonds dropping onto the front of her dress. “Shit”, she muttered to herself as she picked up her pace towards the direction of what she thought was home.

Bethany was starting to become scared. The camping trip had been fun. Her and her friends, sitting around having a beer and the odd marshmallow, telling ghost stories and tales of woe and murder. Then Richard had decided to take it that one step farther, and tell everyone what had happened that day.
The urban legend of Whips ledges was only known among the locals, it was like they wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe ashamed the outside world may find it absurd. Nothing ever happened like this in Safe-haven!

When little Tommy Jackson was found that fateful day, his small body mutilated beyond all belief the locals went into overdrive. Big wig lawyers in the town started filing gagging orders on the press, to prevent any leakage and residents were forced to sign contracts preventing them from disclosing anything about the incident outside of the town.
Such secrets forced the town and its residents into a deep depression. People only venturing out when absolutely needed, otherwise supplies and other goods were ordered in and delivered by unsuspecting and non judgmental couriers.

Bethany had been walking that day, pen in hand and journal in her satchel. Writing down thoughts in her head as they popped in and out like a Geckos tongue catching insects.

Bethany walked to her favorite tree to sit and write. She slumped down into the branches and sighed. Her brain was blocked, she couldn't think of anything to write and it annoyed her. Sniff…. She wrinkled her nose, what was that sour smell, almost like cold burnt cabbage... Bethany dropped her journal and peered over the thick branch, snaked out across the forest floor. She squinted... Something that looked like a blue, mottled mannequin ankle was partially erupting from the shallow dirt. Twisted and pitted against the mushy leaves.

Bethany crawled over, eyes wide and sharp, shallow breaths were all she could manage. The dread rising in her stomach like a cold shot of liquid nitrogen being swirled around. Bethany knew what it was, it was no mannequin. Hand trembling she reached out, slipping her delicate piano fingers around the ankle and she pulled.

Little Tommy Jackson’s torso came sliding out from the shallow make shift grave, Bethany knew only because of the birthmark still dominating his right shoulder. His skin was clammy to the touch with a slight hardened edge, like a cheese, that’s been left out of the refrigerator a little too long. The smell, Oh! The smell, Bethany leaned over to vomit and caught the hem of her dress.

His arms were missing; small bones protruding out had been twisted and broken, leaving messy gaping wounds. One leg was bent completely backwards, with bones protruding through the skin. Large rips in his sides exposed his ribs, some of which were missing or splintered.

Bethany vomited again as she walked around to the top of the grave. She steadied herself against a rock, Tommy Jackson’s eyes had been cut out, in their place resided small pieces of rock, his lips had been shredded and curled back, fastened to his ears. His toothy, evil snarl leering up at her from his leafy tomb.

“Shhhirrrp” Bethany’s dress ripped on the brambles as she fell. The noise still rasping and wheezing behind her, feeling ever closer to the dreadful presence, Bethany could not run anymore, she was tired, she knew what these fateful last moments were going to hold.

Bethany turned over and propped herself onto her elbows. The small round clearing was edged by the brambles she had run into, falling into the center. The raspy, bubbling noise was creeping up now, nearer and louder, filling her ears. Bethany in the dark strained her eyes. They began to widen as she could just make out a slow, misshapen shadow shuffling and dragging itself along the ground towards her.


Bethany whimpered, trying to untangle her dress from the cruel twisted thorns.
Slowly the shape came apparent under the faint moonlight, its jerky, broken legs pushing itself across the ground, blue mottled skin catching twigs and leaving remnants of its self behind. The wide snarling, shredded grin looking at her, gaping black holes staring, head tilted to the side as in some morbid curiosity of her.


As little Tommy Jackson wound and slithered his way up Bethany’s body, she screamed, the cold clammy feeling of him enveloping her body, the rotten breath on her face, the last thing photographed in her mind was those eyes!  Oh god! The eyes!
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Lady B
Staff
Lady B

Posts : 8
Activity Points : 4236
Reputation Points : 0
Join date : 2012-09-07
Age : 44
Location : England.... for now.

Members writings.... Empty
PostSubject: Twisted Tale~ written by Lady B Members writings.... EmptySat Aug 17, 2013 11:30 am

Dear Diary,

I still don’t know to this day what happened. As I sit here thinking about that fateful day some of it is still a blur.

As I lay in bed at night snippets of it come flooding back to me, normally as short, sharp flashbacks. I came home from work, got myself ready and fed the cat. I met Andrew for dinner at 8pm, he wasn’t as relaxed as he was normally was, he seemed jumpy and unsettled.
We ate dinner at a nice Sushi place.

We were invited by the owner and had such nice seats. I will be going back there again I hope. He ate one of his favourites, the 911 Roll. I had California Roll and some Endame salad.
Andrew kept peering out the window, at one point I thought I was boring him. He wore his black suit with black shoes. They looked expensive but he looked sharp and sophisticated.

Towards the end of our date he muttered something along the lines of “That guy! Leaning on the lamp post”. Andrew paid the check and we left. As we were leaving I spotted a lamp post right opposite where the window to our table was. It was a bit creepy. It had a bloody handprint smeared across it.

Andrew opened the car door for me, that’s really sweet, I like being romanced and treated nicely. We drove back to mine and I asked him if he wanted a cup of tea. Alas, forgetful me had forgotten to get milk so I asked Andrew to hang out while I popped out for 20 minutes. On return I made tea and I chatted with him about Poe and our mutual love of all things dark and macabre. He really is one sophisticated fellow.

I like his mind and what it presents. It’s like he has some sort of dark cloud hanging over him however, he is definitely the dark brooding type. At times he seems to phase out and it’s like he is looking straight into my very soul. I find this very attractive however and to be honest I cannot wait to see him again. Anyway I digress.

After tea Andrew got up to leave, telling me he will call me next week. I went off to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
As I opened the door I froze. There was blood spattered up the shower curtain, across my cream bath matt and up the mirror. I wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or scream. So there I was just staring. After what I think was about 10 minutes I finally managed to scan the room more, there was my fish knife poking out the plug hole. The blade had snapped in half and the remainder, from being used against something with such brute force, had buckled somewhat.

I was breathing heavy, not really knowing what to do, standing and staring when my eye caught something dark and tufty looking poking out from behind the tallboy. I peered over and reached out tugging at it.

I screamed as the cat came sliding out from its dark deathbed, its eyes had been popped out of its sockets and were bubbling over like a yellow caviar.  His collar was missing but the disc was sewed to his tail. Ears shredded and he was open from ass end to face. The worse thing was he had been spatchcocked like a chicken, flat out and his innards were missing!

I remember slumping on the floor, tears staining my cheeks with mascara. I can’t get the images out of my mind! Someone help me!
I sat there; whimpering for what I think was hours cradling my mutilated cat in my arms. I remember then getting up, shuffling into the bedroom to try to collect my thoughts and do something!
My eye caught the dresser, underneath I could just make out the shape of a black hat. Where on earth did that come from, as I sure as hell do not wear any hats!  As I went to bend to pick it up, I heard a noise at my window. I stumbled to it grabbing the frame to steady myself and remember peering out to the dimly lit street below.


Leaning on it, under the faint glow I saw a man, against the lamppost. He was wearing all black, his shadowed face just staring up at me, staring so intently it was as if he could see straight through to my soul...from the corner of his jacket, swinging slightly, I could just make out a florescent yellow collar........
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