Tag Archives: Horror

The Journeyman

Did you hear the story about the journeyman? They say he comes on the coldest of nights, walking only by the light of the moon, from the darkness into a small town, somewhere, in the heartland, always the same. He’s … Continue reading

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This Blood I Have Shed

This blood I have shed for you. To free you. To stop the pain. He will not hurt you, touch you, make you his, ever again, ever again. My sins overwhelm me constantly but I’m not alone. All of those … Continue reading

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Light in the Dark

Just a little light In the deepest dark Just a little hope The merest spark It could be a ghost Shining in the hall It could be the end The end of it all It could be an angel Weeping … Continue reading

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Battery Hens

Back in the day I felt sorry for battery hens. Didn’t we all? Caged up, cooped up, there only to live then die then feed others. Feed us? Barely able to move, stuck in the seeming eternity of waiting until … Continue reading

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Hands

After the deluge all I could remember were those last moments, and the hands. The hands reaching out from the multitudes falling, grasping, hurtling into the other place, the void. They opened that first portal despite all the warnings. Curiosity … Continue reading

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Mannequin

At the shop we wait to be fitted. Since the singularity we all look the same at first. All bland, featureless, still, like those old mannequins you see in storybooks of the past. This has its advantages. Also like those … Continue reading

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The Bridge

No-one crossed the bridge. No-one. This was well-known. You did not leave our town. Its small, perfect streets and gardens prescribed your life. And you were happy with that, content. Any wish to see more, to understand more, was schooled … Continue reading

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Mommy

Mommy went away. Little doll left all alone, in a household vacated by a family too much in a hurry to see what is left behind. Mommy is gone. Animated plastic thing, with something more within, reaching the window to … Continue reading

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Mother

So, as I understand it, this particular urban myth goes like this: Johnny was a very studious little boy, fascinated by things historical in particular. He really loved Egyptology, from a very young age. Used to drive his poor mother … Continue reading

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Them

They are dancing again, in the night. It’s them. I’ve got my iPhone with me so I can capture them on film at last, to prove my point. They are there. And all they do. My parents say I am … Continue reading

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