Saturday, October 23, 2010

A Play in Four Acts

Dark shadows splayed across the beige walls. Shadows of “I’m sorry,” “He was a good man” “It was just his time.” I huddled in the corner gripping the new leather shoes he had bought me just weeks before.

The funeral had been like play in four acts. Wake. Service. Graveyard. Reception. They all said the service was beautiful, the flowers were beautiful, he was in a better place now and that was beautiful.

I never answered them, I just stared up at them, with wide pulsating eyes. I didn’t know them, they pretended to know me, introducing themselves, offering their empty sympathies.

I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want them to see me. I got up and trudged into the kitchen. It was littered with casseroles, salads, jellos, and a pound cake that glared at me with on thin slice cut from it. It mocked me, and I inched closer to it.

I palmed the plate, carrying it up to my shoulder. I looked at the nice, beige wall and hurled it at it. The plate smashed, someone screamed, remnants of the squashed cake floated down the wall. Someone rushed in and gathered up the plate in silence. Another came in a swept up the cake in silence. I hated the silence even more than I hated the shadows’ empty sympathies.

I wanted the silence to go away. I turned on the radio over the sink and switched it to high. An old country western song blared loudly echoing off those beige walls. No one said a thing, no one switched it off, they just let it play.

The shadows left one by one, leaving the house empty except for her. She finally switched the radio off as another song started. She was calm and I hated her for it. I took my nice leather shoes and hurled them at the wall near the phone. The shoe polish left black streaks on the walls. She remained calm. She started to wash the dishes, ignoring me.

I suddenly burst out, breaking the silence, “Why are you so calm?!”

There was no answer.

“Answer me!”

There was no answer.

“Answer me dammit!”

There was still no answer.

I screamed out loud and ran upstairs to my room. I plopped down on my bed and stared up at the blank, beige ceiling, tears now burning my eyes. They poured down the sides of my face following the creases like a flowing river. I lay there and cried. I never stopped.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Cry Witch

Annora Pascal sat in the sitting room of her lavishly furnished castle, staring at the picture on the coffee table of her late husband, Grant Pascal. She sighed deeply, as she swept a piece of loose auburn hair out of her face. She looked out the big bay window, down onto the serfs working away below in the fields. She also saw a man riding up on a horse, only to be turned away by the doorman.

She figured that it was another man wishing for her hand in marriage, or in other words, wanting to control her land. Well she would never let a man control her land. She was proud of it and it was making her economically stable. So what if the men in the village thought she was wrong to not have a man protecting her, she could protect herself.

She smiled proudly and stood up, her long maroon dress’ hem falling to the ground as she did. She walked over to the door, and walked out into the hallway with maroon draperies all along the walls. Her favorite color was maroon, and shortly after her husband died she had the whole castle refurnished from the ugly puke green that used to adorn it.

She walked to the top of the stairs, but stopped as she heard hushed voices below. She could barely make out what they were saying, but she recognized the voices right away. One voice belonged to the knight Sir Radulfus and the other belonged to one of the serfs that worked in the house.

“I don’t see why she won’t except my protection, she’ll be wiped out in an instant if I don’t help her,” Radulfus whispered.

“Yes sir I agree, but she claims she can protect herself,” the serf said, “Which makes me wonder…”

“Whether she might be a witch or not?” Radulfus whispered even quieter, “I was wondering the same thing.”

“But how do we prove it if she is?”

“If we can catch her doing something out of place we can get rid of her and get a man to be in charge of the manor, because she doesn’t seem to be interested in marriage…”

Annora gasped to herself quietly and rushed down the hall to her sleeping quarters. Was this true? Did they really think her a witch, or, did they just not like her to be in charge of such a large piece of land. She reached her sleeping quarters and collapsed on the peach sheets of her canopy bed.

She heard footsteps come up the steps and she heard them go down the hall to the sitting room. She held her breath as she heard them moving around in the room. She heard the opening of the chest, and moving of furniture, and then suddenly everything went silent. Then she heard laughing, but not laughing at a joke, triumphant laughing.

What could they have found in there that could show that she was a witch? She didn’t know what they found, but it was obviously something. She listened carefully, still lying on her stomach, on the bed; she listened to footsteps traveling back down the staircase.

She scrambled to the window next to her dresser and looked down onto the village where Radulfus and the serf were running. The church was just letting out, and the priest was standing at the door, shaking people’s hands as they left. Radulfus ran up to the priest and handed him something, though Annora didn’t know what because the church was far away. From what she could see, the crowd coming out of the church stopped and looked back at the priest who appeared to be yelling at them.

She got scared, what had Radulfus shown the priest? And why now was the crowd of people running out of the village and up to the castle, led by the priest and Radulfus? She turned away from the window, closing her eyes and breathing quickly.

Her heart thumped in her chest as she sat down on the bed. She heard thumping at the door, she knew the villagers had arrived.

She ran out of her bedroom and into the hallway and looked over the banister at the crowd that was now flooding in the door and starting up the staircase. Radulfus was in the lead holding up a book high, as though it was the Bible. She suddenly realized what it was, her journal. Women didn’t usually read or write, but her mother had taught her at a young age in secret, but that was enough for them to think she was a witch.

Radulfus neared the top of the step, and Annora made to run, but stepped on the edge of her long dress and fell forward. She landed on the floor and bit her tongue as her chin thumped onto the carpet. She tasted blood in her mouth and she spat it out. She felt a hand tighten around her ankle, pulling her backwards towards the top of the steps. She turned around as she was being pulled to see that it was Radulfus. She tried to kick him away, but he was much stronger than her for he was a knight.

“Please Radulfus!” Annora pleaded, “Don’t do this! You know it’s not true!”

“Not true!?” Radulfus laughed maliciously, “I hold the proof in my hand.”

He extended the journal above the banister so that the crowd could see it. They let out a cheer of agreement as Radulfus seized Annora up by the neck of her dress and held her draped over the banister. She winced as blood dribbled from her mouth.

“Is this who we want as our ruler?” Radulfus yelled to the crowd.

“No!” they all exclaimed.

“Should she pay for her sinful practices?”

“Yes!” the crowd exclaimed again.

“What should her punishment be?” Radulfus yelled pulling her up from the banister, still holding the neck of her dress.

“Burn her! Burn her!” they chanted.

Radulfus then started to drag her down the staircase by the neck of her dress so that her legs thumped down the steps behind him. He treated her like a rag doll, like she was worthless, the exact opposite he was taught. He was taught about code of conduct, Chivalry, to respect women, to protect them, but that was all thrown to the wind as he dragged her to the bottom of the steps.

The crowd parted as he dragged her out the big castle door and across the drawbridge, all while she struggled to get out of his grip. He dragged her all the way down to the village square, while the crowd followed like a pack of dogs. He threw her onto the pedestal in the middle of the square. A bunch of peasant men came out of nowhere, carrying a large wooden post. They set the wooden post up behind her and each of them took one end of a long piece of braided rope and tied her tightly to the post.

She struggled to get free, but the more she struggled the tighter the rope dug into the wrists. They tied her feet to the post as children ran up to her and hurled rotten fruit at her. She was quickly covered in rotten food and the flies were attracted to the smell and began to feast on it.

“You ready to watch her burn?!” Radulfus called out as he raised a torch out in front of him.

“Yeah!” they all screamed.

“Does the witch have any last words?” he asked mockingly.

Annora said nothing as she looked down at the wooden pedestal below. Tears fell from her red eyes onto the weather beaten wood and the crowd cheered Radulfus on. He laughed a hideous laugh.

“Well if that’s all then why don’t we get it over with?!”

“Burn her! Burn her! Burn her!” the crowd chanted all while Radulfus inched the torch closer and closer to the wood that the peasants placed around her feet.

The torch finally connected with the wood and the flames leaped from the wood to her dress, burning it away fast. She barely heard the crowd chanting as the roaring flames covered her body, engulfing her in a hellish bonfire. She screamed loudly as her flesh was singed away from the bone, as her organs began to cook inside her. She screamed so loud, that they could even hear her above their chants and the roar of the fire.

She felt like this was hell, that she was in hell, paying for everything she had ever done. But what had she done? Nothing, she had done nothing wrong in her life. So why must she pay? She felt everything drift away as if she was drifting up, up away from everything. Pain still consumed every inch of what was left of her body. Everything went silent as she drifted away, but she kept repeating one thing over and over in her mind or what was left of it: God forgive them.

Friday, October 1, 2010


So with the start of October, comes the count down to Halloween/Samhain. And with the start of my favorite month come the first installment of my horror movie posts! These are my takes on Horror Movies, and this post is 55 rules to surviving a Horror Movie! So enjoy :)

55 Rules to Surviving a Horror Movie

Disclaimer: All you have to do is follow these easy fifty five rules and you’ll survive through any situation you find yourself in, but break even one of them and start writing your will.

Rule #1: No matter how lost you are in the woods, never go into the abandoned house, just take your chances in the woods.

Rule #2: When driving through the dessert, avoid back roads, stick to the main roads and especially don’t listen to a stranger’s directions.

Rule #3: NEVER pick up hitchhikers, no matter how nice they might seem.

Rule #4: NEVER go hitchhiking yourself, because if someone actually picks you up, they’re not right.

Rule #5: Don’t trust your boyfriend to protect you, worry about your own safety, they’re going to be dead soon anyway.

Rule #6: If water starts pouring out from anything that it shouldn’t be pouring out of (i.e. TVs, walls, couches) stay away from it, don’t walk closer.

Rule #7: When you’re at a slumber party and someone suggests playing Bloody Mary, slap that person upside the head, but whatever you do, DON’T play.

Rule #8: Don’t trust you’re car to get you away from somewhere; it won’t start, so just run away.

Rule #9: If a dead body moves… Run

Rule #10: If you hear a noise in an otherwise thought deserted place, Do Not go towards it.

Rule #11: Never assume a killer is dead, he’s not (shoot him and or hack him until he’s actually dead)

Rule #12: If anywhere, and you meet some stranger and they start talking about something from another decade like it’s the present, it’s safe to say there a ghost.

Rule #13: Seeing a person in a mirror and then turning around to see there not there is NOT NORMAL! That’s your ticket to run.

Rule #14: If your child suddenly has an imaginary friend, most likely they’re not imaginary, they’re dead and using them to get to manipulate them.

Rule #15: NEVER trust creepy children.

Rule #16: If an offer on a giant house seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Rule #17: Dead is better, never bring your love ones back to life, it’ll only be bad for everyone.

Rule #18: If someone you know sleeps during the day, and only comes out at night, face it they’re a vampire so drive a stake to their heart and get it over with.

Rule #19: Never have sex, if you’re already not a virgin well sorry but it’s too late. But the moment you have sex you’ve signed your death sentence.

Rule #20: If you hear voices in the morgue, chances are something’s not exactly all the way dead, and it’s better to get the hell out of there.

Rule #21: Black eyes on a person are NOT NORMAL!

Rule #22: If someone shows up in a picture that wasn’t there when it was taken, just burn the picture.

Rule #23: If someone dares you to go into a “haunted house” don’t do it, better being called a chicken then dead.

Rule #24: Never play with an Ouija board, at the least you’ll piss off a spirit, if not going as far as getting possessed.

Rule #25: Don’t play around with death, if someone fakes being dead for a prank, or otherwise pranks someone in the style of horror, they’ll most end up dead.

Rule #26: Know matter how drunk or otherwise intoxicated you are, never go to a cemetery, only bad can come from it.

Rule #27: Don’t dishonor the dead, don’t mock them, don’t toy with them, because it never turns out good.

Rule #28: Never mess with a grave, you’ll just piss off the spirit of that grave and they’ll set a vendetta against you.

Rule #29: Stay away from abandoned hospitals, insane asylums, factories, and prisons (this should be self explanatory)

Rule #30: Don’t trust authorities to believe you’re outrageous stories; they’ll pass you off as insane and won’t help you, so just help yourself.

Rule #31: The cops can’t protect you, if you get them involved in your supernatural problems they’re just going to end up dead.

Rule #32: The most secure location will not be safe, the killer or killers will find away in.

Rule #33: Even a church might not save you there are things that even God can’t control.

Rule #34: The local legends usually aren’t legends.

Rule #35: The creepy guy in the house down the street will be the one to help you out in the end.

Rule #36: If you’re seeing things that aren’t really there, it’s time to leave.

Rule #37: Never volunteer to wait in the car.

Rule #38: If you do decide to wait in the car, make sure you STAY IN THE CAR, as soon as you walk away from that car, you’re dead.

Rule #39: You’re cell phone will never work, so don’t bother, you could be right under a cell phone tower and it still won’t work.

Rule #40: The weapons that you find (knives, guns, chainsaws) won’t kill the killer, don’t bother.

Rule #41: What will kill the killer are the things that you usually wouldn’t use, so go for those first (TVs, stereos, crutches, car parts, alcohol and fire, croquet mallets, etc.)

Rule #42: If you here a chainsaw… RUN!

Rule #43: Never trust European business men no matter how nice they appear.

Rule #44: Don’t let anyone help you with your car if it breaks down, you’re better off on your own, then in the hands of a stranger.

Rule #45: Never eat or drink anything a stranger gives you, you don’t know what, or even who you’re eating or drinking.

Rule #46: Don’t play chicken on a back country road, or really ever.

Rule #47: Just stay away from children all together, they’re bad omens

Rule #48: Never split up, this once again is self explanatory

Rule #49: Resist the urge to walk on stairs, up or down it doesn’t matter, once you put your first foot on them, you’re dead, just stay on the level you walked in on.

Rule #50: Animals are always good weapons, especially dogs granted that they are on your side and not the killers

Rule #51: Don’t read anything in a different language or anything that sounds like it could be a spell it’s just asking for trouble.

Rule #52: Always answer your cell phone if it rings; don’t blow off the person because most likely they’ll warn you about the killer.

Rule #53: The nice happy toe truck driver or mechanic will always turn out to either be the killer or an accomplice.

Rule #54: If you’re over the age of fifty you’ll be fine, it’s those fifty and younger that have to worry.

Rule #55: Screaming doesn’t help anything, it just draws attention to you so resist the urge.