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Category: 30-minute shivers.
30 minute shivers is available for Pre-order!
30 minute shivers: A collection of macabre tales.
Here it is, my next project! 30 minute shivers: A collection of Macabre tales! If you have been following me here for a while, you may already be in the know, I have had this project in my back pocket for a while and I have mentioned is more than a few times.. But I am finally ready to pull the trigger on it.
October is my planned release, though no specific date has been decided as of yet. Stay tuned! As always feel free to like and or comment!
Available June 1 on Amazon
It has been a challenging few weeks, but “Yellow Man” is finally ready! Available on June first, 2024. Pre-orders should be available in the next 72 hours!
Aside from Yellow Man getting published “Emergence Ascended” will be available on Audible the first week of June as well! My next project is finishing up “30 Minute Shivers” my collection of short horror stories. And then onto a much bigger project that should keep me busy for the next year or two. Stay tuned as I update more on these projects! Feel free to comment and “like” I love to see that!
Bone Dice
Here is a quick short story for “30 Minute Shivers.” Of course, this is a very rough draft, but I think I got the meat of the idea down. I already have ideas of what to revise, but I will let this sit and stew for a bit.
Bone Dice
At first, Jimmy didn’t think he hit him hard enough. He looked up and down the dark alley to see if he was still alone, and no one noticed. He knew he was alone, but he checked again anyway. One couldn’t be too careful when you have just committed murder.
He had gotten cleaned out of the last coppers he had in the world. He had been hungry but decided to try his luck, improve his situation, and maybe get a room for the night as well as a hot meal. But that son of a bitch must have been cheating. He saw the dice. They must have been loaded or weighted somehow or otherwise controlled. That had to be it.
Jimmy waited outside, shrouded by shadows of an overhang across the street by an even darker alley. He waited for the last of the patrons to leave and for the pub to close for the evening. Well, he was waiting for the damn cheater to leave, at any rate. It was fortunate (for Jimmy, not the son of a bitch) that the pub was closing and everyone was leaving. While he waited, his hunger growing stronger every second, he looked for a suitable ‘tool’, and a fist-sized stone seemed to fit the bill.
The cheater staggered out of the pub happy as can be, his pockets heavy with coins, my money, he thought, and the dice. Jimmy watched as the cheater hummed happily to himself as he wandered in the direction of wherever he called home, though he was never going to make it.
The cheater had run out of luck if he had any to begin with. Nonetheless, it had run out as he made his last mistake, choosing a shortcut in the alley next to the overhang where Jimmy had been lurking. Jimmy glanced around, ensuring there was no one else and that he or they were alone.
As quietly as he could, Jimmy closed the gap between him and the cheater and swung the stone down hard on the back of the cheater’s head with one smooth motion. The stone glanced off his skull. The cheater stopped in his tracks, said nothing, and did not move. For the briefest moments, he thought he did not hit him hard enough, but the cheater didn’t do anything. Just stood there. Just as Jimmy decided to take another whack at him, the cheater slumped to the ground.
Jimmy dragged the son of a bitch to the darkest part of the alley and began to go through his pockets. He found the coin purse right away. Its hefty weight and jingle gave it away immediately, but it took some rummaging to find the dice.
It was awkward. The dice were in the front pocket and were at a weird angle. He had to twist his wrist and slide his hand in the still-warm pocket, feeling for the dice. His fingertips brushed the edges of the dice, sending a flash of hope through Jimmy. He wiggled and stretched, finally gaining purchase, and started to slide the dice out of the pocket.
A clammy hand clamped around Jimmy’s wrist as the cheater began to rouse awake and slurred his protest. “No, don’t, not the dice.” Jimmy froze. His heart beat frantically as he tried to wrench the hand from his wrist without losing hold of the dice.
“Take the money, but not my dice.” He slurred again. Jimmy reacted swiftly. The mumbling scared him and made him afraid of getting noticed. He swung the stone again, smashing into the face of the son of a bitch, silencing his protests with a meaty hollow-sounding thunk.
Jimmy wasn’t sure what he tried to say, but the cheater managed one more attempt at protest, saying what Jimmy could only think, “Cursed.” As the bloody bubbles and drool leaked out of his mouth. The grip on his wrist went slack, and Jimmy finished extracting the cursed dice from the cheater’s pocket. He glanced around again, ensuring he was in the clear, and then took the coin purse and dice. He fled down the alley away from the scene.
After a few blocks of fast walking, half jogging, he slowed to a regular walking pace toward the wharf. There was an Inn at the waterfront, and Jimmy was eager to get a hot meal and a warm bed for the night.
He neared the waterfront, and the gas lamps illuminated his path. He was sure that he did not get any blood on him, but he checked in the reflection of a store window, just to be sure. Aside from being a little disheveled, he didn’t see anything incriminating. Feeling confident he would pass muster, he strolled into the Inn.
A few coins lighter (from his fresh supply), he acquired a hot bowl of stew and a room for the night. He tried separately not to hork down the soup and forced himself to pace each bite. He pulled the dice out of his pocket and inspected his new treasure.
Cursed or not, they looked like ordinary dice. Jimmy pulled one close to his eye, looking at it like a jeweler would a gem. He did not see anything to indicate that there was tampering. They felt right. At least their weight felt right. He assumed they were ordinary ivory dice, but as he looked closer, he found they were made of some kind of bone. Bone dice were not unusual. They were almost as common as ivory. Ivory dice were nicer, of course, but bone dice were considered the poor man’s dice. That seemed appropriate.
The following morning, Jimmy woke up feeling refreshed. He went to the dining area for breakfast, and maybe he could spark up a game to test his dice. He ate his porridge and washed it down with warm ale. His new dice and a few coins sitting in the middle of his table in invitation.
A sailor passed by, eyeing the dice and coins. Jimmy saw and smiled wide, “Ya up for a quick game?” he asked hopefully. The Sailor grunted and shrugged his shoulders. “I got a few minutes. Sure, why not?” He said as he sat down in the chair opposite Jimmy.
Jimmy grinned and eagerly grabbed the dice, then rubbed them in his hands, ‘warming them up.’ A tiny sliver of bone sunk into his palm as he rubbed. He tried not to wince or indicate anything happened. He opened his palm to see a drop of blood smeared on the die. He went to casually wipe it off, but the blood soaked into the die as if there was nothing there to start with as if it was thirsty for it..
The Sailor tossed some coins on the table, looking impatient for the game to start. Jimmy slid the dice over to the Sailor. Standard game etiquette, opponent rolls first. The Sailor rolled the dice, and the game began.
Jimmy did well in the first few rounds, but his coin purse started getting lighter and lighter, making him nervous and frustrated. The Sailor started looking anxious, as the time was slipping and this was only a quick game. He looked like he was ready to leave. Jimmy’s palm itched where the sliver was, and something he could not tell, a feeling he was getting, told him to try one more time.
Whether greed or disappointment, he agreed with the feeling and implied one more round before the Sailor left to do his business. Jimmy slid a nice stack of coins, upping the ante for the final round. His roll was nice, not impossible to beat, but it was a good enough roll to make it challenging. As the Sailor tossed the dice, Jimmy’s palm twitched, and he felt a pull on the dice. He saw the dice roll as if in slow motion.
He saw the dice. They were landing on a higher roll. In the slow-motion movement, he watched as his heart thumped. He had to win this turn. His coins were almost gone. Cleaned out again his damn luck. He needed to win. At the last instance, the dice teetered and fell onto the high number.
At the loss, the Sailor slammed his hands down on the table but had a good-natured grin.
“Well, good game,” he said and stood. Jimmy stood and offered his hand in thanks for the game.
As the Sailor walked away, Jimmy smiled and saw the pile of coins on the table. A few more than when he started.
After sliding the coins back into the purse, he grabbed the dice. Gave them a good squeeze as if in thanks and then put them in his pocket. Another sliver, a bigger one this time, from the edge of the dice poked his hand. Jimmy winced and yanked his hand out of his pocket, then licked the puncture the sliver had made.
He left the Inn, full belly and a little buzzed from the ale. He smiled as he strolled the walk to the pier. His thoughts were consumed with the dice. He started thinking about where to gamble next as he passed a crowd growing on the corner.
He felt panic grow as he realized where he was. The alley he acquired the dice from. It was dark last night, and he did not think anyone saw him, but he knew that he should not be hanging around the scene of the crime, his crime.
The dice had all but consumed his thoughts, and a stab of guilt went through him as he realized the implications. I murdered someone last night. Jimmy was smart enough to leave. He casually acted disinterested in the commotion that was building at the end of the alley and strolled away casually.
He felt his luck was turning; maybe it was the dice, or maybe it was just his time to get lucky. He wasn’t arrested for murder. That was one thing. He almost felt guilty, but that son of a bitch took him for all his worth, and probably he wasn’t the only one that was victimized. But now he had the lucky dice. He promised himself not to be like the ‘cheater.’ He would play and win enough to not cause notice. He didn’t want to be the guy getting bashed in the back of the skull by the next guy.
Getting a ride from a merchant heading the same way cost him a few coins. He tried to convince the merchant to play a game, his palm itching furiously at the idea, but the merchant was not interested in gambling. Jimmy gave in, handed him some coins for his trouble, and hopped on the back of the wagon.
The ride was slow and peaceful. Jimmy unconsciously fidgeted with the dice. Not realizing that he had even pulled them out of his pockets. They were warm, and Jimmy felt a strange comfort in holding them. He rolled them in his finger, feeling every surface, finding the rough edge of one, like the edge that splintered, poking him twice already. Curious, he looked at the dice again, looking for the splintered edge. But in the sun’s warm glow, all the edges looked smooth and polished from years of use.
Jimmy thought about the dice ‘drinking’ the blood from the splinter. Maybe he would have done better if he had given it more; perhaps it would have been a trade-off. Maybe this was the ‘curse’ the cheater was trying to say out of his broken face.
They arrived at town, and Jimmy looked for the nearest Inn. He was excited to get another game going. His new trinket needed to be fully explored, and the thought of having more than a few coins and one meal a day fed his greed.
He got a room, straightened his shirt, and cleaned up as best he could. The dice felt heavy in his pocket. He pulled them out and looked at them, saw the rawness where the splinter was. He fished out his pocket knife and, without hesitation, sliced his palm open wide. Wincing at the pain of it, he set the dice in the pooling blood. The dice soaked in the blood as fast as it flowed out.
Jimmy grinned at the marvel he was seeing. The dice greedily absorbed the blood, and it felt as though it was sucking it out of him, pulling more and more. He couldn’t believe it. There should be no way the small cube could contain so much liquid. He felt it wanted more, but Jimmy was eager to play and make some money. He grinned, pulled the ravenous dice from his palm, and wrapped it in the cleanest rag he could scavenge. Feeling lucky, he confidently headed to the pub.
It was starting to get busy at the pub, but he was able to get a free table. Several cards and dice games were already going on, but he wanted to use his special dice. He put them in the middle of the table and threw on a small stack of coins to garner attention. A couple blokes saddled up and accepted the implied invite.
The game started. He felt the same sensation as before, to make the dice land on the winning numbers, but made sure that he paced himself and didn’t win every turn. That was the smart thing to do. He knew for a fact that winning too much too soon would get your skull caved in.
He stayed in this town for a few days. His coin purse was almost full; he was richer than ever, and this was just the beginning. His idea of the blood sacrifice (he came to terms with that realization) was proved, but his hands were getting too sore, and he needed to heal. He decided to hire a coach now that he could afford such luxury and move on to the next town. It would give his hand a small respite and hopefully heal a bit before the next games.
He was playing it smart. He only stayed in a town for a few days before moving on. Did not want to attract attention or overstay his welcome. He allowed enough losses to make his wins seem natural. People were never happy when they lost, but at least he had not been accused of cheating or made people angry at him. He had good clothes, could afford good meals, and even a lady or two for the night. Life was good.
He had been making his way up and down the coast. Fishing villages and ports were great places to find strangers to fleece. This port town looked particularly prosperous, and he felt he could push his game a little. He got dressed in his nicest clothing and headed to the more affluent part of town. He found a pub he would have been most likely kicked out of a month ago since he looked no better than the average vagabond then. Now, that was a different story.
His diced buzzed in his pocket, the now familiar urging. It wanted blood. He wanted money. He unwrapped the now seemingly permanent bandage and reopened the wound. He let his greedy dice feast and then set out to get a game going. As usual, he played it cool, lost enough to make it seem legitimate, but always won in the end. His purse was full already, and he decided to call it a night after only a few games.
It was starting to get dark in the early evening as he strolled back to the Inn where he was staying. He did not notice the small group of thugs that had been following him from the pub. He turned a corner and almost collided with a big man slapping a fish club in his hand. He stepped back, realizing the danger immediately.
“Drop the coins and walk away,” the thug growled, looking at the fat coin purse hanging from his hip. Jimmy glanced over his shoulder, looking for an avenue of escape, but saw the rest of the gang making a semicircle around him. Realizing this was a losing battle, he held his hands up, giving in, “Okay, okay! Just don’t hurt me,” he said and began untieing the purse from his belt. He had just managed to free it when a flash of light flashed in his eyes as he heard a thunk, and his vision blurred.
He dropped to the ground, semi-conscious. He heard the laughter from the gang as they grabbed his purse and gave a few solid kicks to his ribs.
“A fancy lad like you must have more trinkets in your pockets,” the biggest one, more than likely the leader, said. The leader nodded to one of them and started going through his pockets. He did have a few trinkets in his pockets. But he didn’t care about those, just the dice.
They rifled through, finding a few things, but discarded his precious dice, to Jimmy’s relief. He lay there on the ground, sore and humiliated, but could see his dice scattered in front of him. He just lay there waiting for the gang to leave. They began to walk away as the leader looked back at Jimmy, seeing him staring at the dice. With a wicked smile, the thug stepped over and ground the dice under the thick leather sole of his boot. “No!” he screamed, “not the dice!” he cried, reaching for the shattered remains. The gang laughed at the poor sap they had just robbed and casually walked away, unconcerned about Jimmy retaliating.
His hand throbbed under the bandage, a burning sensation that had nothing to do with the beating he had endured. It itched. He felt anger welling up, no longer afraid of the group, and decided at that moment that he would get revenge.
The next night, he hunted. He had a plan all worked out. He had a small satchel with things he thought he might need, some rope a heavy club and a small saw.He walked up and down the boulevard pretending to be window shopping but all the while keeping his eyes open for the thugs. He smiled I guess I still have some luck left in me, he thought as he noticed the gang leader trying to look casual near the entrance of an ally.
He walked around the block to the other side of the ally. He walked past a few times, gauging if the leader was alone, and as luck would have it, he was. As quietly as he could, he walked toward the thug, even more lucky as it was getting dark and little traffic was left on the streets. He had the heavy club ready to go. He walked up behind the thug And, with all his might, swung it down on the thug’s head. Just like the first time, the victim did not make a sound and crumbled to the ground.
Unlike the first time, this one was decidedly dead on the first blow, as dark red blood and gray matter began oozing from the shattered remains of the back of his head. He looked back and forth, making sure the coast was clear, and then grabbed the thug under his arms and dragged him into the darkening alley.
Jimmy had to work fast; he could be caught at any moment. He pulled the saw out of the satchel and began to saw furiously on the thug’s leg. He didn’t need much but knew he wanted a thicker portion to work with. The saw worked fast, the flesh gave almost no resistance, and the bone wasn’t much more effort. Before long, he had a sizable chunk of femur to work with. He shoved it in his back, wiped off as much blood from his hands and arms as he could, and then returned to his room at the Inn.
His first few attempts were failures. He wasn’t a craftsman or an artist. At least he had the forethought to ensure he had enough material to work with. He finally managed to cut away 2 cubes of bone roughly the correct size. As he polished and carved the pips, the sliver he never managed to get out of his thumb in the dice began to burn. The closer he got to finishing the dice, the more the sliver seemed to work its way out. He watched in awe as the sliver slid out of his thumb and into the dice, splitting into two equal parts.
He knew what to do next as he looked at the new bone dice he made. He could almost hear sucking noises as he slit another gash into his palm.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
I have always liked that saying. I don’t know why. Maybe I enjoy duality. As I poke my head out of the cave of 2023 into the dawning of 2024 I am looking ahead for a great writing year. I have some great intentions, both long-term and short-term.
I will pause here and do my obligatory reflections of 2023. I’ll start with the fun stuff, I published another novel “Emergence Ascended.” I Wrote a novel for NaNoWriMo, which was a bucket list item. (Now I feel like I can legitimately say I am a Novelist.) I Did an interview on Youtube to promote my new novel (It didn’t help, but it was a fun experience). If you follow my social media accounts you may notice that I do not do the random selfie post as I prefer to stay in the background (Introvert stuff) but in the spirit of self-promotion I powered through.
There is probably more highlights of fun things in 2023 but sometimes I want to keep things for me. That being said there was some interesting things in 2023, just to keep it spicy. The big one is a series of events starting with a road rage incident, our vehicle got a nice bullet hole. Sent it to the bodyshop for repair, of which there was a break in and OUR vehicle was stolen to commit a crime. It was recovered a month later with a group of homeless occupying it in an alleyway. Toxicology report deemed it hazardous and it had to be ‘totaled’ by the insurance (we didn’t want to drive a Meth car anyway.) Replaced the vehicle with a new one from the insurance money. Whew. But that is not all. A month later a windstorm took out a tree, causing it to fall onto our home, and, Guess what?… The new Van. Yup. Lucky it was a glancing blow and our Insurance (again) fixed the repairs for that (No we did not take it to the same bodyshop) But wait there is more. Our upstairs bathtub cracked and flooded the garage. SO now we have a shiny new bath room remodel (that we are still paying for at the cost of 400$ a month)All in all, though it was a financially and mentally stressful year, we survived, and I still think the good outweighed the bad as far as 2023 goes.
Whats next? I have some very good intentions for the year coming up. First on my agenda is to finish “Yellow Man.” the novel I wrote for NaNoWriMo. There are some good bones in the story, and I am working on fleshing out some details and adding things I missed or neglected in the first rough draft. Who knows how long this process is going to take me, but I am optimistic I can get it finished soonish.
I have several more stories I want to get down. Most are just thumbnail thoughts, and don’t have names yet. The “Bigfoot” story is next after Yellow Man. I love Cryptids and am excited to get that one rolling. I have two possible endings rolling around, I guess I will decide when I get there. Another one is the Will-o-the-wisp story. I want to get that one done before the BIG project. The Big Project is a storyline that will turn into a series (more than likely) with some vignettes here and there. There is a great setting that I thing I can create a small little world around with different adventures to play with. But this one I am going to give a lot of thought while I finish the other three stories. I want to get those out of the way because I predict that the big project will consume a few years (at the least, unless I get bored or distracted, which is probable)
Of course I will keep on keeping on with the blog. I will jot down some more short stories for your enjoyment. I am still compiling short stories for my book “30-minute Shivers.” A collection of short horror stories.
The Audible project, I intend to start recording (for realz this time) on Sunday mornings. I can enjoy my new “recording studio” and give you my least cringy narration to Emergence Collective on Spotify.
Thank you for spending your time visiting my blog; I sincerely appreciate it. I love interacting and building friendships, so feel free to comment and like. You can follow my socials and other projects by clicking the linktree. https://linktr.ee/jshallett
Cellar Door.
Here is a Halloween flash fiction that I had wanted to get out last night (on Halloween duh). However, I got busy and did not get a chance to finish it, with all the ritual sacrifices and ceremonies to do. I mean handing out candy and lighting candles for trick-or-treaters (Of which we got zero, and ended up watching the movie Halloween and eating the candy). Anyway, here is my little story “Cellar Door.” It is based on a reoccurring dream I have had all my life, about the cabin I grew up in, in Alaska.
Cellar door.
At sixteen, Kyle was excited for the trip to the cottage he and his family spent their summers in Romania. He didn’t know the details, and he didn’t really care how it came to be that his family would start the trek overseas each year to the remote village. Kyle was excited nonetheless about the trip, not so much the destination, because what teenager wants to spend another summer in a small remote village? If he was lucky, he would meet a girl his age; that would at least make the trip worth it.
They did pretty well on the flight so far. Kyle and his younger brother, Cam, a six-year-old, could only behave so long before getting bored. They found the flight attendant to be a good source of entertainment, and lucky for them, it wasn’t the flight attendant’s first rodeo. She was good-natured about the constant requests for more snacks and sodas and even slipped Cam a few extra packages of crackers with a ‘just between us’ wink. That garnered an unspoken alliance between them. As long as the snacks were constantly flowing, his behavior would be in check.
The attendant trundled the meal cart down the aisle, handing out dinners and drinks before the lights dimmed for the evening on the overnight flight. It was already quiet, and more than a few passengers had already curled up as best they could in the uncomfortable seats. Kyle, who took the privilege of the aisle seat, discreetly peeked behind him down the aisle. Meal time was a great time to get a long look at the attendant’s curvy features without restriction. She eventually made her way to their seats, handing off dinners to his parents across the aisle. Kyle watched her bend over, reaching to hand off a meal tray to the window seat. Despite the distraction of his newfound curiosity, he spied the drawer with the alcohol mini bottles. The drawer was partway opened, and he could see a few bottles were easily within reach.
He waited for her to serve the next tray of food, then reached out as quietly as a ghost, catching hold of three of the bottles. He quickly tucked them under his leg, just in time, as the attendant finished the other side of the aisle and began to serve him and his brother. His heart pounded, and the adrenaline surged as she leaned over to hand Cam his meal.He was truly thrilled; she was so close he could almost feel the heat from her breast on his face, and the smell of her perfume was intoxicating.
He had to concentrate to keep his body from responding in embarrassing ways. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to imagine anything else than his proximity to the attendant, his raging hormones almost winning the battle.
“Are you okay? You look flushed,” the attendant asked Kyle. The shockwave of embarrassment quelled any physical response his body may have been considering. His eyes shot open, startled back to reality. He recovered as well as he could, mumbling something about being hungry, and took his tray with shaky hands.
She made her way further up the aisle, sparing him any more embarrassment. Kyle glanced at Cam, who was busy dissecting his ‘lab tray’ of food, too intent on it to pay any attention to him. Now that the coast was clear, he began extracting the mini bottles from under his leg, cracked the cap as silently as possible, and then poured each one into the plastic cup of soda on his tray table. Phase one complete, he thought, then slammed the burning liquid down his throat. Vodka. He almost choked and spit out the vile liquid, half wondering what he was thinking until the burning started to wane, and the warmth began to feel good, causing his cheeks to flush again.
The heady liquid hit his adolescent body like a sledgehammer. The most alcohol he had ever had was in the cough syrup his mother gave him when he was sick, and that wasn’t enough to make him feel anything. He now understood what ‘buzzed’ meant and felt. He leaned forward and stashed the empty bottles in the pocket of the seat in front of him, his crime going unnoticed, and then ate his meal as if nothing had happened.
The pretty flight attendant began pushing the meal cart back to the galley. He watched her as she made her way back, accepting empty meal trays and plastic cups into her trash bag. Passing his seat, she stopped to take the refuse from the passengers behind him; he couldn’t help but indulge in another look at her posterior. Now infused with liquid bravery, the urge to touch her was uninhibited.
“What in the hell are you doing?” his father stage whispered, trying to be forceful without causing a scene, stopping Kyle mere inches away from touching her. The stoned-faced glare was all Kyle needed, and he sat back in his seat, pretending nothing had happened. He was grateful that the flight attendant was too busy with her duties to notice the near miss and his father’s rebuke. His father shook his head in wonder at Kyle’s behavior, but Kyle noticed his father glance at the attendant with an approving twitch of his eyebrow.
Feeling like he escaped an embarrassing situation and his father’s wrath, he closed his eyes to enjoy his buzz. Cam leaned over, pointing to the seat pocket in front of Kyle, and asked their father why Kyle got to have the little bottle drinks and he didn’t get any. That fucker, Kyle thought, knowing he was busted. His father leaned over and emptied the seat pockets of the contraband, “First of all, you’re grounded; you’re going to be lucky to see the light of day this entire trip! Go to sleep, and we will discuss this further when we get off this plane.” He said quietly through gritted teeth.
Kyle knew that he was in it deep. When his father turned that particular shade of red and didn’t yell, he knew that his father was past the point of no return and was only keeping his cool because they were in public. It’s all Cam’s fault, too. Little creep. I’ll get him back, he thought. He leaned his head back and tried to sleep for the rest of the flight.
The drive from the Airport to the cottage was tense. Kyle got the verbal thrashing he was promised after they landed, and his parents did not seem to want to let it go. It was going to be a long summer. Being grounded in Nowheresville isn’t much of a punishment, at least, he thought.But he didn’t want his parents to know he felt that way. He was mad at himself. He knew he was ruining the trip; they usually had fun on road trips, playing car games and arguing over the radio stations.
They finally arrived at the cottage. It was exactly as Kyle remembered it. A quaint stone cottage that looked like it was built at the dawn of time. It was barely big enough for two people to live in, but who knows when, maybe a hundred years ago, someone had built a sizable addition off the back door., almost tripling the living space. Kyle’s ‘room’ was directly past the ‘back door,’ the first part of the addition right next to the washroom. There were about four steps leading down from the original cottage’s back door to his ‘room.’ His bed was a relic in itself. It was so old that it still had ropes supporting the mattress that needed to be tightened every so often to keep it from sagging like a hammock, reminding him of the origin of the saying ‘sleep tight.’
Everyone was tired and cranky from the long trip. They had made it; the frosty feelings seemed to be thawing, but Kyle didn’t want to press his luck and decided to take a nap after he helped unload the baggage from the car. He slumped on the creeky bed, not really wanting a nap, just the excuse it offered. Kyle lay back and rested quietly, staring around the familiar room, wondering how many people had lived there before and what was the history of the place. Something he didn’t care about when he was Cam’s age, but from his perspective now, being older, his interests were maturing as well.
He looked at the cobblestone wall of the cottage that separated it from the addition, tracing the grout between the stones with his eyes like a race track. Then, something he never noticed before caught his eye. Under the short steps that lead to his room, he saw what looked like the top of a wrought iron hinge poking up from the earth floor. His curiosity piqued, he crouched under the stairs and began poking around, brushing dirt away from the foundation, revealing more and more of the feature.
Before too long, he had excavated a foot down from the hinge; he now knew for certain that’s what it was, revealing an old wooden door, And found the upper part of a window that had one of those sliding covers on it like a prison door. He was getting excited now, and he could hear his parents in the front room opening a bottle of wine to officially start the vacation. It was a good thing, too, that would keep them preoccupied while he figured out his next steps.
He knew that he couldn’t clear enough soil away to open the door, provided it could even be opened after all these years, but he could focus on the window thing. He continued pushing dirt away, packing it as much as he could against the far end of the space under the stairs. He was happy he wasn’t any bigger under there since it was a tight space as it was. He cleared more and more until the entire window plate was plain to see. But now there was a new problem. On the right side of the window plate was a loop and an ancient paddle lock.
This was going to be a problem. The key had probably been lost long ago, and the lock, covered in dirt and grime, was more than likely rusted shut, or the locking mechanism itself might be too packed with dirt to open. The steel of the lock looked pretty good, giving him hope if he ever found the key. He gave it some thought and decided that what he needed was a prybar. He could still hear his parents enjoying their bottle of wine. It was going to be a long summer, and he had time.
He dusted himself off and cleaned up some of the evidence of the excavation. Tucked under the stairs, where no one looked, he was certain that his project would go unnoticed. He had to go look for something to take care of the lock. Of course, finding the keys would be optimum, but that was a long shot in the extreme. He could only guess, but the ballpark figure he would throw out there was at least one hundred years, but honestly, he felt it was much longer; it could be three hundred or more easy, and the probability of that one key still hanging around was a pipe dream. Find a prybar.
His parents made things easy for him, though they didn’t know it. They spontaneously decided to go to the lake that was on the edge of the property. The beautiful thing was that it was too close to justify driving and just far enough away to take a little time to hike there. Kyle had hours to work once he came up with a good enough reason to stay at the cottage. But that problem solved itself again. I guess being grounded means I have to stay home to be punished. He thought as his parents and Cam headed out, carrying a backpack of snacks and towels; Cam more dragged his then carried.
And suddenly, Kyle was alone; he didn’t even have time to pretend to be sad about being left out. He waited patiently until his family was out of sight; then, he was all about the search. He started in the main room, which would have been the only room in the cottage had it not been for the addition. Nothing he found could be used as a prybar, and of course, nothing close to a set of keys that would magically be the exact right ones he needed.
He still felt good he had enough time to keep searching. Kyle felt dumb, as it occurred to him that the tool shed the name says it all, dummy, should have exactly what he needed. Kyle almost ran to the tool shed; it looked as if it was built in the Middle Ages as well. The rickety old door of the shed looked as if it only needed one more stiff breeze to push it off its hinges. Kyle carefully pulled the door open, its rust hinges screaming for mercy. No one had been in here for decades, at the very least, and the tools looked like they hadn’t been touched for longer. An even coating of rust and dust coated everything.
He stepped in, kicking up dust, and looked around. He didn’t even recognize some of the tools, and some he only saw in pictures or drawings. Did people actually use scythes? He wondered. He rummaged around, finally finding what he was looking for the prybar, a catspaw; he recalled its name but, for the life of him, couldn’t say where he had learned it. Renewed excitement came over as he rushed to the cellar door, ready to get to the next part of the project. The curiosity burned inside him.
He eagerly stabbed the catspaw into the lock and wrenched. The lock, clasp, and hinge slid out like butter, as the decaying old wood had long ago lost any strength it had once had. Had he tried before, he would have realized all he needed to do was pull on the darn thing, not the tool or key required. He shrugged and looked at the panel covering the window opening on the door. As easy as the lock, the panel that was supposed to slide out of the way peeled away from the door like a shedding skin.
He was half expecting a puff of air, like from in a movie when they opened an old Egyptian tomb, but there was nothing as exciting as that, just the soft thump of the panel on the soil. The panel was gone, revealing a rectangular black void behind it. There was a pleasant earthen musty smell that reminded Kyle of fall, anything left in there to rot and leave an oder had done so long ago. Having made good progress with the door, Kyle’s curiosity was on overdrive. He reached in his pocket for his phone; the flashlight function was a handy thing to always have with you. You never know when you are going to need to peek into an ancient root cellar. Kyle thought with a grin, his excitement making him giddy.
He panned the light from his phone in a wide arc, but the room was bigger than it seemed, and it was hard to see past his own hand. He decided to take a video, which made more sense the more he thought about it; he would want a video anyway if only to show his friends back in the States. He caught a glint of something as he was pulling his phone back to switch on the video recorder. He quickly started recording and shoved his hand back in to see if he could get a better look at whatever had caught his eye.
It was far easier to see what was going on in the dark room, watching the screen on his phone. Now that he could see better, he panned left and right, trying to get a good video of the room. There it was again, the glint that caught his eye the first time. It seemed like something shiny at first, but this time, it was a pale white movement in the far corner. A little startled, it was eyes playing tricks; he quickly pointed the phone in that direction., but it was gone.
The front door slamming jolted Kyle; he was so engrossed with the cellar he had lost track of time, or they came home early. Jerking his hand back at the sound of the door slamming, that twerp Cam, the phone slipped. “Fuck!” he blurted as his phone landed softly on the floor of the cellar. He crawled back out from under the stairs with a vengeance on his mind, his heart still pounding from getting startled. “Cam! Get in here!” Kyle yelled into the front room. Cam came trotting over, wondering what Kyle was so worked up over.
Cam came to the doorway out of breath and sweaty. “Where are you?” he huffed a gulp of air between breaths as he looked around the seemingly empty room.
“Down here,” Kyle said, sounding desperate. “I need your help.” Cam groaned at the request, but being the youngest meant he was told what to do by everyone. He dropped the flippers and snorkel he had come back to the cottage to fetch. He jumped down the stairs with a loud thump, then crouched under the stairs with his brother. “Whoa, what are you doing?” he said, looking at the mound of dirt that was heaved into a pile. “I don’t think you are supposed to do that. You’re gonna get into trouble! He said with a sing-song voice.
“It’s really cool. I found this old door; check it out!”
Cam crawled in next to Kyle to take a better look, imagining a secret treasure horde. “Wow, it’s so dark, though,” Cam said apprehensively.
“I dropped my phone, trying to see what’s in there. You need to get it.” Kyle said as he formed a plan in his mind. Cam was just small enough to squeeze through the opening. Cam peeked over the edge and looked down; he could see the faint glow of the phone screen sitting face down on the dirt floor.
“I will just hold your legs and lower you down, easy peasy. It’ll be quick!” Kyle coaxed his brother.
“I’m not going in there,” Cam said, shaking his head.
“Alright then, I’m gonna keep all the treasure myself. He said, taunting Cam. “There will be nothing to it.
Cam groaned in submission and lay down on his belly, preparing for the descent. Kyle grabbed his ankles, and Cam began to scoot forward. Cam reached out, stretching. His little body was just inches too short to reach. He stretched farther, kicking his feet for traction, causing Kyle to start to lose his grip. “Stop squirming, Twerp, I’m going to drop you if you don’t stop!” As soon as he said that, Cam slipped out of his grasp with a soft thump. “Ow!” he complained as he scrambled to his feet. He looked up at his brother, reaching through the small opening. “Come on, grab my phone!” Kyle said urgently. Cam bent down and grabbed the phone, its lights temporarily blinding Cam in the darkness. He covered his eyes and blindly reached toward Kyle but was nowhere close to the handoff.
Something shuffled. A small movement on the far side of the room sent a shockwave of fear through little Cam. It was so sudden that Cam almost peed himself and was now frantic to get out. He tossed the phone through the window slit, sending it sliding past the stairs in a skitter. “Get me out! Get me out!” Cam cried as Kyle stretched to reach him. Their hands met, and Kyle began to pull. Cam’s chest hurt as the bottom of the window plate scraped along as he was lifted.
Cam was pulled to his waist now, kicking and squirming as he tried to inch his way out of the opening. He futilely kicked again, brushing past something that wasn’t there before sending him into complete panic. “There is something in here; something touched me!” He cried out. Kyle heaved back hard, dragging Cam out of the hole, his legs almost completely free. Cam’s eyes went wide, and he went silent. Time seemed to stop at that moment. Kyle watched, stunned, as Cam was jerked suddenly back through the window slit, making a stifled squeak as he went through.
Kyle scrambled back to the opening, his protective instinct overriding his fear. “Cam!” he yelled as he poked his head in as far as he could, trying to see Cam. Nothing, it was completely black in there. Kyle screamed for Cam again, then listened to see if he could tell where Cam was. All he heard was a strange slurping sound that sent a jolt of fear that was so strong his bladder let loose. Then, there was a sharp cracking noise as the cellar door gave way in a landslide, pulling Kyle in with it.
An hour later, Cam and Kyle’s parents had been taking too long to get back to the lake. They slogged their way back to the cottage.
“Cam!, Kyle? Where are you?” Kyle’s father yelled, not sure if he should be angry or worried. They went into the cottage calling out but heard nothing. Getting nervous, they went to the back room. Their mother looked in and saw fresh dirt scattered across the floor and Kyle’s phone, still gleaming and still recording. She walked over and picked it up with shaking hands, afraid to watch what was recorded. She stopped the recording and hit play as something shuffled under the stairs behind her.
Phantom black 4 (conclusion)
Finished, not polished. But I think it’s enough to get a good story out of it. Of course, I will add it to the 30-minute Shivers collection, a collection of my horror stories that I will eventually publish as a book.
I decided to just keep adding to the story as I go, and posting the entire thing, rather than just the separate parts. For new readers or those that haven’t read it yet, I wanted to make it easy to consume the entire thing at once…
If you enjoy this please give it a like and feel free to comment!
Phantom black
The scientists fiddled with the device with excited banter, enthusiastic about their apparent success. The device looked like an over-engineered paint spray gun. One of the scientists adjusted a setting on the machine, causing a pleasant harmonic tone to emanate from it. The other scientist poured a black viscous liquid into a small vat attached to the instrument with tubes, hoses, and electrical connections. The first scientist starts speaking into a recorder, taking verbal notes with a shaky, excited voice. “Four-thirty two hertz to four forty hertz seems to be the correct resonant frequencies to properly align the filaments. We have achieved approximately….” He looks up at the other scientist and nods slightly, prompting the missing information.
“Ninety-nine point nine, nine percent.” The other scientist reads off of a computer monitor in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Yes, right. Ninety-nine point nine, nine percent of photon absorption.” He continued, “We have found with the increased amplitude and voltage, the harmonic frequencies will correctly align the carbon nanotubes vertically, giving us an additional twenty percent efficiency.” He said, his voice still quivering with obvious exhilaration.
The scientist that poured the fluid into the contraption turned to a wall with a stark white square painted across its surface, then began to spray. A five-foot blob of black paint appeared on the wall. The scientist had to stop at that point as vertigo overcame him, and he swayed on unstable feet. To look into the blackness was to see a complete void that lied to his brain and made him dizzy as if falling into a never-ending hole.
He set the sprayer down and stumbled to the other scientist that was busy monitoring the equipment. He laughed as he walked drunkenly back to the monitors. “I can’t believe it! I felt like I was going to fall into it for a minute!” he said, finally reaching the desk where he could grab hold and steady his feat.
The beam of light pierced the veil. Like an ugly knife wound tearing a rough, misshapen hole in the darkness. The light touched the creature’s tentacle, a warm tingle drawing its attention. Confused and curious, it extended its tentacles, reaching, feeling the jagged edges of the opening. It wrapped its tentacles around it with more confusion about the nature of this new thing in its world, then examined the edges, feeling its solidity. Reaching in and gaining purchase on the inside surface, it began to pull itself through, marveling at the warm tingly, yet slightly stinging sensation on its skin.
Tentacles wavered through the opening, touching the air and feeling the strange tingle of the light. As it pushed deeper into the new expanse, it could feel a vibration of sound emanating from inside this new space. It waved a tentacle sniffing the air, searching for the source of the vibrations. With so many new sensations, the creature grew eager and more curious. It pulled itself through the hole, sniffing and feeling.
With their backs turned away from the black-painted surface, the scientists quickly prepared their device for the new round of testing; the creature probed a tentacle towards them. The probing tentacle extended toward the sound vibrations and detected a unique sensation that triggered a biological response; Hunger.
The tentacle wrapped around one of the scientists and pulled closer to the creature. Strange and delightful sensations came from it. It was warm and squishy and made sound vibrations that pleasantly tickled its senses. A warm gush of liquid poured out when it was pulled apart, metallic and salty. The creature pulled the pieces into its beak-like maw, enjoying the warm salty, and chewy sensations. It was intoxicating. Its first taste of this new food unleashed an unapologetic yearning for more as it felt the nutrients provided a near-explosive growth.
The sounds the other scientist made while the creature devoured his comrade intensified. The creature hesitated despite its sudden craving for the new sensations of the food source, but the sounds of it were so compelling it wasn’t sure it wanted it to stop. The creature decided to split the difference by plucking the other scientist up but only pulling off and eating one appendage at a time. This seemed to work as the appendage tore away; the sound reached a pitch that sent shivers of ecstasy through the creature’s body. To the creature’s disappointment, the sounds abruptly stopped after the warm salty liquid stopped draining from the stump end of the appendage.
It finished consuming the still delicious treat when the door burst open. Several people rushed into the room to investigate the screams that echoed through the facility’s hallways. They skidded to a halt just inside the laboratory as the carnage stunned them into indecision. The creature didn’t hesitate and snatched up the first one that entered the room and sucked it into its maw. They screamed.
The creature stretched out into the hallway with fluid, almost vapor-like movements exploring the hallway. It could feel the vibrations of the footfalls of these new treats all around it, behind doors or around corners. It was glad for the new space to explore as its size increased with explosive growth. Every morsel it consumed is added to its now immense bulk and hunger.
It found a few more treats in a room at the end of the hall. The pleasant sound they made drew its attention to them. It enjoyed the first, particularly plump and juicy; its lower baritone screams added to the enjoyment like a savory spice. It allowed the increasing volume and intensity of the screams of the other two to carry on for a moment as it indulged in the cacophony of their anguish and fear until it could no longer resist the craving of the flesh.
The walls and hallway of the building became confining as it continued to consume more and more. It reached farther with a tentacle until it breached the front entrance. Finding more freedom of movement, it nearly gushed through the doorway to the outside. There were many new things outside the facility, strobing lights and new sound vibrations. These new sounds were not pleasant, like the noise the prey made. The frequency of the sirens was annoying and almost painful, dampening the joy of gluttony it was feeling.
It extended a tentacle outward to the nearest the offending vehicle and wiped it out of existence in one swipe of the now enormous appendage. This seemed to excite the human creatures. They reacted by flinging metal fragments from small pipes that they carried. These projectiles didn’t penetrate the creature and only served to further its annoyance. It swiped its tentacle back the other way, scooping up a vast swath of the prey creatures, then it sucked them into its beaked maw with a wooshing sound.
The influx of biomass added to its bulk, encouraging new and faster growth. The changes surprised the creature as it felt a metamorphosis deep within it. New appendages began to sprout, and its body became more adapted, evolving from an amorphous glob of tentacles to a more distinct form. The new budding appendages started taking shape, expanding outward, fan-like.
The creature flexed these new appendages once, causing an enormous blast of wind dispersing many human creatures and their devices. Incoming flying machines spouting metal projectiles and explosive missiles avoided the gust initially, but the stinging sensations of these new attacks angered the beast.
It stretched its wings and flapped again, stirring more hurricane-force winds, and began to lift, sending many flying machines spiraling toward the ground. It flew high into the sky despite the enormous mass it now had; it rose like a titanic blimp into the atmosphere. This high vantage gave it a perspective f this world, and it was drawn to the shining light of a large city, where it knew it could feast on these creatures.
The flying machines continued pestering the creature, but it barely noticed anymore. They were dispatched with a flap of its enormous wings as its avarice for the human flesh drew it closer to the city. It swooped down and could hear the delightful screams and almost taste the fear, only to encourage its gluttony. It opened its maw, sending its tentacles to snatch up hundreds of the humans, then slurped them into its awaiting gullet. Unsated, it continued, its gluttonous path rejoicing in the anguished screams of its prey as it went, then it saw it. It saw a sizeable oval-shaped building, a stadium. The roar of the crowd beckoned it like a dinner bell….
Phantom Black (3)
A few more paragraphs. Hey, this is how my brain does stuff, a little here, a dash there. One reason why it takes me so long to produce anything, I am busy doing every other thing. This little short horror is planned on being entered into a project, “30 minute shivers” a collection of short horror stories. The final version may end up completely different, Im just putting thoughts down.
Phantom Black
The scientists fiddled with the device with excited banter, enthusiastic about their apparent success. The device looked like an over-engineered paint spray gun. One of the scientists adjusted a setting on the machine, causing a pleasant harmonic tone to emanate from it. The other scientist poured a black viscous liquid into a small vat attached to the instrument with tubes, hoses, and electrical connections. The first scientist starts speaking into a recorder, taking verbal notes with a shaky, excited voice. “Four-thirty two hertz to four forty hertz seems to be the correct resonant frequencies to properly align the filaments. We have achieved approximately….” He looks up at the other scientist and nods slightly, prompting the missing information.
“Ninety-nine point nine, nine percent.” The other scientist reads off of a computer monitor in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Yes, right. Ninety-nine point nine, nine percent of photon absorption.” He continued, “We have found with the increased amplitude and voltage, the harmonic frequencies will correctly align the carbon nanotubes vertically, giving us an additional twenty percent efficiency.” He said, his voice still quivering with obvious exhilaration.
The scientist that poured the fluid into the contraption turned to a wall with a stark white square painted across its surface, then began to spray. A five-foot blob of black paint appeared on the wall. The scientist had to stop at that point as vertigo overcame him, and he swayed on unstable feet. To look into the blackness was to see a complete void that lied to his brain and made him dizzy as if falling into a never-ending hole.
He set the sprayer down and stumbled to the other scientist, that was busy monitoring the equipment. He laughed as he walked drunkenly back to the monitors. “I can’t believe it! I felt like I was going to fall into it for a minute!” he said, finally reaching the desk where he could grab hold and steady his feat.
The beam of light pierced the veil. Like an ugly knife wound tearing a rough, misshapen hole in the darkness. The light touched the creature’s tentacle, a warm tingle drawing its attention. Confused and curious, it extended its tentacles, reaching, feeling the jagged edges of the opening. It wrapped its tentacles around it with more confusion about the nature of this new thing in its world, then examined the edges, feeling its solidity. Reaching in and gaining purchase on the inside surface, it began to pull itself through, marveling at the warm tingly, yet slightly stinging sensation on its skin.
Tentacles wavered through the opening, touching the air and feeling the strange tingle of the light. As it pushed deeper into the new expanse, it could feel a vibration of sound emanating from inside this new space. It waved a tentacle sniffing the air, searching for the source of the vibrations. With so many new sensations, the creature grew eager and more curious. It pulled itself through the hole, sniffing and feeling.
With their backs turned away from the black painted surface, the scientists quickly prepared their device for the new round of testing; the creature probed a tentacle towards them. The probing tentacle extended toward the sound vibrations and detected a unique sensation that triggered a biological response; Hunger.
The tentacle wrapped around one of the scientists and pulled closer to the creature. Strange and delightful sensations came from it. It was warm and squishy and made sound vibrations that pleasantly tickled its senses. A warm gush of liquid poured out when it was pulled apart, metallic and salty. The creature pulled the pieces into its beak-like maw, enjoying the warm salty and chewy sensations. It was intoxicating. Its first taste of this new food unleashed an unapologetic yearning for more as it felt the nutrients provided a near-explosive growth.
The sounds the other scientist made while the creature devoured his comrade intensified. The creature hesitated despite its sudden craving for the new sensations of the food source, but the sounds of it were so compelling it wasn’t sure it wanted it to stop. The creature decided to split the difference by plucking the other scientist up but only pulling off and eating one appendage at a time. This seemed to work as the appendage tore away; the sound reached a pitch that sent shivers of ecstasy through the creature’s body. To the creature’s disappointment, the sounds abruptly stopped after the warm salty liquid stopped draining from the stump end of the appendage.
It finished consuming the still delicious treat when the door burst open. Several people rushed into the room to investigate the screams that echoed through the facility’s hallways. They skidded to a halt just inside the laboratory as the carnage stunned them into indecision. The creature didn’t hesitate and snatched up the first one that entered the room and sucked it into its maw. They screamed.
The creature stretched out into the hallway with fluid, almost vapor-like movements exploring the hallway. It could feel the vibrations of the footfalls of these new treats all around it, behind doors or around corners. It was glad for the new space to explore as its size increased with explosive growth. Every morsel it consumed is added to its now immense bulk and hunger.
It found a few more treats in a room at the end of the hall. The pleasant sound they made drew its attention to them. It enjoyed the first, particularly plump and juicy; its lower baritone screams added to the enjoyment like a savory spice. It allowed the increasing volume and intensity of the screams of the other two to carry on for a moment as it indulged in the cacophony of their anguish and fear until it could no longer resist the craving of the flesh.
The walls and hallway of the building became confining as it continued to consume more and more. It reached farther with a tentacle until it breached the front entrance. Finding more freedom of movement, it nearly gushed through the doorway to the outside. There were many new things outside the facility, strobing lights and new sound vibrations. These new sounds were not pleasant, like the noise the prey made. The frequency of the sirens was annoying and almost painful, dampening the joy of gluttony it was feeling.
It extended a tentacle outward to the nearest the offending vehicle and wiped it out of existence in one swipe of the now enormous appendage. This seemed to excite the human creatures. They reacted by flinging metal fragments from small pipes that they carried. These projectiles didn’t penetrate the creature and only served to further its annoyance. It swiped its tentacle back the other way, scooping up a huge swath of the prey creatures, then it sucked them into its beaked maw with a wooshing sound.
Hand-prints of Darkness 