Horror · Uncategorized · writing

Itch (working title)

Had to get this out, even though its not my WIP. But after a nice camping trip, this story came to mind.

CAUTION Graphic content ahead, you have been warned

Itch Part 1.

                Bruno drove down the unpaved road probably faster than he should have been. The tires splashed water from deep potholes far off the road into the swamp of the Florida Everglades. The service truck wobbled dangerously close to toppling over after he avoided a particularly treacherous-looking puddle as he careened onto the home’s driveway that was last on his list for the day.

                He skidded to an abrupt stop and shut off the engine. He put on the tattered ball cap with the logo of “Billy Bobs Air conditioning and plumbing”  and picked up a clipboard with the same logo, then climbed out of the truck. A blast of hot sticky, humid air washed over him as he stepped out and walked the twenty or so feet to the front door.

                The door opened before he could reach the entrance to knock, and an even warmer blast of air hit him from inside the house. Yup, definitely the right place, He thought. The door opened wider, and a tall thin woman with long dark hair stepped into view. “Miss, Bradly?” he asked as he looked down at the clipboard to verify her name and address. He could see her bare feet as he looked at the board, and his eyes followed them up her toned legs until his view was cut off by a thin bathrobe.

                “Oh, thank god! I thought you would never get here.” She exclaimed in a way of answering him. “It’s right out back.” She said, pointing to the house.

                She led the way around the side of her house to the broken air conditioner he was there to repair. Her bathrobe clung to her body, accentuating the curve of her hips. Damn, sometimes I really love my job, Bruno thought as he watched her hips sway as she walked.

                “Well, here it is, piece of shit that it is.” She said, motioning to the silent air conditioner.

“Uh huh, yup, these models are finicky; probably why they discontinued them about 5 years ago,” He said knowingly. “she’s not in bad condition overall, just needs a boost of coolant, more than likely.” He went on as he unscrewed a panel from the side.  

                I’ll be inside, sweating my balls off; just holler if ya need anything,” she said as she turned back to go inside. Bruno glanced again at her shapely hips as she walked away. Shook his head from side to side as if he couldn’t; believe his luck with such an attractive client.

                Bruno was feeling pretty good about himself. He managed to keep his eyes off her, for the most part, only a quick glance. He could indulge just a little and still not break his promise to himself.

He had been doing great. He hadn’t missed a single session with his therapist and has kept up on his journal. You know, really putting in the work, and he felt that he was passing this test. He voluntarily started going to a therapist; he knew that his sexual addiction was getting worse and he thought that he would be proactive. Don’t want to be one of those guys that eventually do something stupid and get thrown in prison, was his thought.

                A slight stinging sensation snapped him out of his thoughts as he saw a massive mosquito still swelling with blood as it sucked at his hand. He slapped hard, spurting blood from the engorged bug. God damn, that has to be the biggest damn skeeter I’ve ever seen. He thought, wiping blood onto his coveralls.

                He returned to his truck and brought back a coolant tank to refill the air conditioner and finish off the day. He wrapped up the last of the repairs, thankful it was an easy fix, and went to the front door. It was too hot, too sticky, and a cold beer was calling his name. His last call for the day, She is a beauty almost done; he could just about taste the beer. The door was ajar and he could only see a sliver of light coming from the window as he knocked with the corner of his clipboard. “All finished up,” he shouted through the crack as the sound of the air conditioner hummed to life in the distance.

                “Come on in.”She shouted back from what he assumed was her kitchen. He absentmindedly scratched at the swelling mosquito bite on his hand as he pushed through the door and stepped in. Miss Bradly walked from the kitchen holding 2 glasses of ice cold water, the condensation dripping from the glass in the heat. “You should start to feel it anytime now.” He said, motioning his head toward the air vent in the ceiling. She handed him the glass of water and noticed the mosquito bite on his hand. “Oh, looks like they got ya.” She said as he took a sip.

                 “Uh yeah, biggest bugger I’ve ever seen.”

“Let me get you some hydrocortisone for that. It’s gonna itch like crazy in a few minutes if you don’t get it on quick.” She said helpfully.

                “Oh, why, thank you.” He replied, genuinely grateful, and took another sip of water as she walked down the hallway to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The bathroom light showed through her thin bathrobe, silhouetting her naked body underneath. He gave in and indulged another avarice look at her body as she walked, feeling himself stiffen and his heart quicken at the sight. He quickly looked away as she turned around and came back with a tube of medication. She handed it to him with a smile and said, “I go through a lot of this stuff around here, but it’s been pretty bad this year with all the heat; I swear, they just keep getting bigger and bigger.”

                He squeezed a dollop of the white paste and rubbed it on the increasingly itchy bite, feeling it quell it almost immediately. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.” He said in relief.

“You wouldn’t mind, would you?” She said, motioning to her back; I got a bit right in the middle of my shoulder blades; I swear they know exactly where I can’t reach, don’t ya know?” She turned away from him and let the robe slide off her shoulder to reveal her back. A nasty mosquito bite the size of a silver dollar was dead center of her shoulder blades.

                Bruno was stunned for a moment, not sure what he should do. His first thought was that this was wildly inappropriate, and if HR caught wind of it, he would possibly get fired for the liability alone. His second thought was, almost jokingly as inappropriate,  Dear penthouse forum… I can’t believe it happened to me… He smiled at himself for that.He squeezed a large glob on his hand and gently put it on the bite. She inhaled sharply, and he felt her skin turn gooseflesh for a second.

                “Oh, that’s cold..” she exclaimed through gritted teeth as he rubbed the cream. Bruno reached up with the full intention of grabbing her shoulder to use as leverage to help him rub the cream. As he awkwardly reached, his hand brushed the side of her breast. His heart beat in his chest so hard it almost hurt as his vision blurred and his penis stiffened immediately. Bruno lost himself. All of a sudden, he felt as if in a dream, a haze or fog he could barely see past. As he watched, seemingly from out of body, a fat sweaty man in blue coveralls and a blue ball cap tore away her bathrobe and shoved her to the ground.

                He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He found himself lying on the ground. The room was dark but cool as the air conditioner hummed along. His hands were sticky, and his head hurt from a gash above his thick brow. He put his hands on the ground to heave himself off the ground. A sharp pain shot up through his hand as a shard of something sliced into it as he pushed himself up. “Ahh!” he screamed and sucked air between his teeth as more fresh blood dripped from his palm. Standing now, he looked around see broken ceramic pieced from a destroyed lamp  Must be why my head hurts.

                As he scanned around, he noticed a dark shape in front of the sofa. His heart lurched in his chest as he recognized her body. He felt the thrill, tantalizing and electric as the memory of his fingers brushing her breast, then the urgency. It wasn’t me,  it wasn’t me! I did the work, everything, I worked so hard, so this wouldn’t happen. He looked back at her crumpled body by the sofa. He could see better now; his eyes adjusted to the dark. There was so much blood everywhere. He could see smears of it all over the wood floor, handprints, and footprints. He could almost make out the scene in his mind just by looking at it. The end table by the sofa and its missing lamp, but why was there so much blood? He gingerly touched the gash above his eye; it hurt but was no longer bleeding. He looked closer at her and saw an enormous amount of blood on her back, her buttocks, and legs. He noticed bits and pieces of the ceramic peppered all over her in red splotches. The scene didn’t make sense to him until he saw a heavy glass ashtray cracked in half lying next to her hand.

                Bruno scratched the mosquito bite on his hand, which strangely brought him back to his senses. His eyes darted around the room as panic overtook him. They’re gonna know! Oh god, it’s so obvious! He frantically patted his pockets, searching for his keys; finding them in his front pocket, he bolted for the door and burst out into the night. He ran for his truck and jumped in, starting it before he had even pulled the door closed. He floored the pedal down, sending gravel to shower the house, and drove off in a manic daze.

Horror · Uncategorized · writing

Happy Monday

Back at it for us working-class people, the weekend is done now back to the grind. I hope Everyone enjoyed the story “Alone.” Let me know what you thought in the comments section!

Here is an idea I am workshopping. Its quick one, sort of flash fiction.. Have fun!


Phantom Black

The beam of light pierced the veil. Like an ugly knife wound tearing a rough, misshapen hole in the darkness. The light touched a tentacle of the creature, 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 slight stinging sensation on its skin.

                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 his head 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; gave us an additional twenty percent efficiency.” He said, his voice still quivering with obvious exhilaration.

                Tentacles wavered through the opening, touching the air 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.

Uncategorized

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

Its been a few days since I posted. Im currently doing training for work out of state and I thought I would have time to write some of the sequel, post in the blog daily and basically not miss a beat. Pro tip, Aerospace is complicated and training is intensive. Its literally rocket science, so you can get what Im saying. Lots of “homework ” and not much sleep, so everything I planned is out the door. I should be back to my regular routine Monday (but im not planning on it) lol

art · Emergence Collective · Horror · poetry · Uncategorized · writing

R&R Weekend

It’s Monday again, back to the routine of work, eat, sleep, repeat. Sadly, I live my life waiting for 2 days out of the week. Ever feel that the other 5 days should be just as fun? I did about as little as I could get away with this weekend. To steal a quote from Office space, “I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything I thought it could be. A little rest and relaxation. A big chunk of it was spent annihilating the bad guys on Battlefield 2042. Wasted time, if enjoyed, is not wasted. Now that I flushed away my weekend productivity, It’s time to get my brain in gear and write some shit. Even though I am not actively putting words down on digital paper, I am still rolling thoughts and ideas about the story. I have been thinking about two other stories that I am very excited to start, but I am restraining myself from starting those, or I will have too many things going (My usual MO) and never finish the first project. (Pretty much sums up my life)

Emergence Collective · Horror · Uncategorized · writing

Write as if you are an orphan.

I can’t remember where I heard that, but I think its harder than it sounds. Even though I write for myself, because I am compelled to, I think about who is reading it. Friends, family, strangers. But I think it inhibits the content of my writing, as I am always easing off the gas when it comes to graphic scenes of violence and sex. I, however, am an unabashed reader of those things, so Why can’t I write it? I sincerely applaud those that are brave enough to navigate those waters (as I stand on the shore looking on with envy). Maybe I will be brave enough to let loose a little one day.