Saturday, 27 October 2012

Excerpts, Stories and Poems for CoffinHop

I’m away today at the Hal-Con Sci-fi Convention (happening in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada) so I’m leaving you with some creepy stories, excerpts and poems to keep you amused. I’ll be back later this evening to check out any comments.

Here’s a scary story for you:

Margot Wants To Play

Margot tugged her mother’s skirt.  “Come play with me, Mommy.”
“I can’t right now dear, I’m making dinner.  Why don’t you go read a book or watch the TV.”
“Cause I don’t wanna watch the dumb old TV or read a dumb, stupid book.” Margot whispered, safely out of earshot of her mother.  She sighed and took her ball outside.
Across the street Mr McNally waved at her.  “Hi, Margot.”
“Would you like to play with me, Mr. McNally?”  She held up her ball.
“Sorry sweetie, I can’t.  Got to water my lawn.”
Margot pouted as she watched him stroll over to his garden hose and turn on the water.  She was distracted for a few minutes by the pretty spray of water, before she moved on down the street, idly bouncing her ball.
A few minutes later she saw her friend Dave with his bicycle.
“Dave, do you want to play-”
“Can’t, going down to the arcade!”  His shout flew past as he whizzed by on his bike.
Margot stamped her foot.  “Nobody wants to play with me!”
Just then she saw a shiny thing.  It stuck up from the ground, just behind Dave’s back fence.  Strange, she didn’t see it there a minute ago.  But still, it needed to be investigated.  She tucked her ball under arm and raced to see her treasure.
When she got there, Margot stood over it and frowned.  It didn’t look like much, just a silver stick, stuck in the dirt.  Yet, it was her stick, she knew it.  Margot bent and wrapped her chubby fingers around it.  Her hand tingled and she felt giddy as she pulled her shiny prize from the earth.  For a moment she was happy, just for a moment the object was hers, and she held it tight.
Your name is Margot, isn’t it?
Margot blinked and looked down at the polished item in her hand. It sounded like it talked to her.
I did talk to you, Margot. I want to play with you.
“You can talk? You’re a talking-” She hesitated a moment as she wondered what to call her new toy until she remembered something her father read to her in a story. “A talking sep-step-stepter. That’s right, a royal stepter, and you can talk.”
Yes, Margot, I can talk, but I’m not a sceptre. I’m inside the rod you’re holding.
“Inside?” Margot held up her treasure and took a closer look. There did seem to be a top that might open.
That’s right Margot, open the rod and let me out. Then we can play together.
“You’ll play with me if I let you out?”
Yes, I’ll play with you. I like to play with little girls.
The thought of a new friend made Margot happy. “Okay.” She twisted the lid with her little plump fingers until it popped off with a snap. A shimmer of light flooded outward, followed by a thick, crimson smoke. Margot dropped the rod in surprise as this cloud of colour hovered around her.
Thank you, Margot. Now we can play.
The smoke whirled in the air, a translucent, intangible acrobat and Margot laughed. With her pretty voice still drifting on the air, this vaporous creature lunged, filling her open mouth, swelling down her throat, pouring into her nose and blinding her eyes. Her laughter stopped and Margot fell to her knees, her arms flailing, her now sightless eyes filling with tears. She choked on her own breath and fear, her only screams the ones that echoed in her mind. As the last of the strange mist invaded her body, her thoughts, her world became an empty nothing...


Margot walked down an empty street, the only sound the bouncing of her red, rubber ball.  The bright sunshine of the day had given way to the dusky gloom of nightfall, the time when all children should be at home with their parents.

So why was this little child playing in the lane, all alone?  And why was her neighbourhood so quiet?  Where were all the adults?

Margot paused in her game, and stopped under a streetlamp; the glow of the bulb illuminated her features. She smiled, a satisfied grin full of secrets.  It was a grin of razor-sharp teeth, and it reached towards wide, yellow eyes and the barbed horns on her forehead.  She giggled and bounced her ball, staring down the street into the night.

“Come play with me.”



Here’s an excerpt from Gothic Cavalcade:

The men carrying her lifted her and then deposited her body into a glass tank resting within the stone circle. Althea didn’t resist, couldn’t resist; her body still wouldn’t move. The cover slid into place, enclosing her in the tank. Slowly her prison began to fill with a curious liquid, inexplicably materialising from within the glass container. It churned around her, not water, but a black, icy fluid, thick and sticky.
Bitter, aching cold invaded her bones as the sluice seeped over her skin and her clothes. It oozed into her nose, mouth, and eyes until she submerged in the viscous substance. Althea felt panic, feared she would drown, but she found she could breathe. She inhaled sharp gasps of frigid wash as the emulsion flowed down her throat, expanding into her lungs. It crawled into the very fibre of her, shutting out sight and sound. It engorged every sense in darkness and frost, marinating through her body as it permeated into tissue and blood. She wanted to shriek, but her throat was full of fluid. She could only jerk in the throes of frozen suffering, as her body floated in glacial, silent isolation.
Images flickered under her eyelids, colours of deep crimson, indigo, and amethyst, and flashes of cruel brown eyes. A voice whispered in her memory, the words distant and indistinct, carrying the emotions of fear, anger, and sorrow on its breath. A scream, primal and furious, howled inside her raging for expulsion, but she stayed silent, the ferocity still locked against the world. Her body shuddered in powerful spasms and the tank vibrated violently. It rocked in the throes of her body’s reactions for- an eternity, minutes, hours? She did not know.



And for last, a Halloween Poem:

All Hallows

Moon
Ascends high
Time ticks midnight

Storms
Crackle arcane
Bearing odd whispers

Wisps
Of malice
Rouse in shadows

Hunters
Haunt nightfall
Worlds stand quiet

Silent
No breath
Like a crypt

Until
A shriek
Breaks the hush

Panic
In confusion
A hopeless flight

Blood
Flows scarlet
Staining the kill


And in honour of today's short story and poem I'm including some freebie links from Smashwords:

Even the Paranormal Play Sports (a flash fiction story)
Existence (a flash fiction story)
Twisted Shorties (an anthology of stories and poems)

These three books are also available free from B&N Nook, iTunes, Kobo and Sony


And remember to visit the other CoffinHoppers, for more fun horror happenings.  Check out the list and the bottom of my blog for the participants.  And be sure to check out the Coffin Hop Store for more creepy goodies. 


7 comments:

AJ said...

I really like the come play with me story--quick, easy to read with a satisfyingly creepy end.

the happy horror writer said...

I hope the convention was a lot of fun! I keep meaning to make it out to one... Maybe in 2013!

Happy Coffin Hopping!

-aniko

A. F. Stewart said...

Thanks A. J., I liked how that story turned out myself.

A. F. Stewart said...

The convention was quite fun. I'll be blogging about it on Monday.

DarcNina said...

I agree with AJ, this was a f=great read - thank you for sharing it with us!

DarcNina said...

oops - sorry about the typo - it's not meant to have an f= in there! Late night hopping... not for the feint of heart, or spastic of keyboard! My apologies!

A. F. Stewart said...

Don't worry about it. What's a few "f=" typos between friends.

Subscribe Now:

Search This Blog

Monthly Pageviews