Category Archives: Things That Go Bump In The Night

Just a collection of stories, poems, and other random writings that I’ve come up with over the years. Not for everyone but still a passion of mine.

An Angel Of Death Part 1: The Victim

John packs his suitcase calmly while his parents argue downstairs. The 12 year old boy had heard these disputes for as long as he can remember. Finally he’s had enough. The backhand from his father before being sent to his room was the last straw. That had made the decision easy. Tonight, John was going to rid himself of this house, this abusive family, and this downward spiraling lifestyle. John was finally going to run away.

As he scurried out his second story window, down on to the porch overhang and onto the ground he wonders where he will go and what he will do. He remembers the abandoned house 3 streets over. All of the foolish and impressionable kids younger than John say it’s haunted. That a ghost roams the halls of this house but John is smart enough to know better. There aren’t ghosts roaming the halls, only spiders. He finally reaches his destination. It’s only a temporary home, a shelter to protect him from the elements until he can figure out a long term plan. Upon opening the front door, John sees nothing but covered furniture and cobwebs. He flicks a light switch, nothing. He wanders around, guided only by the light streaming through the windows. He stumbles upon a staircase and ventures up it.

Upon arriving on the second floor John realizes that there is nothing special about this floor either. There are three bedrooms, covered in dust and cobwebs. Lamps, beds, couches, all covered with sheets and dust. In the hallway however, something else exists. After searching the rooms, John realizes there is a door on the ceiling, a door connected to a staircase that leads to the attic.

He pulls on the string and the staircase descends. He ventures upwards and realizes there is only one window in the attic. From that window there is enough light for John to realize that the attic is empty, except for one pedestal placed in the center of the room. John approaches the pedestal. There is a glimmering coin set upon it. He reaches for the coin and picks it up. There is a loud noise behind him. John spins around and realizes the staircase has collapsed. He is trapped in the attic of an abandoned house. Suddenly, smoke starts to rise up through the opening that once led to the second floor. John starts to panic. Flames start to creep into the attic and John realizes the severity of his situation. The house is burning from the ground up and he’s trapped on the top floor. He backs as far away from the opening as he can and is soon showered with glass.

“Hey kid! Jump onto the porch!” John looks out the window he has backed himself next to. Below him is a man waving his arms, trying to get his attention. He peeks over the window and sees an overhang, one similar to the one that allowed him to escape his own home earlier. He hops out of the window. “Jump! I’ll catch you!!” the man yells. John creeps towards the edge of the overhang, gathers all his courage, and leaps towards the man. He is caught, and saved from harm. The man lowers him to the ground and before John knows it they are surrounded by reporters and journalists praising the man for his courage and his heroism. John is questioned as well but after hours of interrogation they are allowed to return to their normal lives. John comes home to hugs and tears from both of his parents. He sees hope for his future in their reaction, he sees a new life, a better life, on the horizon.


Otherwordly Visitors

Could there be creatures way up there?

Waiting just beyond our reach?

Beings with heads of silver hair

And skin that has been bleached

Could they be watching us,

Simply studying the land?

Or are they just waiting for us

To make our final stand?

The Night

Venturing about at night can be a dangerous affair.  Long shadows become monsters creeping about.  Tree branches become hands knocking at the windows.  The most terrifying thing of all though, is within yourself.  Your imagination can be far worse than reality.  With your imagination, a simple mouse can become a hellish rat with red glowing eyes.  It can chase you through the house.  You think you have found safety in a closet, but you soon realize that you’ve been ensnared in cotton arms of terror.  You shriek, only to realize that your mouth has been drained of all moisture.  You escape the evil clutches of the cloth and exit the closet.  You look to your left.  There is an intruder in your house, staring at you.  You reach out your hand.  They do the same.  You see a bat lying on the floor and you pick it up.  Looking up you realize your opponent has found a similar weapon.  Your determination and resolve solidify.  This intruder will not be leaving your home alive.  You pull the bat back, ready to strike.  The person silently mimics you.  You lunge forward, striking at the intruder, only to be showered with glass.  When your imagination runs unchecked and the darkness creeps into your mind, you become your own worst enemy.

The Full Moon Phenomena

It is a savage creature.  A mixture of man and beast, of conscience and instinct.  It possesses a tormented soul whose voice pierces the night, bouncing off the glowing cause of its horrific transformation.  Its outward facade instills nothing but terror in those it encounters while its inner mind is constantly horrified at the terrors and pain it inflicts.

It starts with the fingers.  Before they are ordinary, unnoticeable pieces of flesh and bone.  They are no different in construction than that of a child’s.  What they become is far more terrifying.  The nails turn to black claws bent on rending flesh from bone and soul from body.  Brown fur sprouts from the fingers and palms, erasing the soft alabaster color of humanity.  The muscles pulse and ripple, as they too become monstrous.  Their strength multiplies tenfold.

The transformation continues up its arms.  First the fur, then the muscled physique.  The arms become a mixture of crimson and black.  They turn to indestructible bands of steel-like strength.  One squeeze from these hideous appendages can splinter trees and grind rock to nothing but powder to be blown about by the wind.

Its toes and feet shift much like its hands and arms have.  The nails become blacker than the night sky.  But unlike the night, who has stars to light the way, the nails possess a blackness that light nothing but the way to death.  Its legs become nothing but black hair and spring like tendons.  With these superhumanly unnatural legs, the beast can leap rivers and navigate through the forest without ever leaving the treetops.

The torso is the next piece to succumb to this terrible curse.  The beast painfully rips at the flesh of his previous form.  Underneath the skin lies the majority of the monsters strength.  The skin beneath its fur has become a leathery and impenetrable guard against all but the sharpest blades.  The hair on its back standing on end to show a heightened state of awareness.  Most noticeable is the silver glint of the mane.  It runs across the shoulders, down the spine,  and ends at the small of its back; a sign of his elder status within the pack.

Finally, the face begins to turn.  His hair flows from the skull to partially mask the horrific event.  Through glimpses the transformation can be seen.  The nose extends to become a snout of spectacular capabilities.  Its lips spread to show yellow, dagger-like, teeth.  Its chin recesses to become part of its elongated neck.  The ears become pointed and hyper-sensitive.  They are able to hear a rustling mouse a mile away, or a baby softly breathing while it lies in its crib.  The eyes become bloodshot before losing all color.  They are no longer the eyes of a man, but of a demonic creature.  It is said that if they could be gazed upon one could see all their sins within the eyes of the beast.  It is also said that one may be gazing into the eyes of the ruler of the abyss, come to lay claim upon the soul.

The last thing to come is the stench.  The horrid smell of dead flesh.  It smells of sulfur and brimstone.  The creature emits a stench that is instantly repulsive but yet somehow alluring.  The scent forces the nostrils to flare and has made many men to retaste their dinner.

It howls at the moon.  Then it rears on its hind legs and leaps into the night, looking for sustenance and possible converts.  People who would sell their souls to the devil to go through this agonizing transformation until the day arrives where the moon no longer shines.