An experiment before you begin the story. Click the picture above, and then return to this page. The idea is that whilst you are reading, you have a backing soundtrack to add to the impact of the yarn below. I would be interested in your opinion as to whether music enhances the story. Oh, only have the music as background noise, not loud enough to detract from what you are reading. Thank you in advance. N.
Teeth and talon tearing at her flesh. Exquisite pain forcing her toward the precipice of unconsciousness. Eldritch darkness, thick and black and heavy, enter her open mouth. It pauses at her teeth, avoiding Heather’s exhaled scream; breath is then drawn, and it slides within her; unstoppable until it reaches her soul.
Blood coats the carpeted passage of her home. Thickly, grotesquely. Walls, once white, now splattered with the deepest and most treasured of reds. Heather tries to raise herself, yet with the weight of the beast upon her, the lack of blood within her, renders her hopeless; helpless against the onslaught.
Heather, beyond screaming, raising nought bar the most tiny and pathetic of noises, hardly breaking silence now surrounding her. Those high pitched screams of her wee ones; in fear, in pain, are abruptly cut off. Nausea encapsulates her; the primeval horrors of a dread unseen extending from her small children’s bedroom. Two and four year old children. A bedroom until now of fun and love and happiness; now silent in its carnage.
An immense crash, and the sound of shattering, falling, glass happens not two metres before her. The beast extends it dreadful wings. With a limp child in either claw, it gives itself to the night, taking flight, insinuating itself into the moonlit skies beyond.
Once more she attempts to rise, yet the eldritch night within her soul renders incapable of movement and noise. It dulls her senses further; her breathing slows to a shallow rasp.
With one eye half open, Heather’s last mortal image is that of her limp and bloodied children shrinking into the distance.
Hanging from the claws of the beast.
N.
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Great story…I couldn’t hear the music.
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Ok, thank you for that, and cheers for the kind words. N.
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Because you write cool stuff, I’ve nominated you for the Liebster Award, which is an opportunity for bloggers to recognize and support other bloggers works. It’s a fun way of showing appreciation. I was nominated by strangegoingsonintheshed.wordpress.com. If you choose to accept the nomination the rules are on the link to my blog: https://therebemonstershere.com/2018/05/31/the-liebster-award/
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I thank you so much for this recognition! It’s the thing we write for, isn’t it? We hope that others will appreciate our work and get some enjoyment from it, or feel fellowship with it. I’m hesitant to accept nominations, though. I could list a number of reasons, some false, some half-true, like: Ah shucks, folks, you shouldn’t have , I don’t deserve it, or the safe excuse of not having the time, feeling under the weather etc. The way I really feel, though, is that the short list of people that I might nominate in return have probably already been through this gauntlet and will politely decline (it’s happened before) . Also, there’s the ugly truth that I’m borderline computer illiterate, and it takes me a long time to do all of the copying and pasting, inviting, notifying etc. to complete the process properly. So, the actual hard truth is LAZY and approaching senility. Very limited patience. For these things, I apologize. But watch out though. If you’re reading this, it means that you are one of my favorites, and I may just turn the tables and nominate you one day. Thank you again.
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A pleasure, and yes, I fully appreciate your sentiments. Anyway, keep doing what you do, and do so well. N.
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Dammit, you made me do it….check out the Reader.
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Ha! Thank you? I shall have a look directly.
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