WARNING: Following story contains implied adult themes and disturbing concepts. Please re-consider reading if you are easily offended by such things. Not recommended for readers under the age of 15. 1
She tenderly caressed her swollen belly. At just over eight months pregnant, Anisha Kelly was blissfully happy. She smiled as she rearranged the pillows behind her lover’s head, and she imagined she could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.2
His eyelids shuttered over his clear green eyes, Anisha didn’t need them to be open to know the love that shone from them. She remembered the first day she had finally met him – his ragged mop of dark mahogany hair that brought out the tiny flecks of darkness in his verdant eyes. The cupid’s bow of his upper lip stretched perfectly above straight white teeth when he smiled as she walked across the restaurant.3
They had chatted online for months, growing close as friends and then, after a hesitant offer of something more from her, they drew closer still. He suggested a meeting in a busy restaurant – neither of them needing to explain that for safety’s sake, it would be best – and she concurred. 4
Anisha agonised for hours over what to wear, but had finally settled on a simple black dress matched with a pair of strappy black heels with tiny diamantes across the toes. She wound her russet hair and pinned it to the top of her head with a simple elegant ebony chopstick. 5
They begun the night with a simple kiss, but it had ended with much more.6
Anisha bent over her lover now, tucking the quilt under his chin. As she did so, she felt movement against her belly, and she lifted her lover’s hand and held it against where their child somersaulted. The baby kicked once more before settling, and Anisha raised her lover’s hand to her mouth and kissed it.7
With a smile still on her face, she dropped his hand to the bed and reflected on what had led to that first meeting. 8
David Raines founded his own Real Estate Company with his best friend from school. As principle licensee and director, he soon earned more at twenty-four than most people did his age. Career-focused, he soon bought out his friend’s interest in the Company, and took the branding nationwide. At twenty-nine, he was worth nearly four million dollars – and sought to share his life with someone.9
Unfortunately, David’s hectic lifestyle interfered. He dated periodically, but never found the ‘right one’. One late night at the office, while auditing the online logs of his administrative staff, he stumbled on an online dating service offering discretion at a price.10
After making a quick note to fire the errant secretary, David’s curiosity had won him over, and, in the dim light of the closed office, he created an account with the site and begun perusing profiles.11
Anisha, by far, wasn’t the first woman he contacted. The first few were much too beautiful and conceited for him. He dated a couple of the plastic blondes with their created smiles and surgically-enhanced figures. He found them shallow and vain, and far too interested in his wealth. He even courted one brunette – a Puerto Rican with immaculate features – but found her, a barrister, even more career driven than he. 12
He had nearly given up – or so he told her – by the time he had stumbled on Anisha’s own profile page. With her fresh-faced and honest photograph smiling at him from the top corner of the webpage, he had seen a glimpse of hope. Anisha smiled with the recollection – the profile painstakingly prepared as with everything else she did in her life – crafted to perfection, just like her lover.13
She bent over now and kissed David on the forehead. “I’ll ring the office and let them know you’ll be working from home again,” she whispered. “You just stay in bed until you feel better, love”14
.
.
.15
“Leslie, Anisha… I’m sorry, but David won’t be making it in today… Yes, I know, but I will make sure he logs on later…” Anisha twisted the phone cable around her fingers as she spoke. “I realise that the meeting with the directors is important, but he is still rather cold and clammy…” She laughed before waiting for a response on the other end of the line. “Don’t worry – I’m sure he’ll be up and about when the baby comes…” 16
She listened to the usual chatter for a few seconds more before dropping the phone in its cradle. She unwound her fingers and made sure all the loops in the cable sat straight, before leaving the room. With her protuberant belly preceding her, she entered the study, pausing slightly to flick on the light. 17
David’s black Dell notepad sat squarely in the centre of the desk. To the left, and in perfect alignment, sat his leather-bound appointment book and diary. To the right and further back on the desk, his mobile and pager waited. She waddled to the high-backed office chair and then sat down. With careful precision, she flipped open the notepad and pressed the on button. David always appreciated it when Anisha ensured that everything was meticulously ready for him to begin work.18
With the computer set exactly so, she left the room and walked to the kitchen. Humming with contentment, she retrieved the coffee beans from the freezer and begun the next step in her morning routine. She measured out a precise amount of beans, poured them into the grinder and depressed the button for thirty seconds. Not a second more, not a second less. 19
She then transferred the ground beans to a shining steel percolator, and the coffee machine programmed. She almost turned away when she spotted the stray bean on the pristine white counter top. Anisha’s humming paused mid-tune, and her brow furrowed as she considered the invader.20
Standing with her hands on her hips, she fumed. She had been so careful. How dare that single bean sully her kitchen? She glanced at the coffee machine that gurgled away, unaware of her growing consternation. His coffee would not be perfect. One less bean would mean she had failed. She couldn’t fail.21
With a snarl, she stabbed her finger at the button of the machine, and with a hiccough of steam, it fell silent. Hot coffee splashed the sink as she flung the contents of the glass carafe, steaming grinds slid down the plastic of the bin, and pieces of the machine clattered into the sink.22
With strands of hair sticking to her sweaty face, Anisha scowled as she glared at the carnage. Now she had to wash, and clean, before she could start over again. And, when she did, the coffee would be perfect. Just like David.23
As she washed the components – purple rubber gloves up to her elbows – she thought about the days after she first met David.
.
.
.
The dinner had been beautiful, and they had talked and laughed well into the night. Her happiness that night reflected in the warmth that David looked upon her with. She recalled how his eyes twinkled as he returned her affections: the hand that had ensnared hers across the table, his laugh that made her heart twinge and, how his lips finally parted as he dropped his head to hers at the end of the night. It was then that Anisha revealed her love and devotion for him, for David to be her soul mate and partner, and her desire to bear his children and to raise a family.24
After the embrace, he declared that he wanted to spend more time with her. They parted with his promise to call her, and as Anisha walked back to her car, she tingled with the excitement of limitless possibilities. 25
She surprised him the following day after he finished work. Before he could remark his astonishment at her appearance, she captured him in a hug and held him close. After a whispered suggestion, he allowed her to lead him to her car.26
As she drove him to her home, she didn’t allow him a word in edgeways, regaling him with her plans for their night. As they entered her tree-lined drive, he reached out a hand and stroked her shoulder and neck, and though her skin burned at his touch, she lifted his hand away with a smirk.27
She parked her car in the lock-up garage, turned off the engine and swivelled to face him. He reached out his hand again, but this time she slapped it away. “Everything has to be perfect, David, everything.”28
He muttered a response, but she didn’t hear it as she opened her door and got out. She came around to his door, opened it slowly and gazed at him.29
“None of us are saints, David. Not I, nor you, but we can strive for perfection. You’re my perfection.”30
He gazed back at her as she unbuttoned her tailored business suit jacket and slipped it off. Her matching knee-high skirt followed, and she carefully folded both garments before placing them on a plastic-lined shelf behind her. She kicked off her shoes and stood naked in front of him.31
He reached out the same hand as he had before, but it dropped before she could do anything to prevent him touching her.
.
.
.
With the coffee machine spotless, and all trace of errant coffee beans removed, Anisha repeated her earlier steps before standing back and watching the process with a satisfied grin.32
Perfect.33
Five minutes later, a steaming mug sat on far right corner of the desk in the study. Back on the chair, Anisha logged onto the computer and waited while it made a connection to David’s office server. A dialog box flashed on the screen, prompting her for David’s secure username and password.34
Fingers racing across the keyboard, she entered both. Within seconds, David’s work schedule and client files were only a button press away. Taking a sip of the coffee (perfect), she began what she had done every single morning for the last eight months.
.
.
.
Transporting him from the car to the house had proved to be the only flaw in her plan. Though it took her nearly an hour of strenuous effort, she finally manoeuvred him into the room she’d spent months preparing. As she laid him out on the bed, she checked his pulse and breathing. Both were strong and steady, and she smiled and sang softly as she secured his wrists and ankles in the restraints.35
As he stirred, she ran a loving hand over the skin of his face and neck, ultimately letting it come to rest against where the collar of his shirt was trapped by the knot of his tie. She traced the silky fabric before using her fingers to tease the tie undone. With the knot loosened, she fondly slipped it over his head as his eyes opened.36
The leather restraints strained and the chains connecting them to the bed rattled as David fought them. “Let me go you crazy bitch!”37
Anisha’s chest clenched and her breathing hitched as his insult washed over her. How dare he? She wasn’t crazy, she loved him. Surely, he had seen that last night.38
“I should have known after you turned up at that restaurant last night and sat in the corner watching me and my girlfriend, that I should have just called the cops.”39
Anisha shook her head at the images that came tumbling back. “She was wrong for you. You’re mine – my perfect partner. Not hers.”40
“Let me go,” he demanded, as he pulled as the restraints again.41
“I love you, David, I love you very much. I saw how you looked at me in the car park. You wanted to be with me.”42
“No.”43
“Yes,” she said as she undid the first button at his throat.44
He thrashed his head in an attempt to prevent her from touching him.45
She took her fingers off the button and cupped his cheeks instead. “Shush. Please don’t fight this, David. I know you care for me – I saw you look away from her and give me those secretive glances. Stop denying it.”46
He wrenched his head away. “I would never date a crazy broad, and you’ve got to be several fries short of a Happy Meal.”47
Anisha snatched her hands away. She smirked after a brief flash of hurt showed on her face. “You don’t mean that, David,” she said, as she resumed unfastening the buttons of his shirt.48
Chains went taut as he strained to reach his hands up to hers. She glanced down at one and saw how the leather bit at his wrist and she frowned. “Stop it, David, you’re hurting yourself…”49
“Let me go then.”50
“No. This arrangement is best for both of us.”51
That statement caused David to double his efforts, and Anisha heard the metal joins in the bed creak. Oblivious to his struggle, she blissfully continued undressing him. He even began yelling at her as she progressed past his shirt to his pants. When she had bared all his skin except that which lay under his boxers, and as she fingered the band, he pleaded with her. 52
She had simply smiled and pulled them down.
.
.
.
Sipping the last of the coffee – decaffeinated – she finished the last of David’s ‘business’ for the morning. As long as David completed his work, the others would not question his absence. Additionally, having things out of place jarred her sense of order and perfection. She couldn’t have that. No, not at all.53
She powered down the computer, and rearranged everything on the desk until it was just as perfect as when she had started. She picked up the mug, eased her body from the chair and left the room, pausing to turn off the light and shut the door. A short walk took her to the kitchen once more.54
Opening the freezer door, she stood for a moment considering her options. Shelves filled with prepared dishes stared back – all of her favourites, each in precisely marked plastic containers, every single one of them meat. For her entire pregnancy, she craved flesh. Now, even the thought of succulent meat made her mouth water and her belly rumble. Her baby likewise grew agitated, and so she reached for one marked tub of lasagne.55
Before her pregnancy, she had not eaten flesh for many years. Since a teenager, the thought of eating a poor, defenceless animal turned her stomach, and she ceased eating all forms of flesh her parents offered. At around a month after conceiving, she found that she craved more than tofu, that she wanted something else. 56
The very first piece of meat had sat glistening pinkish red on the white marble slab as she scrutinized from all angles. Finally, she took a knife and diced it, cubes exactly one centimetre square. Unsure of the flavour, she first cooked a Stroganoff. The smell of the tomatoes and meat permeated house, and she was pleased to see that David salivated just as much as she did, and so they shared that meal together.
.
.
.
She tenderly wiped the dribble of sauce from his chin. “I told you that you would enjoy my cooking.”57
David didn’t answer, and she didn’t blame him, after all, she was just as enraptured by the flavours in the meal. 58
Anisha held another spoonful of the Stroganoff against his lips and he opened his mouth. His mouth moved as he chewed, and his throat likewise did so as he swallowed, but his stare remained on the wall next to her shoulder. 59
She carried on the conversation regardless of his lack of response. “I thought a little celebration was in order. I confirmed the pregnancy today with the doctor.” She smiled. “Four weeks and five days,” she declared.60
Green eyes blinked and cracked lips pursed. “Just let me go, please. You have what you want.”61
She leaned in, her smile growing wider. “You’re right. I do have what I want.” She touched her belly where she imagined the foetus already growing. “My perfect little family. You, me and our child. Isn’t that wonderful?”62
Tears streamed from her lover’s eyes – tears of happiness. She kissed his cheek. 63
“I’m so glad we tried again. There was no need to be so embarrassed over your little ‘problem’. If you had told me, I wouldn’t have worried about those little blue pills or all the other things I tried first.”
.
.
.
Anisha stood in front of the microwave, waiting. The smell of the lasagne wafting from the glowing machine caused her to pace impatiently. One lap took her past the fruit basket on the counter, and she paused when she noticed the small silver blister tab sheet. She snatched it up, held it up to the light in the kitchen and examined it. 64
Scrunching her hand around it, she threw the sheet of two trapezoidal tablets at the bin. It bounced off the rim and skittered across her spotless tile floor. Stalking to the crumpled foil pack, she picked it up between two fingers before depositing it with a huff in the bin. Where it belonged. 65
The sudden beep of the microwave broke the intense trance-like-stare she had started giving the bin, and she turned away, shrugged her shoulders and retrieved her meal. She served it on a white plate, and took it to the table, where she sat down and reflected on the other moments during the last eight months that hadn’t been perfect.
.
.
.
At three months, David really started to get on her nerves. Complaining. Griping. Yelling at her for no reason. Until one morning, she couldn’t take it anymore. Walking into the room, a barrage of snarled insults inundated her, and she stood, crying, for the good part of ten minutes before she marched from the room. 66
She soon returned, though, carrying her stainless steel utensil container from the kitchen. “My mother always said that that if I had nothing nice to say, I shouldn’t say it, and if I did, she would punish me.” She tipped the contents of the container out on the bed between David’s legs. Tongs and ladles and serving spoons tumbled out interspersed with other implements.67
“But, you see, I don’t have a wooden spoon like she used to use, so I guess I’ll have to find something else,” she said, as she lifted a metal meat tenderiser and inspected it.68
David’s eyes widened as she raised the utensil. Instead of hitting him, however, she thudded it against her opposing palm. She chewed her lip and she considered the feel of the metal in her hand and rubbed her fingers over in the reddening indentations in her other palm. 69
“No, not quite,” she muttered. 70
She dropped the meat tenderiser and picked up a carving fork. She giggled. 71
“Please, don’t…”72
Anisha regarded David over the fork. “This?” she asked, holding it up. “No… I just had a funny thought.”73
For some reason, that statement seemed to alarm him more than her waving the fork around, and she dropped the fork back to the bed. 74
“Now this,” she said, snatching up an egg flip, “…might just be the thing.”75
David barely had the time to react to her suggestion when she brought the utensil down with a snap against the pale skin of his inner thigh.76
He screamed, and that had brought a smile to her face.
.
.
.
Anisha smirked at the recollection, pleasantly surprised by how good it had felt to inflict pain on David that day. It had been for his own good, after all. Her mother always said that men ‘must be trained’, and Anisha loved him enough that she was willing to hurt him in order for him to learn. She spent the days afterward bathing the welts she had left, and felt… fulfilled, as if she had finally found her purpose in life. 77
For the first couple of weeks after that, their relationship flourished. David treated her with respect, always replying politely when she prompted him. However, he soon developed other obnoxious habits, and she found herself eagerly planning a regime of discipline in order to inculcate in him a perfect pattern of behaviour.
.
.
.
“I am doing this because I love you, David,” she said, as she brought the spiked paddle down on his shin for the fifth time. 78
He cried out and then moaned as she wiped the fresh blood away with the lavender-scented washcloth. 79
“Is it that hard to tell me you love me? I give you everything a man could desire: devotion, love, respect, a child and a willingness to pleasure you. Every night I give you ecstasy, and yet you treat me with vileness in the morning.”80
David turned his head away from her, and she grabbed his chin and made him look at her. “You are so perfect at night.”81
“You take what is never yours,” he said, his voice gravelly.82
“Don’t be ridiculous, David. I never take,” she chastised. “You give yourself to me. Every night you relive that first joy of creating our child.”83
He spat at her, and the thick strand of phlegm fell short of her face and clung to her blouse. “You’re a monster!”84
Ignoring both the remark and the disgusting wetness that marred her blouse, she simply picked up the paddle. With a grim smile, she resumed disciplining him.
.
.
.
The lasagne finished and her hunger sated, she carried the plate to the sink. Donning the same purple elbow length gloves from before, she washed the plate and cutlery, before wiping down the bench top and table of any speck – real or imagined. She then opened the freezer once more and counted the plastic counters. Twenty-nine… perfect. 85
She had made exactly enough. After consuming that last meal – schnitzel – she would drive to the hospital and book herself into the birthing unit. Everything sensibly followed her tight schedule, everything planned to perfection. Her mother taught her that – if you weren’t going to plan, it wouldn’t be worth the time and effort starting it. It was a sin to waste time in her mother’s eyes, and imperfection wrought repercussions. 86
Just over three months ago, she noticed imperfection in her figure: her feet swelled grotesquely, her face looked pasty and her belly grew. She was showing, and it disgusted her. Covering the mirrors in her house, she skulked around the darkened hallways, fearing to show her face to the outside world. Her mother had done the same, at the time explaining to a five-year-old Anisha, that though the baby would be faultless, she needed to pay the price by sacrificing her own perfection.
.
.
.
Anisha cried as she covered the last mirror, saddened by the bloated cow of a doppelganger that had stared back… and David wouldn’t let up with the insults no matter what she did to him. Ugly, he told her. Ugly, ugly, ugly… and with her mother’s twenty-year words ringing in her skull, she believed it. 87
David’s lacklustre screams no longer excited her. She used just about everything in the house, even the vacuum cleaner, and yet the whole process began to bore her. She would injure him: contusions, lacerations and even burns, and then spend the following days tending to the wounds. Within a strict schedule of hurt and comfort, she soon found her purpose in life fading. 88
Until she found the knife.
.
.
.
She left the kitchen and entered the bedroom again. David lay where she had left him, blankets tucked up around his chin, and his hands entwined across his chest. 89
“Not long to go now, my love,” she whispered, as she smoothed her hand over the blanket, tracing his lean form. Her hand dipped just below his ribs. “You provided everything our baby needed.”
.
.
.
The blood, so much blood: Slicking the knife in her hand, the sheet on the bed and splattered across her torso. Red flowed from the long gash in David’s leg and his screams were once more melodic bliss. 90
She lowered the blade again, and with slow deliberation plunged the knife into his flesh and drew it along parallel to the first cut, before tapering it to meet. She thought of the empty fridge and her growling stomach, and saw nothing but the flesh that quivered.
.
.
.
Her hand pushed the blanket down to meet the mattress, and she smoothed the blanket until she reached the jut of one hipbone. She traced the ridge of the bone with his fingers, up the curve before plunging down to his backbone. 91
She couldn’t discern what she sought through the wadding of the blankets but knew it was there.
.
.
.
He had screamed so fervently that it sent shivers of ecstasy thrumming down her back. The thrill pooled in her chest and groin, and she threw her head back and laughed with delight as she held the warm flesh in her hand. Filled with elation, she left the room, walked purposely to the kitchen and lovingly draped the flesh across the expanse of the white marble cutting board.92
With David’s shrieks echoing through the house, she carved the flesh into perfect little cubes.
.
.
.
Her fingers paused at where she had deliberately broken his back. Stopping the bleeding in his right leg had been… troublesome… but she managed to stop him from dying.
.
.
.
No longer able to feel her knife, he still writhed as she butchered his leg, carving the flesh from his bone. She took every last piece of succulent meat, and thanked him for providing for his growing child. 93
She sang to herself as she bandaged his upper thigh, and it wasn’t until she lifted her eyes to his face that she noticed that he had fallen asleep. Covering his legs with a sheet, she kissed his forehead.94
“Rest now, David. I will return later with your favourite meal. Roast, with extra gravy, for my brave lover.”
.
.
.
The hand continued its journey down the bed, unhindered. She sighed. Last month he so willingly provided for her and the baby again, but this time he stared blankly at her as her knife slashed and sliced. He even clamped his mouth shut and turned his head away when she tried to feed him the meatloaf. For weeks, he refused to eat anything she offered, and finally, five days ago, she woke beside his cold body.95
‘Waste not, want not’, was another of her mother’s favourite sayings, and one which Anisha agreed with. And so, even in his death, David provided for her and their child.96
She lifted her hand to the top of the blanket and peeled it back. Easing her swollen frame onto the bed, she lay down beside David, lifting one bony arm and draping it around her shoulders as she snuggled against him.97
He was perfect. Just perfect.
Author notes
This is a new approach at the horror genre for me - presenting a story told in third-person subjective without using rich descriptive language and using the fragmented narrative (switching between the now and the past) to reflect the narrator's own fractured reality. I wanted readers to feel unsettled around the middle of the narrative - to know that something is terribly wrong, but not the extent of the wrongness. I also wanted to portray Anisha's deluded and psychotic nature - especially in her compulsive drive for perfection. The other things that motivate her are her desire to please the memory of her mother, as well as her desire to raise her own 'perfect' child. Most of the narrative is built on allusions - on the surface some things look normal, but by the end, the reader can see that everything is as far from normal as possible. For the 'gore' component, I thought that this would have more impact if the reader imagined what Anisha was doing rather than simply presented with the scenario.
David's 'embarrassing little problem' that is referred to by Anisha (and taken advantage of) is the fact that he suffers from a form parasomnia called 'sexsomnia' which, while in a semi-sleep state, his body goes through the motions of sex. A person who suffers from forms of parasomnia never remember what they did while in that state - ergo why Anisha takes advantage of it (and it reinforces her delusions).
For intoothandclaw's contest:
prompts used - the concept of 'mask of sanity' in the MC's perception of reality as opposed to what is true. The phrase 'none of us are saints', and the concept of necrosadism.
For gezza's contest:
10 stories awarded gold...(48 between them)
A Separate Existence x2 (Horror/Myth)
Guardian of Light x3 (Romance)
Creation x3 (Drabble)
Death by Chocolate x3 (Mystery/Drama)
The Sea Giveth x3 (General Fiction)
Of Dreams and Reality x2 (Fantasy/Horror/Experimental)
Every Rose Has Its Thorns x5 (Romance/Mystery)
Laughter x3 (Parody)
A Rare Breed x8 (Horror)
The Dark Legacy x14 (Myth/Horror)
A contest entry
- The Anything Contest! by TheDecree.
170 points, ended February 17, 17 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - If you dare... by VampireFriends.
750 points, ended March 23, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - A story to blow minds by Holey Pastry.
300 points, ended March 8, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Story Contest #1 (Almost anything goes!) by VelvetWings.
400 points, ended March 13, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - One of Three by HoneyAngel.
350 points, ended April 18, 33 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Black Friday: Paint the Devil on the Wall by intoothandclaw.
700 points, ended April 9, 9 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - a bit of the old ultra violence by urbanronin88.
225 points, ended May 8, 25 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Dc's "I Love Boots" Trophy! by Shah Z.
500 points, ended May 6, 7 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Anything goes by HaydenLautner.
400 points, ended May 13, 51 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Morbid Masterpieces by DogsLookUp.
700 points, ended May 23, 9 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Horrifying by Arcos.
300 points, ended June 12, 26 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - L.O.V.E/ H.O.R.R.O.R by Melissa Loves Jeffy.
600 points, ended June 17, 26 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Only The Best! by SilentMoonDance.
3000 points, ended June 12, 16 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Psych Ward Blues by sberendt.
525 points, ended June 27, 16 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - A Critic's Critical Critiquing by Asfand.
350 points, ended June 26, 23 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - The Oscars 2009 - Best Horror Story by Asfand.
700 points, ended July 22, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Unique Gold Short Story Contest by gezza.
1350 points, ended August 15, 6 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Short Stories Galore! by sberendt.
550 points, ended August 3, 27 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Enter If You Dare by seasonsoflove.
525 points, ended October 11, 135 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Stretching the Imagination by Valhara.
170 points, ended November 19, 54 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - You've been a bad, bad boy. by corrupthoughts.
225 points, ended November 20, 15 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest - Make My Birthday a Dark Day! by Mâxxym Neovalerious by Maxxym Neovalerious.
770 points, ends November 28, 25 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
What is your reaction to this?
Comments
1 - 59 of 59
-
O.O Woooah. lol. Sooo not what I was expecting after reading two other stories of yours. But this was definately good. A bit...creepy and psycotic, lol, but good. It was well written, and really through me for a loop when you mention him actually...eating the meat...that he provided...very disturbing, but it is a pre-Halloween contest, so this certainly fit. Great work on this, definately a finalist.
-
Wow. Amazing! Creepy, but amazing!
Plot: 5
Language: 4
Theme: 4
Total: 13
Great work here. Thank you so much for entering, and keep up the awesome work!! -
In the past few months I've been extremely interesting in the phsycology of things. It reminded me a bit of the Hanibal books which were my favorite a few years back, long sotry short...I love your story! While reading the first paragraph I expected it to be a cutesy love story, it's very surprising and descriptive. I really feel for Anisha's soon-to-come baby, it has a wack job for a mom but I guess that's life. Anisha is very interesting adding a background to her, things her mother had said or taugh her, made her an even more realistic charecter.
GReat job =]
-
Very well written - the tone and voice were near perfect. I personally wasn't suprised by the cannibalism nor his death, but you disguised the manner in which both were carried out beautifully, and that is certainly a notable achievement.
Her delusional nature was very well portrayed, and in particular in the first third of the narrative - this is the first exposure of her character to the reader and it was totally submerged in her fantasy world, while in the last two thirds the fractures start quickly showing, giving reality-based hints, so to speak. Exceptionally well done.
I enjoyed the ending in the sense of thinking about the black widow spider - am I right in assuming that the analogy didn't escape you?
It was a good idea to explicitly state that staunching blood loss was difficult - as it most certainly would be. The story bridges the incredulous in places, but avoids the precipice reasonably well (keeping the poor sod alive so long, and being able to keep David from physically attending his business requirements for so incredibly long) - but this is not a criticism per se - this is a dark story that is expected to breach into such places - otherwise a story such as this would simply not be conceived.
Not sure why you needed to explain anything in the author's notes - the story in itself was entertaining, atmospheric, and thought provoking. When the blue pills came out I saw them as viagra and a reasonable approach to maintain some of the physical elements of Anisha's fantasy world. I would have thought his 'problem' was an inability to naturally comply with her fantasy, due to physical and psychological trauma (of the most extreme form) - I would believe most readers would interpret in this, or a similar, way. Regardless of whether I 'read' this passage correctly or not, I don't believe it undermined the point of your story.
You have strong writing skills, with discipline, and your flow of narrative is excellent. Your switching of present and past, using Anisha's recollections, serves well her state of mind, and is a tried and true methodology for presenting information to the reader in the order the writer wants, instead of strict chronology. You did this well - although I have been experimenting with a slight variation on this - to simply present the 'flashbacks' with implied recollection (or ambiguity as to source) - I think this method can be sometimes a little more refined than explicitly referring to the switch. A pedantic point, I know - apologies.
I haven't taken the trouble of mentioning them, but I recall seeing 3 or 4 errors - missing words mainly - totally irrelevant to this critique.
Thanks for allowing me to read your story - it is of very high quality and deserves to be entered in an appropriate short story competition (or ten).
Gez
-
I've already read this and commented, but I will again for the sake of it being in my contest.
I loved it just as much as before! Thank you for entering my contest!
~sberendt
-
I thought this was a pretty powerful horror story. I see that you have a lot of emotion in your voice as a writer and that your characters are no different from that. I enjoyed the tense scenes and the way you described the situations, especially the last paragraphs, endingd the story in a way that most authors on this site aren't able to, usually on count of hurrying.
I wish you the bets of luck in this contest, Blonde One. I feel that you have a good chance at getting a good trophy... the gold or silver, is what I mean.
Keep up the great writing and may you enjoy the site for times to come. -
You really do know how to write. Again, creepy and thorough in the slow buildup of suspense. Your gift for detail and setting shine through in this piece. Clearly, it's been a favorite among many, many readers (as well as making them consider vegetarianism and compare you to Stephen King
). I'm pleased you've entered this one in my contest; thanks for sharing.
-
Very interesting! I very much like yor approach on the subject matter and how you managed to make this very subtle. Beautiful.
-
Yea I agree, this kept making me think of Misery, but this was almost worse.
Looove the way you write; this was amazing.
-
This also does remind me of Stephen King's 'Misery' and I loved it and it kept my attention for the entire thing.. I want to know what happened when the baby was born! Crazy bitch is crazy.
-
this is bery good. However it is very long.
-
My god. She was such a horrible woman. I would never like to meet someone like her.
I can see why you've won so many trophies...bravo, for being able to write such a chilling story. I couldn't make her look more psychotic than you did.
-
I've seen this story everywhere, and I finally decided to buckle down and take a look at it.
I must say, I'm absolutely impressed. Reminded me somewhat of the the Stephen King novel Misery, with her tying him up, trapping him, crippling him and whatnot.
That plot has been down before, but what caught me was the whole thing with meat; how she suddenly craved it, and how this pregnancy of hers was driving her mad and bringing up memories of what appears to be a rather strange, and possibly mentally disturbed mother (it's always the mother, isn't it?). But the ending, with her dicing up his leg... the icing on the cake.
This was sick, twisted, and astounding. Good job.
-
This story/poem is hereby officially accepted as a nomination for the SW Oscars. Congratulations on your nomination! You will be notified [via IM] to submit this story in its specific category when the contest opens. Congratulations, once again! Keep up the excellent work!
Admin
SW Oscars -
Very sadistic.
Well, grammar, structure, writing is all spot on! I absolutely loved the characterization, and I love that you not only tell of this obsession for perfection but show it in every way possible. A very character-derived story, which is something I admire!
The motive (I guess) is also driven by her obsession for attaining the perfect little family. I do think it is weird that his disappearance would go unchecked or unnoticed. Sure, he did work from the computer but there's a limit to how long this could go on. What about phone calls, texts, friends, family? They would be very suspicious.
Nonetheless, this was riveting. Imaginative, twisted and fullfilling every aspect a story should! Great format by the way, I loved how you flit between the past and the present! Loved it!
Great job and good luck!
-
All I can say is, wow.
This was so sadistic! Anisha's compulsion for perfection was fascinating, and it really made everything else click and more awesome.
Your writing style is flawless and you definitely captured the psychotic character theme! I liked how you had the separated sections for things that happened in the past. It really added to the dimension and flow of the story.
Amazing write!
~sberendt
Amazing write!
-
wow...you just wrote yourself into the finalist. This is extremely twisted, dark, and pure awesome. I love these kind of stories and sometimes it's hard to find a really good one to read.
Thanks for entering this into my contest.
-
Hmm...
I remember reading and commenting on this story--I think you entered it in my previous contest, but it's so good that I'll let you pass on the rules.
Great story and good luck!
-
That fucking chick is sick as hell! This was very sick and twisted and you are a brilliant writer to have been able to write this. Well done!
-
I am thoroughly freaked out. I imagined this would reflect the old idea that all stories are comedy or tragedy. I thought this would be tragic, as in the story starts nice but ends in disaster. I couldn't have ever forseen this story.
I first got the hint of obsession when I noticed how often she described David as 'perfect.' This bothered me from the back of my mind until he accused her of being a 'crazy bitch,' then I realized with a bit of horror that my initial notion was very true.
I never would have imagined how obsessed and insane Anisha would be. Rape is one thing, but torture and eating him is another thing entirely. And you expertly managed to make this all seem like she was justified, which, in her mind, she was.
It's very difficult for me to find room for improvement in this. Everything was scaled, well, 'perfectly.' (I cringe to use the word.) The reader's descent into her madness travels at just the right pace as we realize just how diluted Anisha really is.
Now I can think of something. Scary movies are told, usually, from the view of the victim for a reason. What that reason is, I'm not entirely sure. As freaky as it was to see this from Anisha's point of view, a little bit of David's viewpoint couldn't hurt.
That's all I could come up with.
It was perfect. Just perfect. (muahahaha.)
-
I vividly remember reading this before. I dont know if you entered it in one of my other contests, or I read it on my own. Then I scrolled down and found I had commented it already. I do remember the outcome of this horrifying story though, and thats a good thing. Most stories I read, are well written but dont make enough of an impact for me to remember, and yours certainly did.
-
WOW that was reallycreepy well writtn and deatiled though. good job.
-
As I thought, I've read this before. And commented.
But a second reading still managed to freak me out - even though I was looking for the clues in the story. And an added fun fact, the office was quiet when I started reading, and at the end, my secretary knocked on the door, and I literally almost yelled.
RJ -
Thank you for entering this masterpiece in my contest. I never expected anything this good, terrifying, or gorgeously written. It was gross but not too explicit, and I enjoyed Anisha's psychopathic narrative, the way she fawned over David as if he was her own child and especially the whole concept of pleasing her mother.
Your writing style reminds me so much of Stephen King's! Just some of the funny phrases such as "doppelganger" and "you've got to be several fries short of a Happy Meal." Hmm, were you inspired by King's "Misery" film when you wrote this? Anisha reminds me of Annie Wilkes...
Anyways, I applaud you for this fresh, deliciously morbid and sadistic write! You're a finalist!
P.S. I'm never going to look at meatloaf the same way again.
-
My expression throughout this story was first
Tallblondie writing gushy romance??
Then it went to
something ain't right here...
And then by the end I was like
Yuck! That poor kid!! S/he's gonna grow up to be a perfect Sawny Bean, eh?
This is indeed, as Valkyrie says, a tallblondie classic. My mouth feels queasy over meat now.
- HT
-
And there was much creepiness! I was not sure at ALL that I could get through this story. Horror and pregnancy do not go well together in my head (having experienced one, I have no desire to experience the other ). But, that said, this was not what I expected, and chillingly creepy to boot. A true tallblondie classic, I say. I didn't understand the "little problem" at the time in the story, so thanks for explaining in the A/N. That makes her comment about him being so perfect at night make so much more sense!
I was slightly unclear at the end, but I think you left it that way on purpose, from your A/N again: She's curling up with his fleshless skeleton now? Dude! Just, dude...
All I can think is, that poor baby...
Well written as usual, and more creepy than most. Also, thanks for the less-gore angle. My imagination suffices more than adequately...*goes to get sanitizer spray, aims at brain* Great story.
-
I swear. From now on i'm considering turning a vegetarian. I loved this story, it was very disturbing at times, but that was what it made it great. Her OCD behaviour was very disturbing, I felt especially sorry for the baby she's going to have.
Thank you for entering my contest and good luck -
Oh! My god, this is not the story you should be reading while having lunch, especially meat. Man!
This was good really good, I was really amazed, did she feed his meat to him. Yuck, I think I am going to throw up. Great work and best of luck. -
A very good read. You did a good job of slowly building the suspense by letting a little more and more of your female leads insanity show. I loved the fractured time line, you pulled it of quite well. Thanks and good luck in my contest.
-
Um wow!!!!!! Iam blown away by this. What a deranged woman. I am kinda glad she got her revenge but fuck that was insane. ( I am in love with a guy named david. Just a funny note.) They pregnant woman going that isnane is nuts! She is deffinantly not fit to be a mother!!!!!!!!
The Positives:
WOW You did amazing on this! I think it was one of the most twisted tales I have ever read. The terror that is wrapped up in this is freaking amazing. Wonderful job.
The Negatives:
Nothing wrong with this you did amazingly!!!!!!!!!
Overall:
I give this an 9/10 you did great. I hope to see you in my future contests thanks so much for entering.
~*~Apathetic Poison~*~beginning: 4, language: 3, plot: 4, ending: 5, dialog: 3, characters: 4.
-
Wow! This is incredible. Anisha is seriously psychotic. But now I am wondering if her pregnancy made her crave the flesh or if it was a rejection by David that brought his fate. The demand for order in everything by Anisha made me think OCD, but when the coffee bean set her off that badly I thought she had some major issues. We were being set up for something far more devious. How devious of you, yet that incident and the bits scattered without paint a grisly picture in calculated degrees. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!
-
I always know when I see that warning at the beginning that I will be thoroughly intrigued, and perhaps unsettled, by the story that follows. You never disappoint. *laughs*
I suspected from the start where the plot would lead but you still surprised me with her carving him up for fresh dinners.
I should have seen it coming from the reference to her eating nothing but meat and craving fresh.
I like the switching between present and past. The present narratives re-enforced her obsession with order and 'perfection' while the flashbacks showed just how warped her mind really was. I also like the role reversal with the girl being the psycho and the guy being the victim.
Good detailed descriptions throughout. It was easy to follow exactly what was happening, even when you didn't really want to. (I had to laugh though when he said she was several fries short of a happy meal.)
Nicely done all around Jodie. It was quite, ..uh, ..entertaining.
Greg
-
Effectively disturbed
Ahh...you have an amazing ability to write thoroughly disturbing stories. I hope I can sleep tonight.
Little room for comment on such a good piece.
Your plot is intriging. It brought to mind Misery for me ("I'm your number 1 fan..." CREEPY...). I kept wondering how far you were going go. You took it all the way. Poor David.
I am going to do my best to diagnose your character:
Axis I: Delusional disorder NOS, Intermittant Explosive Disorder, Sexual Sadism. r/o bipolar disorder.
(history of childood reactive attachment disorder)
Axis II: Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Obsessive Personality Disorder. r/o Borderline Personality Disorder.
Axis III: pregnant
Axis IV: Problems with support, history of neglect by caregiver, issues of compliance with medications
Axis V: GAF 20
*I am sure there is some type of affective disorder/depression going on...
Para 65: "two trapezoidal tablets"
I do not get the reference and my web serch kept coming up with Diflucan, the antifungal. What is your intent?
Sounds like a better bet for your character is to have her throw out her antipsychotic medications. How about Haldol, Thorazine, Seroquel or Zyprexa instead? (no one likes these, they make you fat and many are not good for fetuses).
Even better, this girl would be on multiple mediciations...including a mood stabilizer like Lithium, Depakote, tegretol.
For accuracy, your character would likely have a history of hospitalizations, failed realtionships, and was likely the victim of her own physical and sexual abuse (you speak of Mom in a non-judgemental way).
Just some thoughts.
Again...WOW...
CN
-
Wow this is beyond amazing! Its not usual that the woman is the killer, and the man the victim. I really love that unexpected twist. You definitly scared me to deathl. Excellent job!
-
Well, this was a great story, and yet, just saying great doesn't seem to do it justice.
Everything, from start to finish, was perfect in the intricacies of the story. You did everything your a/n said you were trying to do, and more. I loved every bit of the story; it sent chills down my spine.
It kind of reminds me of Stephen King's Misery, in the psychoticness of it all.
Once again, great story, and best of luck(though I doubt you need it) in the contest.
Desire.
P.S Need more clappy men
-
wow. This is completely amazing. I was stunned at the way you presented this.
-
I am blown away by this. This is the first story I have read and you've already set the bar pretty high. I love this kind of story, the kind of thriller. I knew something was up when you were saying 'flesh' instead of meat.
Awesome concept and greatly written story. I love stories where people's minds can just drift and wonder about what is happening, so much better then all the horror's that everything is all laid out.
Well done.
Angel
-
This was absolutely perfect. Well-written, and the way you left a lot of the horror to the reader's imagination is something else. Many writers try to vividly describe the scenes they create. You allude to them, and let the true action unfold in your reader's minds.
A long story, longer than I expected to read in this contest, but I'm pleased to say it held my attention from the very beginning. The psychological aspect was what appealed to me the most; I love the character of Anisha, her obsessive quirks and how happy she is within her little delusions.
Thank you for entering this piece in my contest, and good luck.
~Sparrow -
Wow... just wow. A morbidly scarring story that left me chilled. The pregression from lovely romantic story to shocking horrific was subtle yet amazing.
Seriously, one of the best reads I have seen. Congrats and thanks so much for entering!
H.P. -
This is just incredible. I love the way you present the entire piece. In the beginning everything seems perfectly fine, but by the end you are thrown into Anisha's delusional world.
-
Well, I don't think I'm gonna go to my girlfriend's place for at least a week. Wonderful work of horror that creeped me out comletely. It didn't take any time at all to transport into the mind of this fascniating character. You described just enough for me to know that I wouldn't like what I saw, but my mind kept conjuring disturbing images all the same. Great job.
-
Jeez...
I'm using quick comment for this because it's so long, and I won't remember anything if I comment at the end. So far, I've read the first five paragraphs, and obviously nothing has gone wrong yet - but that's what's disturbing me. Because I know that eventually, something has to happen, it's making me wonder what on earth it could be (the moment I read that the main character is pregnant, I actually said "Oh no" out loud).
I really like the simplicity of paragraph 6. I often find that just a single line by itself can be very effective, and this definitely is. So far, I'm seeing all the makings of the kind of story I actually like to read, and like you promised, it isn't boring. And it's always a plus that you made me laugh.
Already, I can feel the tension, because like I said, when nothing happens that seems amiss at the start, you know that something horrible is going to turn up any minute. All quite chilling stuff. I'm not going to tell you my guesses so far, but let's just say I find David to be slightly suspicious...
Hmm, however, Anisha's anger at the coffee machine does seem a little out of character. Kind of reminds me of Annie Wilkes from Misery by Stephen King (don't know if you've read it, and if not, you should), and her strange psychotic nature. Actually, she very much reminds me of her. She seemed so nice before that, but now, I'm starting to question her state of mind.
So far, this is fantastic, and I haven't even got to the good bit yet.
The second flashback confused me a little bit, because I thought they were outside, but then I read that they were in her garage. Bit of a strange place to strip off!
Okay, now I'm wondering whether you actually have read Misery, because if not, this is one hell of a coincidence! Wow, the moment I read the part about her logging on to his computer, and strapping him to the bed, my mouth just dropped open, because I wasn't expecting that. I think I'm just going to read it now, so it isn't all broken up inside my head.
Oh man oh man oh man, I really wasn’t expecting that. This chick is cray-zee! The rape scene was so well written, and the way she stayed so calm was unnerving. Now I’m having to work out what was real and what just happened in her head, and even though it’s a little confusing, it’s brilliant. Wow… just wow.
I love how sometimes you document her thought process in the narration, for example in p53: “She couldn’t have that. No, not at all.” Just makes her seems even more neurotic than before, as if she’s talking to herself. The characterization is top notch. P63 – jeez, that made me shudder. The way he’s begging to be set free, and even after that she still manages to convince herself that his tears are of happiness. Even though the plotline is fairly commonly used, you portray it in such an original way, what with the pregnancy.
I love your use of fragmented sentences against the longer, more descriptive ones. Especially ones like “Where it belonged” give me a clear idea of what’s going on in her head. On the one hand, we have this calm, kind seeming woman, who greatly loves her “boyfriend” and their unborn child. On the other, we have this insane, deluded person who is keeping a man captive to satisfy her own selfish needs. The way she lives her life as though she were just any normal woman getting on with her life is really quite disturbing.
“He screamed, and that had brought a smile to her face.” Oh, now that is disturbing. The way she hits him so calmly, the way she talks about her mother telling her that men have to be “trained”. I would be very, very surprised indeed if you haven’t read Misery, but if you haven’t, I guess that means you just have a great mind for these things.
I swear my heart stopped as soon as I read “Until she found the knife.”
To be honest, I had suspected before when I read the part about the meat that it was human, since you used the word “flesh”, but now that it’s been confirmed… ugh, this is so disgustingly amazing.
Oh man, the ending was… just chilling. The way you describe David’s death so calmly, and how you talk about her using his flesh for food, just… I can’t find the words. That was horror to the max, I can tell you, and I really didn’t notice how long it was because it was just so well written. Man, do you know how to scare a kid.
Yeah, I could go on and on about everything you did amazingly in this, but to be honest, this comment is already long enough. All I’ll say is that this was fucking twisted, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Welcome to your spot in the finals, and thanks so much for entering!
-
whoa
Your author's notes are right. It was such a grand twist to have us read the descriptions, but have it limited so that only our minds are left to imagine how the carvings happened, etc...
She's very fucked up... But I love that you helped me see just how screwed up her mid was. In the beginning, I thought he was just sick.. but gawd.. you know, they said even the little things can show you a person's true personality. That bean-coffee thing really justified and reinforced her twisted mind x.x Poor David.
*wonders if the child will also be cannibalistic* x.x Gawd, seriously, I don't know what else to say.
You'll win if there's a contest for twistedness - the story, I mean
One little little thing:
btw, not sure how it's spelt, but manoeuvred doesn't seem right x.x
Anyway, thank you for this. Now I'll look for happy things to read
-
*Shivers* I still get the creeps everytime I read this. lol Great job!
-
A Winner!
Two words: Perversely Spectacular!
(Para 41, I think you meant "at" instead of "As".
Um, maybe I'm wrong, but para 62, you wrote "foetus". Isn't it "Fetus")
-
-
'foetus' is the correct spelling - at least for the region I live in. For British/Australian, we tend to subscribe to the original latin for some anatomical/medical terminology.
Thanks for the comment and the edit.
-
-
This is an amazing AMAZING write!! But that sounds like an understatment. I can't put into to words. I've never read story on here--where I was totally engulfed in it. It really held my attention.It was very interesting---not extremely boring like most stories I read on this site. This is one of the best stories that I have read on this site, this is simply wonderful. And it is true horror to the core. That woman is crazy, a perfectionist, and insane. She should be put in a mental hospital. Loved it! I feel bad for David, but this is a horror story---there is not supposed to be a happy ending.
Marvelous write. (:
Good luck in my contest. (: -
"she imagined she could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth."---I know what's up...
P41: 'as he pulled as(at) the'
This...Now this was awesome. Fantastically creepy.
There were some moments in there that I thought you could've switched between past and present a little more clearly. That's about all I could recommend...
Oh, and elaborating on his 'sexsomnia' within the story itself would probably be better to your readers than having them discover what, exactly, is up with him much later. It would make a little more sense that way, too. Little more logic...
For some reason, I laughed at a lot of this. It's kind of funny when you think about it...
-
Morbid and beautiful I loved it thank you it was awesome
-
Disgusting, Creepy and Morbid...yet very well written. Writing like this is why I can't watch horror movies. You made it so real! Good Job.
-
Creepy. It didn't follow the path I expected at first, but this is a lot better than what I had in mind. Creepy as hell, but very well written. It was very disgusting. Well done.
Yes, you actually made me cringe. The idea of her force feeding him his own flesh. Wow.
It took me longer to read since my mind is all but dead for some reason, but it was worth it.
In paragraph 59, I'm not sure "did so" is really necessary. The idea is still presented without the phrase, and I think it fits the style a bit better.
Other than that, there isn't anything I could suggest editing. Great work on this, Blondie.
-
*Laughs*
*Laughs some more*
Oh my goodness. This is about as bad as A Little Piece of Heaven.
I think I rather liked it. I almost laughed out loud when I realised she was eating him. I much prefer this to your graphic horrors, this i could just amuse myself with the sick concepts and not imagine the nasty stuff so much.
Mmm, can't say I saw much to fix, one word missed, Para 30:
“None of are saints, David. Not I, nor you..."
I think it's 'None of us are saints'?
Yup, another good write by you, albeit, predictable. Though I didn't work it all out till half way through the piece. But I do like how you described the restaurant scene, makes the reader think it was her, and then BAM! Oh, it was him with his girlfriend. Still wonder about the dating site bit, was that made up by her? Or what?
Anyway, nice work, it wasn't creepy at all. Just sickly amusing.
-
i frekin love you. cant wait to read more of your work. She ate him?! awesome. u rock
-
nice story. I love it
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
-
AHHH!! >< scary but good! i like it a lot! i'm not a real fan of scary stuff myself because i'm a coward lmao haha but i will read it from time to time and i liked this even tho it made me want to hide under my sheets lol and ik you warned me but yeahh leave it to me to not listen... lol keep up the good work! ^^ <3
-
Holy cow.
Do you ever scare yourself, sometimes? I mean, just a little little tiny bit? Do you make sure you sit in a brightly lit room and type during the day? - Once again, my blonde friend, you have managed to freak me out and amaze me at the same time.
Kudos. I'm in the presence of a master (or mistress ..)
I'm not going to waste space waxing lyrical about your grammatical and descriptive and narrative prowess - you don't need me to tell you that.
Keep penning!
RJ
-
-
Do I scare myself? No... not particularly. I typed most of this last night around the midnight to 2am mark, and the rest this arvo. *shrugs* I'm off to finish off another dark/horror piece, so 'stay tuned'. (Need to free up space in my head)
-
-
Hmm, thought not.
Neat, I'll be waiting.
-
-
-
i loved the usage of words like "the child somesaluted"
and nice new genre u introduced us to...!!!
Adding your comment:
1 - 59 of 59
