Poetry Friday ~ BOOK REVIEWS

Hi, everyone! Welcome to my blog. I appreciate your visit.

Stephen King (Horror, Dark Fantasy author)

Why do you write horror, dark fantasy, and thriller? 

I’ve been asked this question many times. Since I was a child I’ve always loved dark, suspenseful, and spine-chilling tales. Scary stories taught me that it was okay to be afraid, and that I could use my brain to solve problems, even when frightened or use my natural survival instincts to safely escape from dangerous situations. They also taught me about courage, loyalty, hope, and facing my fears.

Reading these stories gave me a bit of a thrill, an adrenaline rush from being scared, and in some ways, it was fun to read about things that frightened me. We all experience a rush of adrenaline and a release of endorphins and dopamine when scared. The biochemical rush can result in a pleasure-filled, opioid-like sense of euphoria. In the end, there is a catharsis to it. There’s darkness and light in all of us, and as I write my complex, dark tales I purge the gloom and feel sunnier having done so. 

Horror and dark fantasy are extremely popular genres. I believe it’s because these genres revolve around our emotions. These stories evoke in people – emotions that aren’t just abject terror. Many fans of horror, dark fantasy, and thriller are actually seeking “controlled” fear and suspense, knowing we are safe.

“It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.” ~Stephen King

Today I’d like to share some of the books I’ve read recently and my reviews of them.

SITUATION Z by A.M. Semple

BLURB:

The heat is the least of their worries when the dead begin taking over Phoenix. Out of the ashes of destruction rises Wilson. He begins gathering survivors, helping them escape the city and the dead. Along the way, the challenges multiply and Wilson’s behavior becomes questionable. Is he trustworthy or will they all end up being someone’s next meal?

BOOK REVIEW:

Situation Z is a fascinating story about a zombie apocalypse. This was a fun and thrilling read that kept me turning the pages long into the night.

The protagonist, Wilson, was one of the most intriguing characters I’ve read in a long time. While all the characters were fascinating, some were endearing, and others were annoying and fun to hate.

One thing that did bother me about the story was how overprotective the men seem to be over the women. They were always trying to shield them from what was happening around them. It’s a zombie apocalypse! If the women did not develop a thick skin, they were not going to survive. I did enjoy seeing the emotional growth in the women in the end.

Author A.M. Semple did an amazing job building this horrific world, and I also enjoyed the development of all the characters. Her description of the victims’ turning was done so well. The imagery in this book is fantastic.

If you enjoy a well written zombie story that focuses on the characters and keeps you at the edge of your seat from beginning to end, this book is for you.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

LEECH by Ellie Douglas

BLURB:

Captain John Lancaster’s ship is critically damaged in an asteroid storm, leaving John and his crew stranded. Drifting off course. 

He was returning to earth with supplies and samples from planet Sol. When he and his team discover they are not alone on the ship. 

Something is hiding onboard and is taking the crew members out, one by one.  

Will John make it home to see his wife and child? Can he save his remaining crew? 

BOOK REVIEW:

Leech is a short and enjoyable horror sci-fi. Author Ellie Douglas’s imaginative and descriptive writing style is gripping and easy to follow.

Captain John Lancaster and his crew were on a mission to study and collect samples on an Earth-like planet called Sol. The year was 3010, and mankind traveled through space at warp speed, so they went back and forth, to and from, Earth in only a few days, and the captain had been on many missions to Sol. On one of Captain John’s missions, a meteor crashed on Sol. John picked up a smooth, black stone from the crash site and decided to take it back to Earth with him to gift it to his young daughter as a souvenir.

On the voyage back to Earth the rock fell to the floor and broke in half. John’s friend, Nico, picked up the stone and black goo that was stored inside it got all over his fingers and then was quickly absorbed into his skin. After this incident, all hell breaks loose.

Nico became infected with a parasite that ate him from the inside out, multiplied, and then left his body in search of other hosts. With each host, the parasites grew larger until they would no longer need a host. One by one, the crew became infected until it seemed no one would survive. 

I enjoyed this fascinating short story. The characters were lifelike and the dialogue believable. Lovers of horror and sci-fi would enjoy this book.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

THE BONE WALL by D. Wallace Peach

BLURB:

Blue light ripples and crackles as the shield walls fracture. The remnants of a doomed civilization stand vigil outside, intent on plunder and slaves, desirous of untainted blood to strengthen their broken lives. With the poisons, came deformities and powers, enhanced senses and the ability to manipulate waves of energy—lightbenders and fire-wielders.

For those who thrived for generations within the walls, the broken world looms, strange and deadly, slowly dying. While the righteous pray for salvation, Rimma prepares for battle, fueled by rage and blinded by vengeance. Her twin, Angel, bound to her by unbreakable magic, seeks light in the darkness, hope in the future, and love in a broken world. 

D. Wallace Peach’s fourth novel combines elements of fantasy and science-fiction into a character-driven adventure. The Bone Wall foretells of a dystopian world where a poisoned planet no longer sustains its inhabitants. Who survives when there isn’t enough for all? Who decides? 

The Bone Wall begins three hundred years in a post-apocalyptic future. Precisely controlled communities with forgotten histories thrive beneath protective energy fields…until those fields begin to fail. What happens when the facades crumble and the past’s dark truth is unearthed?

Twins Rimma and Angel share this first person tale of a life unraveling and mending. Both are strong female protagonists who chose opposing paths when thrust in the broken and perilous world. The simplistic lines dividing good and evil blur, and beg the question: Can one survive without the other? What is the secret of their lives that even they can’t comprehend?

If grimdark tales of spiraling destruction and redemption crowd your bookshelf, this fantasy adventure desires a place among them. 

The Bone Wall contains scenes which some readers might find triggering. 

BOOK REVIEW:

The Bone Wall is a post-apocalyptic fantasy sci-fi. I was hooked from the beginning because this story was so unique and creative. I also enjoyed the author’s writing style.  

It’s the future, and mankind has survived a worldwide catastrophe. Rimma and Angel were 16-year-old twins who lived in an environmentally controlled paradise within a dome protected by a mighty force field. Their home was called Heaven, and this domed city shielded them from the broken world. Other domes existed housing similar civilizations. However, there were people living in the harsh conditions of the wrecked outside world. They were called biters and among them were the touched many of which had extraordinary powers, including the ability to create fire or bend light. Time and again, biters attacked and tried to breach the dome. Many would leap into the force field only to be disintegrated into bones that accumulated at the base of the dome, creating a bone wall. 

The twins were taught that they, along with their community, were chosen by God to survive and thrive. They were not allowed contact with the outside world. Rimma questioned the laws of Heaven while Angel was innocent and naïve, accepting the teachings of the elders. 

One day Rimma noticed that the shield protecting the dome was operating abnormally. It would turn off in certain areas and sparks would fly. She was shocked to find out that the elders knew that there were issues with the force field. She was told to have faith—that the shield would hold. Sometime later, the weakened shield fades. The biters seized the moment, invading Heaven, attacking and killing many, and taking others as slaves. The twins were suddenly thrown into a world of horror, cruelty, and bloodshed. They became molded by the broken world and their experiences within it.

The story is told in first-person point of view from the perspective of the twins. Rimma, the angry one bent on revenge for the lies she was told growing up and for the death of her father, and Angel the eternal optimist who hopes for peace, love, and harmony.

This is an intriguing and complex story. The writing is beautiful and vibrant, but at times, it was a bit flowery, and the story dragged a bit in the middle. I also had questions. What destroyed the world? I assumed it was a nuclear holocaust. Who built the dome? How was it powered? Why did it fail? There was no explanation given for any of this. Also, only one of the twins was visible at a time to most people, which was both creative and bizarre. However, these things did not deter me from enjoying this well written story with its unique world and compelling characters. I highly recommend this book to fans of post-apocalyptic sci-fi fantasy.

Click on any of the books’ image or title to purchase on Amazon.

To Live in the Zombie Apocalypse

Burlee Vang 

The moon will shine for God
knows how long.
As if it still matters. As if someone

is trying to recall a dream.
Believe the brain is a cage of light
& rage. When it shuts off,

something else switches on.
There’s no better reason than now
to lock the doors, the windows.

Turn off the sprinklers
& porch light. Save the books
for fire. In darkness,

we learn to read
what moves along the horizon,
across the periphery of a gun scope—

the flicker of shadows,
the rustling of trash in the body
of cities long emptied.

Not a soul lives
in this house &
this house & this

house. Go on, stiffen
the heart, quicken
the blood. To live

in a world of flesh
& teeth, you must
learn to kill

what you love,
& love what can die.

Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy the rest of your day!

Poetry Friday ~ There’s something wrong with Emma.

Hi, everyone! I hope you all have had a great start to the new year.

 

First, I have some news. I have a new short story available on Amazon titled, Memoir of a Mad Woman. Today’s poem (my first attempt at a Sonnet) was inspired by this story. Memoir of a Mad Woman is a fictional memoir loosely based on the case studies of a female Psychopath and it’s aimed at an 18+ audience.

Mystery and Attract are this week’s prompt words chosen by Colleen Chesebro ~ The Fairy Whisperer.

*The catch is that we can only use the synonyms to these words in our poems.

Colleen hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called, Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge every Tuesday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your Haiku, Tanka, Haibun, Etheree or Cinquain poem. She is an author and poet, and also does book reviews and so much more on her blog. Be sure to check it out.

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I can’t compare you to another girl.

You are an enigma that frightens me.

In your gleaming eyes I see rough winds whirl,

yet your smile makes me wonder what you see.

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In life alluring souls are born to shine,

and everyone dances in their sunlight.

Except you, because you plan her decline.

Perhaps she’s not what she seems in your sight?

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You see things in ways that others cannot.

Crazy thoughts in your head are real to you,

but in the “real” world would be a long shot.

Your madness is a thing to look into.

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So long as you can breathe, and crazy spurs,

you’ll sing a deadly song of gray to her.

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“Emma had nothing to lose but her mind.”

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Blurb:

A short story from the award-winning author of The Fall of Lilith and Son of the Serpent, Vashti Quiroz-Vega.

Who can explain how madness begins?

This is the story of Emma. Raised by a religious fanatic, orphaned at a young age and sent to a mental institution and an orphanage. Molested and betrayed by the people who should be watching over her…

Who can say that madness has no logic?

During a fight, Emma’s best friend punched her in the abdomen. Since then, Emma has believed there’s something damaged inside of her.

Every month… she bleeds.
She tries to fight it all her life, but the pain and the blood return twenty-eight days later… and the cycle begins again.

But Emma, even in her madness, knows how to take care of herself.
She knows how to make things right…

You may not agree…
But, who can reason with insanity?

Read this sad but fascinating tale and traverse the labyrinthine passages of madness.

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I would like to share a wonderful review written by Author, D.L. Finn.

“Memoir of a Mad Woman” is a short, but chilling read. You’re taken into the mind of a young girl, Emma, who had a very unstable upbringing. Emma ends up in an orphanage. This is where she’s finally pushed completely over the edge. It’s brutal and almost unthinkable what follows. The characters feel real, which makes it all the more terrifying in their cruelty. How Emma responds to what she considers a complete betrayal, you can’t help but to root for her and feel her pain. I thoroughly enjoyed this psychological thriller and felt like I understood her madness. I highly recommend this well-written dark short story.

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I hope you enjoyed this post. Take care!

 

 

 

 

Haiku Friday – Singe & Deep

Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you are all keeping warm. The temperature in S. Florida is 55º F and it’s midday and the sun is blazing! 😮  To us, Floridians that’s like -10º F, anywhere else. Ironically, today’s prompt words from Ronovan Writes are Singe and Deep. Just reading the word singe warms me a little, but it also gives me an eerie feeling. With that being said, here’s my contribution for this week’s prompt challenge.

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“The house is on fire, and it isn’t my fault.” Emily crossed her thin arms as she stared at the burning house. She stood wide-eyed with red lips pursed.

The young female police officer in charged of her, observed her for a while. “Are you okay? I know this is a terrible experience for a ten year old girl to go through.”

The little girl didn’t look her way. She blinked a long blink and gave her a one shoulder shrug. Then she nodded her head ‘yes’, but said, “No, I don’t think so.”

The policewoman tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, I know it’s got to be so hard for you. You can rest assured that the fireman are doing everything in their power to rescue your mother from the fire.”

Emily pressed her lips together, narrowed her deep-set chocolate brown eyes and then gazed at her like a puppy dog. “I left my scrunchy and my favorite teddy bear in the house. Do you think they’re burning right now?”

The policewoman stared at her and narrowed her eyes. She rubbed the nape of her neck and squatted down to be at eye level with the girl. She took Emily by the shoulders and turned her, so that they faced each other. “I think you should come with me. I can take you to the hospital where you can be properly looked after. You shouldn’t be here.”

Emily frowned and wrested her shoulders from her. She turned away and continued to stare at the house engulfed in flames. “Once I had a pet hamster. He accidentally walked into our fireplace. He made the strangest sounds as he burned––it was a he and his name was Agamemnon. Do you know how long it took me to learn that name? I was only six then, but that’s the name my mother wanted to give him. She couldn’t even let me name my own pet.” She grumbled the last sentence. “I would have named him, Apple, because he was round and had red hair like mine.” Her alabaster skin flushed making her freckles appear darker. She lowered her eyebrows and squinted her eyes. “Agamemnon died quickly and stunk up the whole house!” She turned to look at the officer. “Do you think my mom will stink like that, as she burns?”

The woman jumped to a stand and looked at the girl with a shocked expression.

Emily turned her sight to the burning house again. “I’m sure it will take much longer for my mother to die, because she’s bigger. She may stink up the whole block.” She crinkled her pixie-like nose.

“Come with me.” The officer took her by the hand and pulled her toward her squad car.

“No!” Emily screamed. “I want to stay here! I want to see.” She wore a hostile facial expression. She pulled her hand from the woman’s hand and took a few steps closer to the house. Her small chest heaved with every breath. She raised her chin and shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.

The policewoman’s eyebrows bumped together in a worried scowl. She minced her way up to her and stood silently by her side. Her eyes were fixed on the girl and squinted in a furtive manner.

A fireman covered in soot and coughing approached the police officer. He took off his fireman hat and ran his hands through his hair. His face was black with residue from the intense fire, but his agonized expression was clearly seen. He gave Emily a grim look before turning to the officer again. He shook his head. “We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save her.” He lowered his voice some more and moved closer to the policewoman. “The fire got to her before the smoke. She burned to death. It was a gruesome sight.” He turned to Emily who was staring in their direction. “I’m sorry, kid.” He gestured goodbye to the officer and hurried away.

The policewoman wrapped her arms around her body. Her breaths were shallow and rapid. “I’m so sorry, Emily. The firemen did everything they could, but––”

“I know!” Emily interrupted her. “I heard everything the fireman said, even when he whispered.”

The police officer stared at the little girl with eyes glistening with pity, but her expression quickly turned to shock.

A grin spread slowly across Emily’s face, moving all her freckles.

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After the first death

there is no other, you see.

Fire is complete

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“Too many logs can squelch a fire. Flames need room to breathe.”

~Vashti Q

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Singe and Deep are this week’s prompt words chosen by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ron hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

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Enjoy your day and stay warm!

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Short Stories

It’s the middle of the week and that means it’s time for Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Welcome, everyone! I love short stories. I enjoy writing them and reading them as well. I have written several short stories for this blog, although it has been a little over a year since I wrote the last one. That’s because I’ve been so busy working on my Fantasy Angels Series and what little free time I have left after working on my series I use to work on my blog posts, social media, and blogging.

I haven’t had the time to write short stories in a while and that makes me sad because I love doing it. Anyway, I have gotten several new followers since I posted my last short story, so I decided to post the links to some of these stories. That way, those of you that have not read them can check them out, if you like.

A Town’s Perception

Murder She Wrote, Part 2, Finale

Raven’s Masterpiece

A Time to Mourn and a Time to Dance, Part 2, Finale

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“I would also suggest that any aspiring writer begin with short stories. These days, I meet far too many young writers who try to start off with a novel right off, or a trilogy, or even a nine-book series. That’s like starting in at rock climbing by tackling Mt. Everest. Short stories help you learn your craft.”

~George R.R. Martin

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“A short story is the ultimate close-up magic trick – a couple of thousand words to take you around the universe or break your heart.”

~Neil Gaiman

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“I love short stories because I believe they are the way we live. They are what our friends tell us, in their pain and joy, their passion and rage, their yearning and their cry against injustice.”

~Andre Dubus

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“I find it satisfying and intellectually stimulating to work with the intensity, brevity, balance and word play of the short story.”

~Annie Proulx

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Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and posting it on your blog.

Ronovan, from Ronovan Writes and Colleen, have joined forces! He has been linking his #BeWoW blog share (Be Wonderful on Wednesday) now to include: Be Writing on Wednesday. If you would like to combine both posts feel free to do so and link them to Colleen’s post. She will make sure and add you to the quote wrap-up she does each Tuesday. Please make sure and check out Ron’s blog for more writing inspiration and motivation!

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Enjoy your day! And don’t forget to read one of my short stories.

They will haunt you . . . 

A Town’s Perception – Short Story

 

 

Hello everyone! Thank you for visiting my blog today. I’m featuring a short story inspired by a nightmare I had. The nightmare was somewhat bizarre, as night terrors often are, but what I remember of it became the creative impulse that led to this story. I’ll call it a Sci-Fi/Horror.

WARNING: The story is a bit macabre.

 

( ^ Click PLAY to hear soundtrack ^)

 

A Town’s Perception

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

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It began with the moon.

One evening I lifted my eyes to the skies, and the moon appeared to have doubled in size. After that, all sorts of curious phenomena began to occur. Everyone in my small town was in a panic.

Strange swirls of indescribable colors were seen in the night skies. During the day the sun shone blood red and colored the skies pink. It was as if we had been transported to a different planet overnight.

When I saw the ships in the sky, I knew it wouldn’t be long before they came for us, and I was right.

In the middle of the day, they came. I watched them disembark their ships, small groups at a time. They resembled men of diminutive stature with large heads. They appeared to waddle rather than walk. They wore weird metallic suits with respirators attached to their faces.

I rushed to my daughter’s side. She lay on the bed in her room, stared ahead at nothingness and wailed, as she had done for days.

My poor child. Her mind was not equipped to handle this invasion. I held her tight. I would not allow her capture. Who knew what these small creatures were capable of doing to her—-to us.

I pushed the barrel of the gun up against her temple to keep my hand from trembling. The cold metal did not stop her wails. Poor thing, her voice was so hoarse. I would extinguish the fire in her gullet.

I pulled the trigger. She fell on her side, her eyes still open wide, as if she could still see this nightmare. I shut her eyelids and finally gave her peace.

It was my turn. I’d convinced myself, like so many others in this town, that this was the only way out. I was the last to take action since I was taught to always have hope, but even those of us who always have hope had given up.

The priest took most of the townfolk. After his last sermon, he instructed the congregation to get on their knees and pray. While the town’s people prayed, the priest left the church and locked the doors behind him. Then he set the church ablaze.

Pitiful man of God, his mind also handled the crisis poorly. He burned those people alive: men and women, young and old. He had invited my daughter and I to attend his last sermon, and I agreed to go, but my daughter was not doing well, so we stayed home and were saved from a horrific death.

I live a block away from the church, and I heard the screams and howls of the burning souls. I ran down the street and was met with a fiery inferno. The stench of burning flesh and hair made me retch. I released the contents of my stomach right there on the street. What did it matter? There was no one around to watch me. I saw the priest stagger from the back of the burning building. My stomach was tied in knots.

“Demons! The demons are upon us,” he shouted. “If you remain they will take your soul!”

“What are you talking about?” I gasped and pointed a shaky finger at the combusting church. “There are people burning alive in there.” I ran toward the church’s double doors. The heat of the blaze stopped me. I sobbed unable to act. Those were my neighbors. My friends.

“You have to burn! Otherwise the demons will take your soul. I burned them because the fire will purify their spirits.” He stared at me with wild eyes.

My hands flew to cover my mouth upon recognition of what he had done. My legs faltered, and I fell to my knees. I trembled uncontrollably as the priest took steps toward me. I extended my quaking arms before me.

“Stop! Stay away!” I made an attempt to get to my feet, but my knees buckled.

“My dear, you must not remain alive. The demons will take your soul.” His voice eerily calm. He continued to trudge in my direction.

“You’re right!” I shouted. My head nodding briskly. “I know I must die. I must tend to my daughter’s demise also.”

“What? Your young daughter is still alive?”

“Yes, she waits for me at home.”

“No, no, no!” The man of the cloth pulled on his sleeves and shook his head like a madman. “You must go to her! It may be too late already. The demons do not waste time. A young soul like hers is a prime target. Go to her! If her soul is still intact, take her life immediately and then take your own.” He took a lighter out and flicked it on. He bent over and put the small flame against the hem of his cassock.

I tried to scream as I watched the fire spread and grow on the flammable cloth of his priestly vestment, but I opened my mouth and sounds did not leave my lips. I gathered all my strength and lifted myself off the ground. I wanted to run. Instead I barely escaped the wailing priest who floundered, engulfed in flames. I staggered past him. The crackle and pop of his burning flesh lingered in my ears never to be forgotten. Noxious smoke attacked my nostrils. The stench was so great, I could taste it.

The very next day, the little men came.

It’s time now. My daughter is gone. The entire town is gone.

*

A gunshot is heard. Men in white lab coats and facemasks run into a young girl’s bedroom. On the twin bed, dressed in pink, lies a pre-teen girl and a thirty-something-year-old woman. Both females are deceased due to gunfire wounds to the head.

“We’re too late,” one of the men in lab coats said.

“Well, maybe it is for the best,” his partner said. “There is nothing we could have done to reverse the effects of the chemical agent.”

“It’s a shame what happened in this town.”

“Yes, but how could we know Compound K would have this effect on them?”

“No––we had no way of knowing that the solution we prepared to cause infertility in the men and women of this town would turn into a powerful, hallucinogenic, mind-altering drug when combined with their water.”

“We’ll have to look into the town’s filtering system before we try this again in the next small town.”

“I agree, but let’s not allow this small speed bump to deter our cause.”

“Doctors,” a young man interrupted, “you asked for bottled water?” The men nodded and each took a bottle. They hardly took notice of the fellow. The young assistant leaves.

“Of course it won’t deter us. Our cause to save the planet by ending overpopulation goes beyond a few casualties.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call five hundred people a few casualties, but such things happen in the name of science.”

“Absolutely.” The scientist gulps down his bottled water. Suddenly, he sputters. His eyes widen. “Th-thi-this water was bottled right here in this town!”

The other scientist fumbles with the bottle, trying to see the manufacturer’s name.

“How could this small town have a bottled water company?” Wide-eyed and hands trembling, the scientist stares at the lettering on the bottle. He reads, “‘We take pride in our fresh, clean mountain water and we use the highest quality water filtration systems.’ They bottled this water four days ago.” He drops the bottle, and it crashes to the ground.

“No!” his partner yells. “We put Compound K in the water supply seven days ago!”

“Maybe it won’t affect us in the same way as the townspeople. We’ve only drank a small portion in comparison to what they must have drank in the course of several days.” His voice wavers and his body shudders at the thought of having ingested the solution that caused all the townspeople to go mad and kill themselves. The other scientist stares at him, unnervingly silent.

Unexpectedly, the first scientist cries out and recoils. “Stay away from me! Don’t come near me. You will never take me alive!”

“What is the matter with you?” Staring at his partner and looking perplexed the second scientist takes a step back. “Oh, no.” His face slackens as realization hits.

His partner continues shouting, “You’ll never take me alive, Nazi!” He grabs a lamp and charges.

The scientist wrestles with his crazed colleague and seizes the lamp from him. The madman bites him on the shoulder. The scientist beats the man on the head and shoulder repeatedly until the lunatic finally unclenches his teeth and falls to the ground dead.

The scientist falls back against the wall, panting. He slides down the wall, landing in a crumpled mess on the floor. He holds his head in his hands and stares at his partner’s limp body, whose blood meanders toward him. Rivers pour from his eyes. His body shakes and convulses.

His eyes do not reflect what his mind sees.

The flames of hell surround him while demons dance around and torment him with everlasting pain.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

Writer’s Quote Wednesday

Hi everyone! I’m posting this very late today and I have Comcast to thank for that. Since I moved to my new house I’ve had nothing but problems with Comcast and my WiFi connection. It works one day and then it’s out two, three, or four days. I’m getting really frustrated with this situation. Well, my internet is finally working––lets see how long this will last. Okay, I’m done venting.

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday | Silver Threading

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“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'”

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Do you enjoy reading horror novels? What are some of your favorite horror writers/novels?

Short Horror Story – Raven’s Masterpiece

Raven and Nina – Bffs

“Lake Creepy-Crawly”

Nina & Raven

(^ CLICK PLAY for music track)

Ö

Raven’s Masterpieces

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

Ö

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“Raven, I can’t believe you’re really going through with it.” Nina’s face was frozen in an astonished smile.

 

 

“Once you and Travis leave for college, there’ll be nothing left for me in this small town.” Raven frowned. “Besides, I’m an artist, Nina! I need to expand my wings and fly!” She swung her arms outward and fell back on the grass surrounding Lake Creepy-Crawly.

 

 

“But . . . New York is such a big city. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be swallowed up by the masses?”

 

 

“I plan to shine bright like a Nova. By the time I’m through with that town, everyone will know my name.”

 

 

Nina glanced at Raven and giggled. Raven joined in her laughter and suddenly jumped to her feet.

 

 

“Lets go in!”

 

 

“Go in where?”

 

 

“Lets go for a swim in the lake. For old time’s sake.” Raven’s blue eyes glittered with mischievousness.

 

 

“No way! Why do you think the town nicknamed it Lake Creepy-Crawly? If you go in, you won’t be swimming alone. There are things in that lake. They’ll crawl all over you.”

 

 

“That’s not true!”

 

 

“It is!” Nina yelled. “No one has gone swimming there for years. Not since the incident.”

 

 

“Do you mean when the fish died?”

 

 

“It was more than just a few fish. Old man Sam said that the big company out by Expiry road had something to do with it. He saw them dump things into the lake one night. The next morning, the lake’s fish were floating on the surface. Dead.”

 

 

“Old man Sam drinks!”

 

 

“Yes, but he wasn’t the only one who witnessed the dead fish, and everyone knows that nothing grows or lives in that lake anymore, except . . . except those things.” Nina shuddered.

 

 

“It’s been a while since that happened.” Raven looked out to the lake. “Those things have probably always been there. Besides, they’re tiny.”

 

 

“They were tiny. With time, everything changes . . . and not always for the best.”

 

 

Without waiting for the end of Nina’s sentence, Raven ran and jumped into the lake and splashed around happily, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. A powerful feeling of foreboding enshrouded Nina like a suffocating blanket. When Raven finally emerged from the lake, Nina rushed to her.

 

 

“You’re nuts! Sometimes I think you just do crazy things to torment me.”

 

 

Raven scoffed. “Who’s being dramatic now, huh?”

 

 

Nina picked up the blanket they had been sitting on and placed it around Raven’s shoulders.

 

 

“Ugh!” Raven groaned. She tilted her head sideways and pounded on it with the palm of her hand.

 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

 

“There must be water in my ear.” Raven shook her head. “There, I think that did it.”

 

 

“I don’t know how you could swim in that murky water. Look at it—it’s black!”

 

 

Raven waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go home.”

 

 

“Yes! You need a shower.” Nina giggled, pinching her nose and waving her hand as though to clear the stench in the air.

 

 

“Gimme hug! Me want big hug!” Raven joked as she ran after a screaming Nina.

 

 

*Two months later *

“Campus life is great! ” Nina raved on the phone. “I’m really enjoying myself here. I’m doing really well in my classes, and I’ve made some new friends. Oh, and Travis says hello!”

 

 

“That’s great. I’m doing okay, too. I’m painting almost non-stop. I showed one of my works in progress to the manager of a posh art gallery downtown. He was impressed and offered to show my work in early November.”

 

 

“That’s awesome, Raven!”

 

 

“Will you come for the opening?”

 

 

“But we talked about me visiting for Halloween, remember? To see how New York celebrates our favorite holiday?”

 

 

“You could stay through the first week of November,” Raven said in a sullen voice.

 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

 

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

 

 

“You don’t sound like yourself. Aren’t you excited about Halloween and your very first art show?”

 

 

“Of course I am. It’s just these headaches . . .  I can’t seem to shake.”

 

 

“Have you seen a doctor?”

 

 

“No. It’s only headaches. Two Advil, and I’ll be all right.”

 

 

“But if you can’t get rid of it—”

 

 

“The pills will help take the edge off so I can get back to work.”

 

 

“Alright, but if the headaches continue, you’ll need to see someone.”

 

 

“Yeah, well . . .  If I want to have these paintings done by the opening, I’d better get back to work. We’ll talk again soon.”

 

 

“Okay. Bye, Raven. Take care.”

 

 

*One month later*

“Aaaahhhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Get out of there!” Raven pounded her head. She collapsed to the floor and pulled her hair with both hands. She screamed and groaned as she squirmed on the floor of her one-bedroom apartment.

 

A banging on the door did not stop her howling.

 

 

“Miss Raven! Open the door, Miss Raven!” An old woman banged on the door. “That racket is driving everybody crazy!”

 

 

Raven opened the door. Her long dark hair was disheveled and covered a good portion of her face. Her shoulders were scrunched around her ears. Her blue eyes, once vivid azures, were now dull and foggy, with intense redness where the whites should be and deep dark circles underneath. Her usually rosy lips were pale and dry.

 

 

At the sight of her, the building superintendent flinched and squinted, as though trying not to capture all the unpleasantness at once. “Are you ill?” She stared at her wringing her hands.

 

 

“No. I’m fine.”

 

 

“You don’t look too good. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

 

 

“A doctor can’t help me with what I’ve got!” Raven bellowed making the woman jump. “You need to leave me alone.”

 

 

“I have received countless complaints from your neighbors about screaming, loud banging and crashing noises coming from your apartment.”

 

 

“You keep knocking on my door!”

 

 

“And each time you tell me that the noises will stop, but I keep getting complaints from your neighbors.” She added with a grumble, “If the noises don’t stop, I’ll have to call the police.”

 

 

“I assure you–––the complaints will stop.”

 

 

The superintendent narrowed her eyes. “Make sure they do. I don’t want to come back here again.” She turned and shuffled away.

 

 

Raven followed the old woman with her eyes until she was out of sight.

 

 

*

“Hello, Raven. How are you? I’ve been calling and leaving messages, but you never return my calls.”

 

 

“Hi, Nina!” Raven said in an excited voice.

 

 

“Are you alright?”

 

 

“I’m great!”

 

 

“Why are you yelling? You sound manic. Are you sure you’re fine?”

 

 

“I’m just excited to hear from you. I’m sorry about not returning your calls. I’ve been very busy, working on my paintings. I’m all done now! I have left over materials, so I’m using them to decorate for Halloween. You’re still coming up, right?”

 

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

 

“Good! I’m throwing a Halloween party! I’ve invited some friends and neighbors. You’re going to love what I’ve done with the place.”

 

 

*All Hollow’s Eve*

“Raven is going to be surprised to see you. I hope she doesn’t get angry,” Nina said.

 

 

“Why would she? I’m your date for the party.” Travis blinked at her and smiled.

 

 

“She hasn’t been herself lately. Sometimes on the phone, she seems despondent and her voice is barely audible; other times, her voice is excited and shrill. But the last time we spoke, it was more like a groan or a growl.”

 

 

Travis scrunched his brow. “That weird.”

 

 

“She’s been having these terrible headaches, but she refuses to see a doctor. I’ve been calling her all day, but I haven’t been able to reach her. And yet, she knows I’m arriving today. I hope she’s okay.”

 

 

“Well, she’s throwing a Halloween party. How bad could she be?” Travis said. “She’s probably busy putting the party together.”

 

 

“You’re right. Halloween was always our favorite holiday. She’s probably knee-deep in Halloween décor right now. It’s going to be fun.” Nina tried to force a smile. “Anyway, thanks for coming with me.”

 

 

Travis and Nina approached Raven’s apartment building. They rang the buzzer several times, but no one answered. Travis pressed on the inner door, which swung open.

 

 

“Hello,” he called.

 

 

There was no answer, so Travis and Nina started up the stairs. When they reached Raven’s apartment , they found the door ajar.

 

 

“I was expecting festive lights and blaring music.” Travis glanced at Nina with a puzzled look on his face.

 

 

“Why is her door open?” Nina shook her head and bit her lower lip. The door creaked as she pushed on it, and they entered the dimly lit apartment. All the lights were off, except for a small lamp on an end table near the sofa. The curtains were drawn. The smell hit them almost immediately––rancid, jolting, evil—a stench to make the inside of their noses burn.

 

 

“Wow! She really went all out with the macabre theme.” Travis scanned the room his face pinched.

 

 

“What’s that smell?” Nina covered her nose and mouth with her hand.

 

 

“That is one of my best works,” a dark, sinister voice answered. Nina and Travis jolted and directed their eyes toward the voice. Nina’s legs faltered. If it weren’t for Travis, she would have fallen.

 

 

“Raven?” Nina gasped.

 

 

Raven’s skin appeared ashen and leathery. Her ratty, black hair framed her face like heavy curtains. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wore a raggedy long black dress.

 

 

“Do you like my painting?” Raven tottered toward her.

 

 

Nina reached for Travis’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your . . . painting?”

 

 

“Yes, come and have a look.”

 

 

Nina and Travis followed Raven deeper into the apartment. Nina’s heart pounded. A thin film of cold sweat covered Travis’ forehead.

 

 

“At first, I couldn’t figure out what my series of paintings should be about.” Raven waved a paintbrush like a conductor’s wand. “Then an explosion of light went off in my head. Why not make paintings of my neighbors gathered for a great supper?”

 

 

“Interesting concept.” There was a slight tremor in Travis’ voice.

 

 

Nina stepped closer to the painting to have a better look, but then backed away. The stench seemed to be coming from the painting itself. Its surface was slathered in deep red paint and there were rubbery objects attached – no doubt the type of props that gag shops offered around Halloween. Nina looked around. All of the walls were adorned with the dark red paintings.

 

 

“So, you like them?” Raven’s manic tone was back in her voice.

 

 

“Well . . . ” Nina gulped.

 

 

“I like your costume, Raven.” Travis fidgeted and glanced at Nina.

 

 

As Raven brought up her hand, Nina noticed that the handle of the wooden paintbrush had been sharpened to a point. Before Travis realized what was happening, Raven had stabbed him in the chest. He stumbled and fell on his back. Nina wailed, dropped to her knees and began to shake him. He lay still, his eyes wide open.

 

 

“Why Raven? Why?” Nina stared imploringly at the monster that was once her friend.

 

 

“I’m not wearing a costume.” Raven glared at Nina. “Do you like my paintings or not?”

 

 

Nina was sitting on the floor directly beneath one of the paintings. She peered at it through eyes blurred with tears.

 

 

“Well? What do you think?” Raven’s voice became angry and vicious.

 

 

Nina jolted and wiped the wetness from her eyes with trembling hands. She shuddered as she was finally able to see the painting for what it was. Those rubbery objects attached to its surface weren’t from the gag shop – they were real intestines, brains, hearts, tongues, spleens, and who knows what else. How many people died here? Her stomach churned, and she felt lightheaded.

 

 

“Tell me!” Raven stared at her with a wolfish expression. Then she became calm and studied Nina’s face. Suddenly, Raven said cheerfully, “If you don’t like it I can always improve it.”

 

 

Raven lurched over to Travis’ body and grabbed his head, lifting it by the hair. She buried the tip of the large paintbrush into the tear duct and popped the eyeball out. She did the same with the other eye to the rhythm of Nina’s wails. She grabbed the eyeballs dangling on his cheeks and yanked them from the optic nerve. Nina felt an expansion in her head and a weakness throughout her body. She retched several times.

 

 

She can’t have a fainting fit. She has to get to her feet! Nina’s eyes shifted to the door. Raven stood between her and the exit.

 

 

“Here we go. Much better, right?” Raven attached Travis’ eyes to the bowl of soup in the painting. The painted bowl was now crowded with eyeballs. “My neighbors were always watching me, so I decided to paint an homage to their prying eyes.”

 

 

Nina screamed. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. Trembling, she clambered to her feet.

 

 

“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be happy for me!” Raven twitched with rage. “I knew you wouldn’t like my work. Well––I have a few more improvements to make, but for the final touches, I’ll need something from you.”

 

 

Raven lunged at Nina, clutching her filed paintbrush.

 

 

Nina’s legs started moving, as though on automatic pilot. Her heart beat loudly in her ears.

 

Raven chased her, howling ghoulishly.

 

Nina ran to the kitchen. Her eyes darted. She spotted a large knife sitting on the counter. She grabbed it and held it in front of her. Her mind raced and she panted.

 

Raven charged and ran into Nina’s extended arm, which held the knife. Raven stared into Nina’s eyes and moaned. Nina thought she heard her murmur, Thank you.

 

 

Nina released hold of the knife, and Raven slid to the floor. Nina kneeled next to her and rocked back and forth, sobbing. Her mind was unable to fully grasp what had just happened.

 

 

“Why? Why did you do this? Raven . . . why?”

 

 

She saw the answer to her question as Raven took her last breath. They crawled out of her ear by the dozens—the wiggly wormy things she recognized from their hometown lake. The parasites were vacating Raven’s head, no longer having a live brain to feed on.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

 Edible Body Parts –– Bread!

 

 

Okay, before you guys go off the deep end, let me explain. The images of the human body parts are unsettling I know, but guess what? They’re actually bread. Yes! Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Thai artist and baker Kittiwat Unarrom creates these edible bread sculptures and sells them at his family’s bakery!

I don’t think I’d be able to put any of this bread in my mouth without retching, but hey, if you’ve ever fantasized about eating a person zombie-style hop on a plane to Thailand and visit Kittiwat’s bakery and you can do it legally. Read more about this Body Part Bakery and The Walking Bread here. Check out this video.

Yes, all of this is edible!

The Train Ride From Hell – Finale

Happy Tuesday everyone and a warm welcome to my blog! Today I’m posting the fourth and final part of my short Horror series The Train Ride From Hell. I hope you enjoy the finale!

NOTE: You must read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 in order to follow and enjoy the finale.

WARNING: Do not read this series alone or in the dark.

The Train Ride From Hell – Finale

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

“Why do you watch?” the girl asked with furrowed brow. I gazed at her, and this time I felt love for her. I didn’t want her to suffer any longer.

 

“I don’t know, but I will not look out again. You were right to stay in your seat.”

 

“I stay in my seat because I already know what is out there and where I will be going,” she said with her face tight barely able to hide her anger and pain.

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“That isn’t important.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“My stop is Violence. I committed violence against you…”

 

“I forgive you!” I spurted.  She smiled faintly at me.

 

“…and I committed violence against myself–when I slit my throat after stabbing you in the belly.”  My hands flew to my mouth, and I continued to sob.

 

“I’m so sorry for what I did to you–to your entire family. You don’t deserve to be here. You’re just a child who suffered greatly, and you were traumatized by your mother’s death. You deserve a second chance.”

 

“There are no second chances here. I will be transformed into a twisted thorny bush and fed upon by beautiful women with wings. They will resemble you so that I will always remember the face of my victim. Every bite these creatures take will be devastatingly painful to me. Every branch torn and every thorn plucked will cause me unbearable pain and suffering, but every branch and thorn will grow back so that my suffering may be infinite.”

 

“No!”  I couldn’t bear the thought of this. My heart was torn to pieces.  “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

 

“What we want is no longer pertinent.” I looked at her wretched little face. This was my fault entirely–this young girl’s suffering and her ghastly fate. I must somehow undo this!

 

I left my seat and ran up and down the aisles.

 

“Conductor! Where is the conductor? I must speak to him!” I yelled. Immediately,  I heard his voice behind me.

 

“What is it you must say to me?”

 

“Do you have the power to remove someone from this train and release them from their fate in hell?”

 

“I do not.”  My heart sank.  “However,” he continued, “the people on this train have the ability to save themselves.”  The creepy conductor breathed new life into me with his words, and I lifted my head high.

 

“Surely you do not believe you can save yourself?” he sniggered. “You are a greedy, self-absorbed woman!”

 

“I am not attempting to save myself. I deserve whatever comes to me, but there’s someone here that is innocent.”

 

“No one on this train is innocent,” said the conductor in a malicious tone.

 

The young girl approached the conductor and me and held onto my arm, but hid herself halfway behind me. Her hands were cold and trembling.

 

“This girl is innocent! Everything she did, I drove her to do it. She was traumatized and not in her right mind. She deserves another chance.” The conductor’s face altered, becoming still more hideous and wicked, and his irises became red balls of fire. I was frightened, but stood my ground.

 

“She is not wholly innocent!” he growled. I flinched and the young girl hid further behind me. I could hear her whimpering.

 

“I will gladly take whatever punishment was meant for her!”

 

“You have your own punishment to bear!”

 

“Then I will accept her punishment as well as mine! She has already suffered enough because of me. She doesn’t deserve to continue to be tormented for the things I’ve done! It is my turn to hurt. I will suffer on her behalf!” I meant every word with all my heart.

 

The conductor began to grow out of his uniform. His skin became rough and a fungus green. He grew thrice the size, his face so ugly it was painful to look upon. His chest heaved with each audible breath. His long burly fingers balled into tight fists. He growled, and long sharp horns exploded out of his head. He stared at me with his red eyes and snarled, showing me his large, razor-sharp teeth. I trembled and my teeth chattered uncontrollably. I screamed and sobbed as the heat radiated from the monster’s blazing hide, singing my skin. I turned to shield the girl from the inferno, and what I saw stunned me.

 

She was aglow.  Airy.  She looked radiant and happy.

 

“I have been forgiven. Thank you, this was your doing. I am going to a good place now.” With these words her ethereal body floated up and traveled through the train’s ceiling, disappearing from view. “Thank you!” I heard her say again from the distance. I took a deep breath, feeling relief. She was safe now and she would never suffer again. I gaped at the monster before me through squinted eyes.

 

“I’m ready to receive my punishment and hers. Take me to whatever nightmare awaits me.” My voice quavered, but I had made my point. The beast slouched forward and with a thunderous roar, lifted his claws to attack me. I could feel its incredible rage!

 

 

* 

I opened my eyes. The pain was excruciating. Groans escaped my lips. I couldn’t move.

 

“Welcome back,” said a man wearing a white coat. I stared at him in awe.

 

“Can you speak?” he asked in a kind voice.

 

“Yes,” I croaked.

 

“You’re in St. Francis Hospital. You were involved in a serious automobile accident. Apparently you received a serious puncture wound in your abdomen during the crash. You’ve been in a coma for the last few weeks. We didn’t think you would make it, but in the last couple of days, your vitals began to stabilize. I believe you’re going to be alright now.”

 

I must have seemed crazy to the doctor as I began to simultaneously laugh and cry despite the pain. Yes, I will be all right now, and so will she.

 

Copyright © 2014 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

Photograph by Amanda-Diaz (DeviantART)

Leave a comment with your thoughts. ;D

The Train Ride From Hell – PART 3

Hi everyone! I’m so happy many of you are enjoying my short Horror Series The Train Ride From Hell.  Today I’m posting Part 3 of the series. If you have not yet read Part 1 or Part 2 I suggest you read those first.  As always, I must warn you that this is a Horror story, so you may want to read it in daylight and/or with a buddy. Thank you!

The Train Ride From Hell – PART 3

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

I shook my head from side to side. My lips trembled and waterfalls fell from my eyes.

 

“No–please! I didn’t know,” I pleaded. “You’re right, I never thought about the people in the men’s lives who I slept with. If I had known this would happen, I never would have done the things I did.”

 

“It’s too late now,” she whispered.

 

“No, no! I’m sorry. I will change my ways. From this moment on, I will always think of the consequences of my actions. I don’t want to go to hell!” I grabbed the girl by the shoulders again. “Please help me! I’m sorry about your mother. I didn’t know–I would have never had the affair with your father if I had known the consequences it would bring. I will never have another affair. I will respect the sanctity of marriage from now on. I swear!”

 

“It’s too late!” she cried and turned away. My eyes darted from one face to another of the passengers. Some were demons, but others were humans like me, waiting to be taken to the appropriate circle of hell. It was becoming hotter in the train. I was sweating. I was panting heavily, wringing my hands. There’s got to be a way out for me. This can’t be happening to me. I went back to the girl who had returned to her seat. My heart was pounding hard against my chest.

 

“Who brought me here?” I asked. She glanced at me. Her face was ashen and her lips trembled. “Who brought me here?” I insisted. “Maybe if I spoke to the person–or thing–that brought me here I can convince him that I’ve changed and don’t belong here.”

 

“I brought you here–when I killed you,” she hissed.

 

I stared at her dumbfounded. I’m dead? This can’t be true.

 

“I was overcome by grief when I found my mother. She had taken poison. The expression on her face told me it was neither a quick, nor a painless death. I will never forget the look on her face.”  She closed her eyes and released rain from under her eyelids. Then she glared at me.  “I had to make you pay. Now, I am on my way to the last circle of hell to burn for all eternity–with you.”  The look on her face was bleak. My body slumped. I felt hollow, except for the burning pain in my chest. She murdered me, yet I felt only pity for her. I was remorseful for all I had put her through.

 

The train stopped. The passengers did not willingly file out of the train anymore. Tall, sinewy, dark green monstrous creatures forced them to exit, kicking and screaming. Trembling, I inched my way to the opening and looked outside the train. I searched for a sign to tell me where the train had stopped. The sign read: Gluttony.

 

This was a muddy place, and it rained ceaselessly. The rain must have been freezing cold because the passengers that were forced out began to shiver almost immediately once they were outside the train. They were stripped of their clothes and tossed by the green monstrosities into a muddy pit.

 

The rancid, putrefied smell of this place penetrated through the invisible field that kept me inside the train. The ogres took pleasure in physically torturing the people. The people were also forced to wallow in the foul mud and eat mouthfuls of it while the green brutes urinated and defecated within it. It was a repugnant scene. My stomach ached, and I was nauseous. I retched time and time again, but released nothing.

I hurried back to my seat convinced I would not look outside at any of the other stops. I was bawling uncontrollably. I couldn’t imagine spending eternity in a place like this, but the thought of her suffering for all time perturbed me most. I had to do something, but what? What can I do?

Comments are greatly appreciated.

The Train Ride From Hell – PART 2

Hello my friends and welcome to my blog. Last week I posted Part 1 of my short series The Train Ride From Hell. As promised I have posted Part 2 today. Remember there’s a warning attached to this series: do not read at night . . . or by yourself. 😉 Enjoy!

♦

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

♦

Limbo? Where is this place? I’d never heard of Limbo. My mind was reeling. I continued to stare. The place didn’t look too bad. There were green fields and flower bushes. In the distance there was a large mansion surrounded by gates.

 

 

Perhaps I could speak to someone there. Maybe they had the answers I sought and could help me get back home.

 

 

I made an attempt to flee the train, but I couldn’t get past the round opening. An invisible energy prevented me from exiting the train. Suddenly, I felt an ice-cold hand on my shoulder.  It was the conductor.

 

 

“I told you this wasn’t your stop,” he hollered. “Take your seat!” His eyes turned into red coals. I flinched and hurried to sit by the girl again. I stared at her, shivering, still feeling the cold on my shoulder transferred by the conductor’s eerily frigid hand. She glanced at me with sad, moist verdant eyes, then she turned to look ahead.

 

 

“Who are you?” I asked, but she gazed forward. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Who are you? What is this place? Why am I here? Why are you here?”  She screamed and pushed me with such force that I slid off my seat and onto the worm infested floor. Rats came running toward me the moment I landed. They began to bite any exposed skin. I howled and grimaced. I grabbed onto a seat and holding it, I clambered to get on my feet. I sat next to the girl again. I put my feet up on the chair wailing and trembling with fear and pain. She glowered at me. Her chest heaved in rhythm with her breathing.

 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you or hurt you. Please tell me what is happening––why are we on this train?” I waited for her answer.

 

 

“This is no ordinary train, it doesn’t take you to places you want to go.  It takes you to places where you deserve to go.” Tears streamed over her rosy cheeks.

 

 

I stared at her for a long time, trying to understand what she was saying. A drop of slobber on my hand indicated I had my mouth open the whole time. I wiped my hand on my blouse and wiped the dribble around my mouth with the back of my hand.

 

 

“I understand now that I’m not traveling in an ordinary train, and I realize that some of the people on the train are not people at all, but why am I here and how did I get here?”

 

 

“Why do you assume I know these things?” She scrunched her eyes and nose.

 

 

“I just a feeling that I have and you look familiar to me somehow. Please, tell me everything.” If I could have gotten on my knees to beg her I would have.

 

 

“I’m not sure you want to know everything.” She lowered her head.

 

 

I shifted in my seat and faced her. “I do! I do want to know. Please! How much more do I need to beg before you will answer my questions?”

 

 

“Alright. I will tell you everything.” She tossed her long, sooty black hair back.

 

The train came to a screeching halt again. My heart galloped in my chest. Once more the opening appeared. I was overwhelmed with the desire to look out again. I rose from my seat and watched the people getting off at this stop. Some were demons and some were regular folk like me. They looked frightened and sobbed as they trudged to their destiny. Some had to be forced out by the fiends.

 

 

I rushed and joined them. They stepped out of the train with ease, but I hit a wall and couldn’t traverse the opening. I looked out, and what I saw terrified me. There was a frightful storm. The people were blown to and fro by terrible winds. The winds came from different directions and violently tore off their clothes. It smashed them against walls, the ground and each other without rest. Lightning and thunder moved through the area with loud booms and flashes so bright, they caused temporary blindness! The passengers’ faces warped and twisted in horror and pain. The doorway began to close. Before the circle closed completely, I caught a glimpse of a sign, which read Lust.

 

 

A cold wave of realization began to overtake my body. Artic liquid circulated through my veins. I needed to know what the girl with the vivid green eyes knew and I needed to know now! I rushed to her. I grabbed her by the arms and yanked her to her feet.

 

 

“Tell me! Tell me!” I yelled in her face. “Where is this train taking me?”

 

 

“Hell!” she screamed.  “You are going to hell.”  I released her.  Everything spun around me.  My legs were weak and couldn’t sustain me any longer.  I plopped down in my seat.

 

 

My heart was in my throat. “How did I get here? Who brought me here?” My voice was thick and hoarse and didn’t sound like my own.

 

 

“The question you should be asking is why you are here.”  There was resentment in her voice, in her eyes.

 

 

“Why am I here?” I was not eager to know the answer but I had to hear it.

 

 

“You are an evil woman. You hurt people.” She scowled.

 

 

I shook my head. “No! I never hurt anyone!”

 

 

She narrowed her eyes. “You never stopped to think how your sleeping with married men to use them and take their money affected their wives and children!”

 

 

I was speechless as I gawped at her. Her doleful green eyes turned dark as she continued to say terrible undisputed things about me.

 

 

“Like a witch, you enticed my father and put him under your spell. You ensnarled him with your wiles. He became obsessed with you. He stopped trying to hide his affair. He didn’t care who knew about you. Well, my mother knew of you and so did I!” Her face was etched with sorrow.

 

 

Her withering expression made my heart grow heavy. She hung her head.

 

 

“My father became more and more distant from my mother and his children. We no longer mattered. You were all he cared about. My mother could not bear the pain any longer. So she took her own life.” She lifted her eyes from the ground and glared at me. I gasped.

 

 

“You drove my mother to suicide! You killed her and now you are going to hell for it!”

Don’t miss PART 3!