#Writing Horror

[cherry-pop-elf]

Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

[urfriendlywriter]

Horror/Eerie st0ry prompts:

(feel free to use<3 tag me when yall writeee )

"[name], w-why is there blood on your face-"

hyperventilating because your feet just touched blood but there's no body.

"it-it's--fuck, it just moved-"

"stop breathing at my ear, [name] --" and turning around to find nobody beside you.

looking at the mirror but the reflection isn't. looking. at. you.

"we need to get out, this is--a bad idea!"

being stuck in a nightmare.

"don't look back, please, i b-beg you, 'name', don't!"

"look at me-no! hey, no, don't, just focus on me, okay? okay, u got this!"

talking to a person and suddenly they turn weird-their face, and voice changes. their eyes turn white.

learning about whatever that is haunting you

"Do you know (an item that you found) belongs to?" and their face go white. "how. did you. find this."

"we need to run, you moron!"

lights flickering so hard

hallucinating shadowy figures

having your actions controlled by a shadow figure that's moving right outside your room

finding dark bruises all over your body you have no recollection of getting (ok but whys this creepy as fck)

having all things shake violently, fall and break

that gut feeling something is following you (if ure that mc, you'll def go investigating what it is. which DEF WILL GET YO ASS IN TROUBLE)

^ or that it might be progressively getting darker as you walk down a road where not a single life is seen

blacking out and waking up somewhere else

if you lift your head up and acknowledge it's presence-then you're done.

you blink once it's there. you blink again it's not but when you blink once again, it's on top of you, choking you.

"i shouldn't die, damn, i haven't even had my first kiss yet TT " (the comedic relief friend in horror stories lmao)

"are you haunted ?! sigh. do i need to save you? " "if you're not gonna piss your pants, yes please."

"if it ever comes between you and me-" "I'm-" "choose you." "obviously choosing you." "no. no! you are choosing you or i am going in there without you. i don't need to lose you too. understood?" ".... okay."

crying out loud, heaving and shuddering but nobody can see you breaking down

having blood smeared all over you

having to watch yourself slowly loose your identity and go paranoid

not being able to be alone anymore.

[treehuggerthegreat]

Ugh. I love the trope of a character living with a dead body in plain sight but isn’t mentally able to recognize it. Whether they be too young or they are so far gone that they can’t, it’s so. Horrific. Like the moment you REALIZE that there’s a dead body of a loved one just. Sitting there. And they’ve been living their life without missing a beat as it rots in the living room. Bonus points if they acknowledge it but as someone or something else. Like oh that’s not my dead aunt, she’s alive silly! Or oh aunties been sleeping.

They’re so out of it that someone literally DYING (especially when they played an important role in the characters life) that they don’t even notice. It doesn’t even concern them. They are SO wrapped up in they’re delusions and hallucinations (for the mentally deteriorating or disturbed trope) that the smell of a rotting body that only CONTINUES to smell worse doesn’t even hinder them enough to be concerned. To them everything is just fine and peachy. They don’t realize their mom slipped and broke her neck, and it’s not even they that they don’t or wouldn’t care, it could plausibly be that they aren’t CAPABLE of realizing this person is dead. they don’t want to. their mind completely reworks their reality so that she’s very much alive but sleeping, or on a trip somewhere. Or just literally hallucinates conversations with them. Ugh this one is just my personal favorite but.

Pr when a character is so young they don’t KNOW what death is or WHY their mom hasn’t gotten up in weeks, even months. They don’t understand why the house continues to smell worse and worse. They’re forced into taking care of themselves, to being their own adult while this person who was supposed to take care of them ‘sleeps’. I don’t like this one as much as the hallucinations one, because with this one the situation is less malleable and more specific. But it’s still so good. It means that the person who was taking care of them made them feel like they were supposed to do it themselves. They’re too scared to try and wake mom or even if they did try when it doesn’t work, they still don’t get someone else. It could either mean neglect, or oversheltering. It’s just them and mommy. The character either doesn’t trust other people or doesn’t even ASK them because how could they help? It’s just them and mommy. But mommy’s sleeping, so they have to be good so when she wakes up she’s rested and is proud! And on the flip side, the character could be scared and maybe doesn’t want their parental figure to wake up because then that means they get punished or maybe they have friends over or the parental figure just isn’t fun to be around. Loud, obnoxious, or maybe negative and constantly drunk, or maybe the kid doesn’t NOTICE they haven’t gotten up. They’re so independent at such a young age that they can get to school, they can get their own food, and when the food runs out that’s when they get a little concerned. But they’re still young. They don’t know how to long term problem solve or how to QUESTION what’s going on around them. The smell? just avoid it. The food? try to ration or get food from friends and school.

my favorite part is REALIZING that the character goes their daily life around something so horrible and rotting. You could probably tell something was off. Whether with the kid they were quiet or antisocial, maybe a little weird, or with the hallucinations character, you could tell they are a little off their rockers. You never EVER thought it was actually this bad. A dead body? Rotting? for weeks? how does someone let this happen? This poor person. This poor kid. Reality either something they avoid, or has become to make no sense. Reality is what the kid has been told. They were never told what death is or what to do.

It hurts so much more when it’s a character you’ve WATCHED become this way. You’ve seen them interact with their late loved ones before. You’ve seen them socialize somewhat functionally. You know who they actually are and you KNOW how much they cared for this person. But something happens. Or maybe nothing did. But they just grew more and more reclusive. As their mental state deteriorates, so did their living friendships. And the less and less people talked to them, the less and less they bothered to attach themselves to reality or anyone who really was. Then you finally get to see inside their mind, their house, and hope it’s not the worst case scenario. But as you turn the corner into a room or a stairway, you see. You see that it’s so so much more worse than you could have EVER thought. and i lostmy train of thoug

[hayatheauthor]

Ghouls, Ghosts & Poltergeists: What's The Difference?

When it comes to the supernatural, the terms ghouls, ghosts, and poltergeists often get thrown around interchangeably. However, each of these entities has distinct characteristics that set them apart. Whether you're a paranormal enthusiast, a horror writer, or simply curious, understanding the differences can enhance your appreciation of the spectral world.

Ghouls: The Graveyard Dwellers

Origin and Mythology Ghouls are creatures rooted in ancient Arabian folklore, often depicted as demonic beings that dwell in graveyards and consume human flesh. The term "ghoul" comes from the Arabic word "ghūl," meaning "to seize" or "to take." They are often seen as monstrous beings that prey on the dead and sometimes the living.

Appearance and Behavior Traditionally, ghouls are depicted as decaying, grotesque figures with a penchant for haunting cemeteries. They are known for their ability to shapeshift, sometimes taking the form of animals to lure their prey. Unlike ghosts and poltergeists, ghouls are corporeal, meaning they have a physical presence that can interact with the material world in a gruesome and tangible way.

Cultural Impact Ghouls have made their way into various cultures and media, often symbolizing death and decay. They appear in literature, films, and video games, usually as menacing creatures to be feared and fought. Their depiction varies, but their essence as flesh-eating, cemetery-dwelling beings remains consistent.

Ghosts: The Restless Spirits

Origin and Mythology Ghosts are the spirits of deceased individuals who have not found peace in the afterlife. Belief in ghosts is widespread, transcending cultures and eras. They are often thought to linger due to unfinished business, unresolved emotions, or a tragic death.

Appearance and Behavior Ghosts are typically depicted as ethereal, translucent figures that may resemble their former human selves. They can appear as full-bodied apparitions or as mere shadows and mists. Ghosts are known for their ability to pass through solid objects, and they often haunt specific locations tied to their past lives, such as homes, battlefields, or places of death.

Cultural Impact Ghost stories are a staple of folklore and have been passed down through generations. They appear in a wide array of media, from classic literature like "Hamlet" to modern horror films like "The Conjuring." Ghosts often evoke a mix of fear, sadness, and curiosity, reflecting our own fears and fascinations with death and the afterlife.

Poltergeists: The Noisy Spirits

Origin and Mythology The term "poltergeist" comes from the German words "poltern" (to make noise) and "geist" (ghost or spirit). Poltergeists are believed to be mischievous or malevolent spirits that cause physical disturbances, such as loud noises and the movement of objects. Unlike traditional ghosts, poltergeists are often associated with specific individuals rather than locations.

Appearance and Behavior Poltergeists are typically invisible and manifest their presence through physical actions rather than visual apparitions. Common poltergeist activities include knocking, banging, object displacement, and even physical attacks. These disturbances often escalate over time, creating a sense of fear and chaos for those affected.

Cultural Impact Poltergeists have been a popular subject in paranormal investigations and horror media. The infamous "Enfield Poltergeist" case in the 1970s, for instance, drew significant media attention and inspired numerous books and films. Poltergeists challenge our understanding of the supernatural by interacting with the physical world in inexplicable ways.

Conclusion

While ghouls, ghosts, and poltergeists all belong to the realm of the supernatural, they each offer unique elements to the tapestry of paranormal lore. Ghouls, with their corporeal form and ghastly habits, bring a sense of physical horror rooted in ancient mythology. Ghosts, as the restless spirits of the deceased, embody our deepest questions and fears about the afterlife. Poltergeists, with their noisy and often violent disruptions, blur the lines between the seen and unseen worlds.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[thepedanticbohemian]

My writing has been compared to Stephen King, Thomas Harris, Dean Koontz, and Peter Straub. Why? Because I'm unafraid to go there when it comes to disturbing imagery. Gory details don't scare me, though they will likely scare my readers. Sort of the point, really. lol

[includedisco]

My best talent as a fanfic writer is that I am basically 'the little engine who could'- of screwing myself..

...and never learning from my mistakes.

I've been writing for years but I still

Spend more time day dreaming about the plot in my head instead of writing it

Give into the urge to start a new WIP when 99 plus 100 others are waiting 😅

Write several fanfics at once and get the names of my characters mixed up

Get so excited about sharing a work that I post after editing only a few times, then die if embarrassment later when I re-read and see the typos

Go with a storyline minus planning and even post the story, then write myself into a damn corner. Every. Damn.time 🙄

Let myself get excited about a new WIP when I know that that will only kill my fire for the one I've started posting already. My readers are waiting for an update and now I feel like sh*t.

Get more excited about planning to write and creating a playlist for my writing than actually writing.

Am I going to work on these bad habits and improve????? 😂😂😂Of course not.

I'm going to half a** this thing just to get through the day as usual. That's the true fate of an author who has accepted that joy is pain in writing 🤝

[status-quo-book]

[howtofightwrite]

Professional Monster Removal

So, you've been hired to clear out a monster (or monsters) infesting a building in (or around) a modern city. What do you do?

The first problem is that you can't trust what your client tells you. Not in the sense that you think they're intentionally lying to you, but rather, they don't know what they're talking about.

If they tell you it's a vampire, that's basically meaningless. As myths go, vampires are more of a catch all for a staggering number of monsters from folklore, and while you wouldn't want to deal with most of those critters, your options for disposing of them (or even identifying where they are in the building, and assessing how dangerous they are) are far more picky. It's a bit like working as a normal exterminator and when you ask what the client needs removed they only offer, “it's furry.” Yeah, that's not helping anyone, buddy.

Werewolves aren't much better. The modern bipedal wolf monster is basically a Hollywood invention, dating back to the mid-20th century. There's absolutely no folklore support for it. That doesn't mean that in your world that flavor of nine-foot tall snarling deathbeast isn't a reality, but it's going to be hard to research. More often, werewolves were humans who took the form of a wolf, usually through some form of magical ritual. Knowing what that ritual is would be critical to identifying and eliminating them. Of course, this does come with the problem of leaving behind a very human looking body (in some cases), and that could be an entirely different problem, depending on exactly how well job is.

If they tell you it's a demon, that's almost more worthless than telling you it's a vampire. First off, there is no way to know that they've actually got a demon, and not just some random spirit. If they do have a demon, I hope you've brushed up on your advanced theology, because this is going to get extraordinarily messy. And, there's a very real danger that whatever you've run into has the capacity for completely unmaking small parts of reality. Or it could just be an unusually malicious house cat. Really, demon is even more of a catch all term for, “something we don't understand, but we're pretty sure it scares us.”

If it's fairies? Run. Just run. You're not getting paid enough for this, they can have their deposit back. It'll be fine. They're smarter than they look, and way more malicious and vindictive than you realize.

Just walking away is also pretty good advice for any esoteric, “list of rules,” you may get handed. Sometimes, this is pretty obvious safety considerations, like don't wander around in darkened rooms while the critter is loose, but when you start seeing things like keeping to a schedule, that's a very good sign that, either, whatever you're dealing with is sophisticated enough that some simple rituals and a catch pole will not get the job done. Or, alternately, someone (probably your client) is using you as bait,  or planning to feed you to the critter. This overlaps pretty strongly with the warning about fairies above, the Venn diagram isn't a perfect circle, but there's a lot of overlap.

Now, this doesn't mean you should ignore your client, but it does mean, you're going to need to do a lot of footwork after they hire you. This is not the fun kind of research. If they say vampires, you're going to need to be conversant in the many, many, vampire myths throughout human history. Sometimes you can shoot them. Sometimes you need silver and garlic. Amusing, on the cliché of, “forget all you know about vampires...” there is one element of folklore that actually doesn't exist; vampires don't need your permission to enter a dwelling. Now, a lot of vampires are extremely obsessive compulsive (yeah, this is the hilarious moment where you realize Sesame Street's Count has a legitimate grounding in folklore), so, they may want that invitation for psychological reasons, but it's not a mystical barrier that will protect you. Get them angry enough and they will forget themselves, cross the threshold, and rip you to pieces. (Though, in some cases, churches and temples may repel them. It goes with the holy symbols thing in general.)

That said, the holy symbols isn't specifically a vampiric vulnerability, more just a general ward against monsters, when it pops up. So, this is one to be very cautious of, but it can be useful in a lot of situations if you're receptive to that.

When you're doing your initial walk through, of the residence, keep an eye out for certain tells. You'll pick this up with practice. The direct signs of the critter are always nice, but finding secondary evidence of regarding the site's residents shouldn't be ignored. Keep an eye out for large amounts of esoterica, evidence of objects having been recently removed from the site (or recently added to it), evidence of ritualistic practices (often these will originate from the human residents themselves, rather than the critter, but, obviously, that's not always the case), and other anomalies. You're not just looking for tufts of fur, or forensic evidence, you also need to know why the critter is there.

So, you've identified your pest, hopefully. Under the best possible circumstances, you should now have a roadmap for dealing with these things. Here's the bad news, in some cases, that won't actually give you any tools to deal with it. A distressing amount of folklore will tell you how to avoid dealing with the critter in the first place but then washes its hands of what to do after the critter has been provoked.

Worse, and more frustratingly, folklore will sometimes give you bad information. Yeah, the biggest problem with folklore is, the more dangerous the critter, the less reliable your information will be. If someone offers you to clear out a nest of crawlers, my advice would be to not do it alone, and don't get too attached to the people you work with. There is no reliable folklore on those things, and 99% of the, “lore,” that does exist is internet fiction, written by people trying to spook each other out. As for sifting out that last one-in-a-hundred? Good luck.

This brushes against a related topic, you cannot trust research you pull off the internet. Obviously, things are a little different when you're digging through well documented myths, but when you start getting into more esoteric topics, the signal to noise ratio hops off a cliff. This doesn't mean the internet is useless, it can be useful for a brief overview (if you have the time to sort things out), and of course it's amazing for communicating with your colleagues. However, expect that when you need to dig into local folklore, you're going to need to spend time in the city's libraries, digging through books no one cares enough to scan and post online. For the most part, newspapers have been saved and uploaded, though if you're in the middle of nowhere, you might run into a small town paper that hasn't kept up to date.

So, what do you need to do? Remember that your job is to remove the errant critter from the site, not necessarily kill it. (Try to avoid those stipulations when you can. It can result in really unfortunate situations when you're dealing with something that literally cannot die.) Prioritize elimination in cases where the creature cannot be moved, or will return to the site regardless what you do, but remember you're getting paid to remove it, not to play hero, and you're certainly not getting paid enough to die over a spelling error in someone's circle of protection.

This brushes against a (hopefully) rare problem; amateurs. Yeah, it doesn't matter how much research you do, if your perfectly baited trap gets trampled by some bumpkins who broke in with shotguns and flashlights because they heard some monster was on the loose. Mercifully, these guys are a self-solving problem more often than not. If the critter kills them, then they're not your problem. In some rare cases, amateurs can even be useful, either as bait, or as a new vessel to get the critter off the site and make it a problem for someone else. If that sounds callous, remember that between their poor trigger discipline, misplaced hero complex, and unpredictability, they're more dangerous to you than the monster you're trying to evict. Sure, a century old specter that preys on hope is going to be harder to kill, but these guys are just dumb enough to shoot you in the head if you startle them. Or if they get it in their heads, somehow, that you're the one responsible for the infestation in the first place.

If you're, “lucky,” enough to get repeat business, that's probably a bad thing and the client is not going to be happy about it. In these specific cases, (assuming it's actually a new critter, and not a case where the original one wandered home after being released somewhere distant), your priority changes to identifying what brought the creature back here. Some critters are extremely territorial, and will return home no matter what you do (these are times when you really do need to find a way to permanently eliminate it.) However, if various critters of the same variety found the place appealing, presumably independently of one another, then you need to identify why. Again, this going to take some research, and you might even need to bring in a specialist (if you have access to one.) These kinds of situations can be really frustrating because the client is likely to be pissed with you over the new infestation, and believe its due to your incompetence, not because they didn't disclose critical information the first time round.

Checking city records regarding the place, even land claims and the history of a place become significantly more important on a return visit. (Now, if you're being thorough, you should have checked this the first time, and sometimes you'll even have time to, but if we're being honest, that stuff is rarely relevant, and you won't often have the time to dig through city records.) On the bright side, in the 21st century, a lot of those kinds of records are now available online, and free, so the days of wandering around in some sub-basement of city hall are (mostly) a thing of the past.

This is just napkin math, but figure that about one in four infestations can be traced back to a human cause. Either someone moved into the critter's territory and it's trying to drive them out, someone did something “very bad” and now they have a critter focused on them, or (worst of all), someone deliberately brought the critter here, lost control of it, and now wants you to remove it. The first two can result in repeat business if you simply remove (or even eliminate) the infestation, first time around. The third can also result in repeat business as well, but with a critical tell, the client's going to be fine with bringing you back. This isn't necessarily a red flag, but it is something to be cautious of.

Note that, in cases where the critter is focused on hunting down a specific individual, it may be in your best interest to simply stay out of its way. Actively helping the creature is a major liability risk, as you'll now be implicated in their death, but again, your job was to remove the creature from the site, and if that's accomplished, you can point to your contract and move on with your day. Similarly, getting in the  critter's way can be a very bad idea. That said, there's no guarantee the critter will voluntarily leave after it's managed to satisfy whatever's driving it. So, this becomes just one more consideration you need to weigh.

So, what do you do? Pay attention to the details, identify the critter, use that information to formulate a plan, and never forget that you're not getting paid to die on the job.

-Starke

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[shouldbepersephone]

does anyone else get more inspired by bad stories than good ones? like i’ll be on r/nosleep, regretting reading My Immortal, or watching a late stage marvel movie like, fuck dude maybe my ghost metaphor for sexual maturity WIP is actually worth writing

[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 18

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Par 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 , Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Word count: 3.8 k

Synopsis:Jade stood on the edge of the ocean looking out at the never ending water. It was cool in the evening, she had been walking for so long in the heat she had forgotten what it felt like to feel cool. Dropping her bag, she carefully divested some of her clothes, looking around to make sure there wasn’t anyone watching her.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout expect typical horror, blood, gore, death, weapons, memory loss, death, hunting, monsters, guns, torture, swearing,

***

The heat was brutal she had thought she knew the sun, but it was nothing like this. Sitting directly on top of her, beating down on her like an unending wave of fire. She had stripped most of her clothes off at this point, cutting the lower part of her pants into shorts. Her big jacket she had turned into a makeshift umbrella. It kept the sun off of her skin. She did not need burns on top of everything else. The sweat pouring off her and pooling in her lower back was almost as uncomfortable as the blisters on her heels. The pavement was just visible below the sand. 

“Goddamn, it is hot out here.” John groaned for the four hundredth time. “Think there should be a well close by.”

Jade rolls her eyes, hoping to the stars he’d get the point and stop whining. John had insisted on coming with her; he would be her ‘guide’ through the scrublands. She was pretty certain that she would have been able to follow the signs and roadways to where she needed to go. But the man was insistent he take her, make sure she got there ‘safely’. Jade wasn’t certain John would make it there in one piece. 

“I wonder where all the sand comes from.” John murmurs, stopping to empty his boots. “Does the sand not bug you?”

“No,” Jade replies bluntly, wondering if she could just push him into the prickle bushes and leave him there.

John pouts, but keeps walking, taking another sip out of his canteen. “Why are you so interested in finding this ghoul?”

A sigh escapes her lips. John had asked this before. She had been less than happy to reply, mostly cause she didn’t have an answer. It was just a feeling, a stupid feeling, that had led her here. Ever since the flood of memories had come back she couldn’t stop thinking about him. The memories were still scattered, half-baked, and not in continuity. But she knew he was important to her, important enough that she had to find him. 

“Don’t know, just need to find him,” Jade replies, her ears picking up something moving through the sand. 

“So you are walking aimlessly to find someone, and you don’t know why?” John prods some more, wiping sweat from under his hat. He is still in pants that jiggle loud enough to raise the dead. He had more stuff stuck in pockets than she had in her backpack. 

Jade pauses, looking to her right, eyes scanning the brush around them. John continues to ask questions and walk further away from her. His voice fading out of focus as she narrowed her focus on the sound. Grains of sand tinking against the other, as something much deeper moved, it was getting closer to her. 

A monstrous mass of teeth push out of the sand, a beige undulating body flops onto the pavement, its long body seeming to never end as it lunges towards John. Jade’s mouth opens to call out to him, but it is too late. The thing hits the man faster than a Yao Guai. The worm’s jaws snapping closed before it burrows back under the sand. 

Jade freezes in place, staring at where the man once was. Heart hammering against her ribs as she looks at the spot it dove in, she could see the sand moving further out. How many of these sand worms were there? Was it going to come back and find her?

Without a second thought, Jade starts to run. She isn’t sure where she is running to, but she was not staying here. Her foot falls slapped against the hard ground under her, the echoing bouncing off the various vegetations as she moves. Her head moves back and forth looking for any sign of the worms present. The world was going muffled as panic washes over her like water, trickling down her neck like sweat. Bile pushes at the back of her throat as her breath pushes out of her lungs. 

To her left she sees the bush starting to move, the sand buckling and wrinkling like water. It was heading back towards the roadway. Jade dove forward, flatting her body against the roadway just as the beast makes a jump over top of her. It makes almost no noise, just the clenching and chittering of the teeth grinding against each other. Jade’s hand clamping over her mouth as she watches it sink back under the sand. Breath coming in small gasps, she gets up and looks around. 

Sound.

It could hear her. Jade slows her breath, willing her heart to calm down. As she slowly scans left and right. Nothing. The sand and the bushes were quiet. She looks down at the pavement. It didn’t burry through the roadway, which meant for now she was on a small island of safety. 

A strangled scream roars out of the sand about 100 feet forward to her right. A worm’s head is out of the sand. John’s screams are coming from inside it. She can hear him trying to get out, gunfire, the slosh of blood. Jade hesitates for a moment, knowing that as soon as she steps off the tarmac, she is at risk. The chances of there being multiple worms was high, but she was not going to sit there and listen to the man get eaten. 

Jade pulls her machete out off her back, dropping her bag and jacket as she runs. She needed to move without issue, needed to be fast and accurate, or she would be the next one in the worm’s belly. 

The worm was thrashing side to side, its head bashing into the sand as John screams. It shoots up into the air, at least four times as tall as Jade. She can see at least one knife sticking out of it. John’s voice is incoherent babble at this point, too far for Jade to hear more than screams. She takes the machete and swings it with all her force into the side of the critter. It hits with a crack, the blade bouncing off without so much as a scratch on its skin. 

“Shit,” Jade cusses, looking up at the thing. She hits again and again, but she might as well be hitting stone. The worm doesn’t take notice thrashing about in the air, the monster’s big body trembling and shaking. 

With another cry, the head of the worm dives down towards the sand, John is wailing as it comes plummeting towards the sandy floor. The worm’s mouth closes into a perfect shovel shape to dig back into the sand. Jade flails backwards as the monster’s back end flips her towards the pavement. She is up and running back towards safety, grabbing her things as she goes. Once on the hard ground, she sits down, whole body trembling. 

“Fuck, John.” Jade whispers, realizing that she is not going to be able to save him. The little she had in her stomach coming up to splatter the ground beside her. 

She draws her knees up to her chest, looking out over the sandy landscape around her. The sun setting just behind her. Casting colors of pink, purple, and red across the landscape. It would have been beautiful if not for the situation that she was in. Tears spring from her eyes, hot and fat rolling down her cheeks. Sniffing, she wipes her nose. John was not her favorite person, but getting eaten by a worm was not something she’d wish on anyone. 

The tears pouring not just for John, but for Cooper, and the lost memories. For her brain being so scattered, she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was a memory or dream. She cries because nothing made sense, and yet all she could do was keep moving. Life was cruelly unfair, and it seemed hellbent on showing that side to her as often as possible. 

***

It had been a day since she had last seen a worm, three days since she had found the bandoleer laying on the ground as she walked. Seven, since she had heard John’s screams, it still echoed in her head. She had only heard him the one time. The worm, or more likely worms, had risen out of the ground several more times to grab some lizards, and a big bird that had made the mistake of landing on the sand. It had meant she was mostly relying on water in her canteen and rationing the small amount of dried goods she had. 

A choked laugh came out of her mouth when she saw faded signs that read WORMS. Its arrow pointing behind her down the road. If only there had been one on the other end. She hopes that there is no more worms passed the sign. A long cement wall divides the sand in either direction. It is dilapidated, and worn from years of being beaten by the sun, not nearly high enough to stop the worm from jumping it. Maybe it had been at one point, Jade wondered, continuing to trek further down the road.

She watches the sunset. It was easier to walk at night, but sleeping during the day was almost impossible. It was like laying on a wood stove during the day at night it was just warm enough to keep her warm without other clothes. A floral smell was floating along the air, cactus flowers bloomed at night, cactus flowers almost meant cactus fruit. Stopping, she follows her nose to her left. About a dozen feet away is a large cluster of cactuses in bloom. As she squints, she can see at least a dozen prickly red and pink fruit. 

“Motherfucker.” Jade sighs, her voice horse, and cracking from lack of water. “You couldn’t have grown like ten feet closer.”

Chewing at her lip, she looks around, spotting a large stone not far from her. Walking over, she grabs it, chucking it up and down as she looks around. Leaning back, she whips it towards the cactus. It hits the ground with a thump. Jade automatically ducking down at the loud thump. Her eyes scanning every direction, straining to hear any movement. 

A skitter has her flat on her stomach, eyes screwed closed as she waits for a worm to rise out of the desert. Instead, a small lizard scampers in front of her, eyes moving this way and that. It stood in front of her, little stomach moving as it breathed. The lizard came closer to her, head tilting to the side. Before it jumps forward and latches onto her finger. 

Jade lets out a small gasp as she flicks it off her hand. “You little shithead.” 

Rolling up onto her butt, she watches the thing watch her, before it scampers away over the sand. Jade lets out another laugh. “Kill or be killed, little dude.”

Her bag hits the ground before she walks towards the sand, standing there for a moment. Wondering if she was really safe to walk over there, or if the sickly sweet cactus flower is luring her to her death. Letting out a breath, she takes one step, then another, before she is running towards the cactus like a crazed person. She reaches the plant and does a small jig as she looks them over. Pulling out a knife, she carefully plucks half a dozen fruit off the cactus before running back to the road. 

“Fuckin yes! I win!” Jade shouts, dancing around on the road. “I got cactus fruit, you ugly ass worms.”

Jade flunks back down on the road, gently placing her knife down beside her. She digs around in her bag, finding matches to start a small fire. It was essential that she burn the small fuzzy barbs off the cactus fruit before eating them. It took her a few minutes per fruit, and another few minutes for them to cool. The taste was divine, her eyes rolling as she slurps them down one of the fruit before falling back onto the hot road, looking up at the twinkling stars. 

“I am sorry, John.” Jade whispers to the stars. “I bet you’d have liked these. Then again, you’d probably make some smart remark about me tasting better.” She rolls her eyes, laying there listening to the quiet of the desert. It was weirdly peaceful. How could some place be so chaotic, cruel, and heartless, yet so beautiful?

***

Jade stood on the edge of the ocean looking out at the never ending water. It was cool in the evening, she had been walking for so long in the heat she had forgotten what it felt like to feel cool. Dropping her bag, she carefully divested some of her clothes, looking around to make sure there wasn’t anyone watching her. The last was her boots. She had just picked them up. A trade between a cobbler for a fresh lizard hide. 

Walking carefully through the still warm sand, she dipped her toes in the water. It was surprisingly warm, but still much cooler than the beach. Letting out a small sigh, she walks until she is mid calf. Her eyes always moving and scanning. Cool water was a balm against the never ending heat. The water was most likely irradiated and filled with stars knew what; but it was cool and for right now, she’d take a moment to let that sink in. The lengths she had walked had felt unending, the creatures she had seen made her heart hammer. She could confidently say she had seen most of what the desert wastes had to offer. Not including the run in with the BOS. The thought was enough to make her leave the water and get herself somewhere out of sight.

The Brotherhood of Steel had been a myth before she had run into one of those giant tin-cans. She had accidentally crossed paths with them while walking through a vacant town. They had been looking for some old world tech, and thought Jade might have had it. This had started a chase, Jade was agile and fast, but their weapons were more sophisticated than she had seen before. The shots had stung through her chest worse than anything she had felt before. Her hands trying to stop the bleeding before she had blacked out. 

After waking up in the clearing with no signs of them, she had left in a hurry. From the rumors she had heard, they could have been anywhere in the area. Jade tucks herself in some beached wood. Making sure that she could see around herm but most wouldn’t see her. The wounds on her stomach and chest had finally healed into several cap sized scars. 

Now it was just finding, Cooper. All she had was rumors, so many damn rumors that had her running all over the place. Most led nowhere, but there have been a few places. A large industrial building had been her closest so far. It had been near Dayglow, and had a coffin sized hole outside it. Inside there were bloodstains and empty medical kits. From what she’d gathered, they had been keeping Cooper buried in a coffin that Dom Pedro would dig him up and torture him. The trail had led here. She was hoping that once she woke, she’d be able to find more of a trail. Even if it took her to another empty hole, at least it was getting her closer. 

She could not get comfortable, the hairs on her arms kept standing up. It felt like her ears were twitching, straining to hear something that wasn’t there. She wants to yell in frustration, but knows better. There was no one nearby that would be a friend, or even helpful. Jade had given up on that after John had died. 

“Can you believe what he did?” A man slurs, Jade’s whole body going stiff. “I am not fond of Ghouls, but that was fucked up.”

She moves her eyes towards the tree line at the top of the beach, three men stumbling along via moonlight. Their movements were uncoordinated and disjointed as they struggled to keep up with each other. 

“Would have been kinder to just kill’em.” Another man grumbles, and helps his other friend stay up as they sway along the way. 

Jade shifts as quietly as she can so she can see them more clearly. One tall, stocky man with a large cowboy hat, a shorter man bald, and one in-between with some kind of mask covering his face. All three had large brown bottles in their hands. Probably some kind of moonshine.  

“Dom is a mean son of a bitch.” The little man pipes up, the tall man slaps the back of his head, causing him to trip over and fall onto the sand. 

“Don’t say his name.” The tall man hisses, as the masked man helps the little one up. “Last thing we need is him coming after us.” 

Little man tackles the tall man, bottles dropped as he starts to strike him. The mask man sits on a large stone taking a swig of the liquor as he watches the two scuffle about on the ground. They throw hands like they’ve never owned a set before, neither really landing much of a blow. Jade almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it. Two adult men scuffling on the ground over nothing. 

Jade shifts more, carefully extracting herself out of her makeshift fort. She was going to follow these three knuckleheads. They knew where Cooper was and had seen him recently. Plus, they were so drunk they’d have no idea she was following them. 

“Alright, alright.” The mask man yells, “You two radrat assholes, we got places to go.” He kicks at the both until they let go of the other, the small man goes to punch him as he gets up. The mask man pushes him down onto the ground again. “I said enough! Or I am taking the caps and leaving you to rot.”

The tall man gets up, grabbing his fallen hat and spitting on the ground. The small man gets up, grumbling something Jade can’t hear from her hiding spot. There is more scuffling as they continue down a path that was mostly covered by brush. Jade carefully walks along shore, doing her best to stay in the shadows. She gives the men a few minutes before following behind them, constantly looking to make sure she wasn’t being followed and that she had a place to hide.

Surprisingly, despite how loud the morons are, they make it a makeshift shack and seem to settle down. Jade keeps back watching the shack for a good while. The forest is alive with small bugs, birds, and other critters moving around. The longer the shack was quiet, the louder the forest got.

Crouched down just within sight of the shack, Jade comes up with a plan. She was good, but chances of taking all three in a fair fight were not high. Right now they were drunk, but she needed at least one to help get her back to the Ghoul. For now, she would wait, let them fall asleep, and then she would strike.  

***

The sun was pouring into the little spot, Jade leant against one wall waiting for the morons to wake up. She was currently finishing off a small bag of berries she’d found on the shorter of the three. She had already figured out who she was taking, and who would probably end up dead. The masked man was about her height and build, close enough that she could take his mask and get into wherever Dom Pedro was without notice. It would just be a matter of who she’d take with her. 

The taller man shifts in his spot, eyes blinking as the sun hits his face. His brows furrowed as he tries to move his hands, only to find that they’re tied behind his back. A flurry of kicks and rocks happens, waking the other two men up, who do the same struggle dance. 

“I wouldn’t bother, those hemp ropes have you tied better than most.” Jade replies, dropping the now empty bag onto the ground. 

The three men’s eyes turn to her, white flaring as they take her in. The short one struggles, but manages to sit himself up. She can hear him cursing her from under the gag. The scared man, more resembling a Ghoul than a man has also sat up. He struggles the most against the binds.

Jade rolls her eyes, walking over and pressing one booted foot into his chest. “Look, listen, and shut up.” 

The three stop moving, all looking up at her. Jade reaches down and removes the scared one’s gag. A roll of insults has her stepping on his face with a groan. Turning, she looks at the other two, trying to decide which one will actually give her any info. 

“I need to know where Dom Pedro is keeping the Ghoul,” Jade looks between the two men, the smaller man nods his head. “If I take this gag out and you start swearing I will cut your tongue out.”

To make the point, she pulls out a ridiculous large dragger than she kept for these sorts of interactions. Putting the tip directly under his chin, she then pulls off his gag. 

“You will never make it anywhere near -” Jade leans down swiftly, grabbing his ear, slicing it off. The man wails as she stuffs the ear and the gag into his mouth. 

“Well, I guess I will just have to kill you all and backtrack the way you came,” Jade states, kicking at the tallest man. He won’t even look at her. She gives it a chance anyway, ripping off the gag.

The man squirms back, shaking his head, “L-l-look. Please. I can take you to him.” 

Jade shifts, moving away from the other two, she leans over top of the man. Doing her damndest to seem intimidating, it seems to work cause the guy is looking everywhere but at her. 

“I want you to take me back to where he is.” Jade hisses, her head snapping to the side as she hears someone move. The man with scars has partially got out of his binds. Her gun is in her hand without a second thought. 

“You really want to die today, don’t you?” She says as she levels the weapon at his head. The man’s face twists as he puts his hands over his head. 

Jade’s brain is moving as quickly as it can, she is going to be overtaken if she doesn’t react. She pulls the trigger. The scared man blinks once as blood drips out of the hole in his forehead. Spinning the knife, she stabs it deep through the small man’s shoulder and into the wood floor below. Turning, she looks at the taller man, her heart barely skips a beat despite the carnage that is around her. 

“You better keep your word.” Jade spit at him, the small man screams against his gag, trying to move against the blade. Only hurting himself more as he wiggles and squirms against it. 

***

I blame Jade for taking me off track on this one, there was just more to happen before Cooper was found. I've mostly written the next chapter! Plus I've also have started writing my Wade felton horror au coming soon!

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

@dichromaniac @dionneroyal49 @whatsorceressisthis

@southernchildcactuswild-blog

[hyba]

I'm gonna take a moment to gush about my horror writing course, because I legitimately haven't felt this good about a project in ages. And this isn't about selling you the course lol; I just want to talk about this feeling. It's amazing.

I've been in the worst reading slump of my entire life for like, literal years now, and have been trying to claw my way out of it. But! For this course, I have willingly read dozens of journal articles, and was actively engaged with them, and it felt so good. I mean - I'm about to dive into a huge 500-pg book on horror literature to help supplement my course and build some more connections with the claims I'm making and the lessons I'm providing and I'm just. Loving this.

I forgot how much I loved research. Pure, fascinating, down-the-rabbit-hole research. Warms my bones.

(Nerd alert, am I right?)

I think the content itself definitely helps. I mean, what isn't fascinating about horror in all of its facets - literature, writing, psychology, sociology, history, etc.? It just sucks you in, there's no other way to describe it. A fascinating, intriguing, engaging, alluring, juicy topic if ever there was one.

And I get to make a course out of it. Like, an academic course on what I think is one of the juiciest topics out there. What even is my life right now?

Anyway, I just wanted to put that out there. I'm so excited to just finish this project and share the course. The hope is that the course comes off feeling like stepping into the most intriguing university lecture of your life.

I am just. So stoked for it. (Heh. 'Stoked'. One of the lessons analyzes Bram Stoker's Dracula. I get to read Dracula for my course that I'm making? Like, it's part of the job? Very stoked indeed. And I get to watch spooky movies and listen to horror fiction audio dramas and podcasts to "analyze" them. There's gonna be a lot more than analysis going on, lemme tell you that much. Popcorn, chocolate, movie nights, here I come!!! AND I get to play and watch people play horror video games - mostly the latter because I'm not about that stress lol.)

I'm just. I'm so excited. One of my passion projects, finally coming to life. And it's fun. And it hasn't stopped being fun.

It's been a while since that's happened for me.

Alhamdulillah.

[meerawrites]

10 facts about The Vampire Emery (my oc)

has bipolar 1 disorder (if I assigned him a Vampire: The Masquerade Clan he'd be a Malkavian)

Bisexual-biromantic

almost died of tuberculosis and cholera in 1830s Paris before receiving vampirism

inspired by Nicolas de Lenfent, Lestat de Lioncourt, Enjolras and multiple TV characters

a gentleman (in theory), until he is not

noted bi disaster, it's gotten him trouble multiple times

a bad streak with partying (and girls)

Took part in the June rebellion of 1832

served time in prison for his part in the June rebellion before his grandfather bought him out of prison

for all the vampire horrors he takes a moral opposition to the death penalty and most systems of capital punishment, basically his own kind would call him "too nice" (derogatory) and "a socialist" (derogatory) and the humans would call him "c.ommie" (negative meaning)

Playlist.

[a-thousand-attempted-words]

So you wanna write better

Forests!

Dont worry, its not that hard! By the end of this, you'll most likely have some extra juicy ideas on all the things you can put into your forrest scenes (from a certified "I live next to a forest and also studied this" person).

Ive divided this into Emotions, Smell, Sound, Sight and Feel. Scroll to whichever part you need help with!

The literal forest

Forests are places of change in literature. That doesnt mean every forest needs to change your protagonist. But because they are often vast, unclaimable and dangerous - not to mention mythical and powerful, primal and maybe divine - they tend to have an effect on your protagonist.

A place of change (or power) can mean many things, and depending on your story and your stories culture, this might not apply. But generally speaking, a forest is a large and uncomprehensibly complex thing that provides an opportunity to face nature.

But! Remember that this thinking stems from the culture vs. nature debate in literature and you do not have to follow it.

The natural forest

Emotions

By day, a forest looks very different than by night. Its almost a beast in itself, a gnawing machine that does not care for you.

How does your protagonist feel by day, when everything is bright and loud and endless and green? When water gurgles and birds chirp at them. How do they feel by night, when lack of light makes shadows endless and the reduced sounds echo in a vast and uncaring void? Does their campfire provide enough warmth against the elements? Do they have lanterns, flashlights, specialty goggles that allow them to see? The forest creaks and shouts without them needing to witness it, it echoes and enlarges sounds, swallows them too. Are they familiar with that? Does their heart raise at the foreigness of it all?

Horror

Remember that cityfolk tend to be freaked out by forests much more than ruralfolk. Remember that sounds that could be familiar to you (the creaking of wood with heat and cold, the strange chirps of birds, the blubbering of a spring) could be completely foreign to another. Remember that everything Ive written from here on out relies heavily on familiarity. Remember that the size of a forest also determines how calming it is.

How far are you from civilisation? Who could come to help you? Which animals are out there? Which familiar sights arent around you at the moment?

A forest that leaves you stranded and closed off from civilisation is terrifying to everyone who doesnt know the land. It is a maw. It could bite down any moment. A forest without signs, without manmade paths, without civilisation is a place to die in. Or a place to get lost in. The horror of the forest is the forest itself. Its the fact that you dont know it. It is the fact that it is an endless stretch of unknown that does not care for you.

Sound

Forests are incredibly "loud" in a subtle way. There are always birds, insects, the wind in the leafs, the steps of animals over wood, leafs, water. You can listen to some birdcalls online (some of them are super strange) or search on sites like freesound.org for natural recordings of forests to grasp just how much fucking Sound™ there is. Silence in a forest means bad things. Are the animals dead? Hiding? Where did all the insects go? If there isnt any buzzing, are there still worms? Bugs? What happened to the wind? If your forest is silent, thats a choice. Employ it!

Smell

Forests tend to smell "fresh". I know, that degree really serves me. But in all honesty: You are walking through a natural lung. The air is being filtered 24/7. Forests literally breathe like you and I do and they are excellent at it. If you are closer to running water this increases. After rain, the air has qualities of that grass scent you know from your garden. You also smell a lot of rot. Leafs, trees, dying plants. They tend to smell good to us. The only time that rot becomes unbearable is (afaik) two cases:

The carcass that is rotting is an animal of larger size. Small sized animals dont "smell" unless you're very close to them. And most animals that are small get taken by scavengers. You wont find them rotting, because they will be eaten before you get there. Its only once the carcass is so large that it cant be eaten at once or fast or it has some venomous qualities that you will find rot.

The other options is rot in still water. It wont smell immediately, but still water tends to take on scent after a few days. The scent of still water should be familiar to you from old puddles or algae infested waters. It will be ridden with bacteria and - and dont forget about this - larvae! Amphibians and insects love some stiller waters for that stuff.

Sight

This might be easiest: You've probably seen a forest in your lifetime. I wont bore you with "green leafs" and "blue skies". Instead, lets go over some more uncommon scenarios, often forgotten:

Moss. Moss is everywhere. Its on stones, on wood, on treebarks. There are over a hundred different species of moss. Google them. Moss in itself is a little eco system.

Treewounds (also known as tree cancer). Trees get nibbled on. They get scratched at. They have sicknesses. And then they tend to grow in these tumor looking things. Apart from that, they can have gaping open wounds from broken off branches, from birds pecking into them, from insects infesting them. Trees paint the history and the health of a forest. Take time to mention what they look like.

Pathways. Even if no human (or other protagonist species) has ever set food into your forest. There will be paths in the undergrowth. Paths often traveled by many tiny paws. They tend to lead to other such paths, to water, sometimes to good food sources and to gathering places. You need to train your eye a little but you'll find them.

Nests. For insects, for birds, for everyone involved. Clusters of larvae under bark or stone or attached to ferns, swimming in water, nestled into mud. Birdnests placed into treeholes and cliffsides. Holes in the ground that lead to mice, rabbits, you name it.

Feel

What does a forest feel like? That depends. Bark is incredibly textured. It has valleys and hilltops, it swirls under your fingers like a miniature map of cartography. No bark is the same. Birches are flat, fruit trees are coarser and the older the tree, the gnarlier it is. Look at pictures of trees and look at the bark. Stones can be all kinds of coarse and rough but they are so much softer when overgrown with moss. They are almost like pillows. The pathways are often soft soil, compressed by hundreds of feets. They might have stones in them. Waterbeds are muddy and soft, but oftentimes carry pebbles and other uncomfortable rocks in them. Mud itself is like a very soft peeling. Most dirt in waterbeds has been washed clean and soft by time. The newer a waterbed, the coarser it is. The middle of the riverbed will always be harsher than the sides. Mud deposits as sediment after all. Clay feels soft too. Sticking your feet and hands into the muddier parts of a river is always a gamble. There might be something living there. Be aware.

Oh look, a transition

Hope this helps anyone! Have a great day :)

If you have any further questions or suggestions, do ask!

[rhiannonhgarrard]

Do you ever get inspired by a single image?

I have. I'm not going to say what it reminded me of, but it has inspired an entire Inspector Gilboux entry. Here it is - it was in a Scottish pub I was in recently.

#I want to know what it makes other authors think of #any stories coming to your heads? #Obviously, my thoughts involve murder