Since I've been suffering from severe writers block in all aspects of my life for the past view days, instead of coming up with some original little spook for you, I'm going to share a dream I had when I was about six years old. I still remember it VERY vividly, because it succedded in scaring the holy beejesus out of me to this day. - AH

So for some context, I should tell you that when I was six, my dad took me to some kind of Arthurian caves in wales, because I loved wizards and Merlin so he thought he'd take me. You had to travel through the caves in a boat, with about ten other people, becuase the vast majority was just lake and river. We only walked for about half an hour of the two hour tour. At one point, you go into this huge cavern, this huge cavern scared the crap out of me, cus all you could hear was booming noises and you had to pass under a waterfall (which stopped as you approached, timed shit) to get there. So I wasn't a happy bunny at this point. 

DREAM TIME!

I was walking through the caves with my dad along a thin runway made of stone, over the lake in the huge cavern mentioned above. I was holding this tiny brown teddy (that I actually own), and I was following my dad over the lake. We got to the other side, slowly, which was horrible, because I could hear the booming noises and they were making me nearly fall from the runway. 

On the other side was the massive set of stone stairs leading up to a stone balcony overlooking the lake. We both walked up the stairs, but about half way up these stairs he ran ahead and left me. He ran so high up the stairs that I couldn't see him, so I just slowly walked and the cavern got darker and the noise got louder and I started to run after him, I was crying and calling his name but I still couldn't see him. 

I got to the balcony, my Dad was standing kind of leaning over the stone barrier. He was teasing me and pretending to drop the bear into the lake so I ran out to him and tripped. I knocked his leg and he and my bear fell down into the water. 

I wanted to save them both, so I jumped into the lake. You know that feeling of falling? And how that apparently, If you hit the bottom, you die? Bullshit. I felt like I was falling but I splashed into the water and sunk to the bottom. My bear was stuck on the chain of a massive plug. I pulled the bear which pulled the plug out of the lake, and I went spiralling down into dark and cold and ick... Feeling of falling and feeling of being compressed... 

I woke up, and I have never been as scared of a dream as that. When I realised it was just a nightmare, I think I cried with happiness! The atmosphere itself, and the noise, and the being left in the dark... jeez, for a six year old kid, that was bloody creepy

Psychoanalyse that, I dare you!

(It may be written in first person, but I assure this, this is NOT a tale of personal experience, thank the lord...) - AH

I haven't been to many five star restaurants, in fact, this is my first one. 

I'm walking with my partner, we're actually going on a date for the first time in almost a year. Sometimes, work just gets too much and you lose yourself in it, we decided it was time to enjoy our evening for once.

Dressed to the nines, we walked in hoping our false confidence made us fit in, and not seem like the middle class citizens who had to save up to eat here that we were. A smart young waiter smiled at us, complimented our appearances and lead us to a quiet table in the corner. We had a nice view of the bar, all black marble and polished to perfection. The giant chandeliers illuminated the room with a warm and homely glow, the atmosphere itself made us smile, it seemed like such a perfect place to spend a well deserved evening of rest. 

We were brough the menus and a complimentary bottle of champagne and breadsticks. Already I was begginning to see myself here frequently. I smiled at my partner and liked the shine in his eyes that told me he was feeling the same. Within ten minutes of searching the menu for a vaguely familiar dish, we decided on the same thing. Steak, well done, with a jack daniels sauce and side of salad. 

We ordered quickly, and with a breif warning from the waiter ("We have a new meat chef in this evening, he comes with high recommendations, but, if you've eaten here before, don't be alarmed if the meat tastes different from what you remember. He's known for his experimentations.") This 'warning' didn't put us of at all, for first time customers, we were more than a little excited to taste anything they had to offer.

The champagne had made us a tad tipsy, soon after we ordered, we were giggling and laughing and talking about anything and everything. It matched the atmosphere around us, it was easy to see how people were so relaxed here. Our stomachs were rumbling, and before we even saw our meal, the smell filtered across the restaurant and my mouth watered. I looked over to our waiter, carrying enormous plates. The slab of well done steak was huge and smothered in sauce and herbs, it filled my stomach just looking at it! The waiter placed the dishes down before us and with a quick thank you, we attacked it with such vigour and hunger that I feared - for only a moment, my head didn't have room for worry when this marvellous food was in front of me - that we would damage the posh plates. 

I'd demolished half of the steak when my stomach churned. I'd eaten so fast, the taste hadn't really had time to register. Yes, the waiter was right, this chef really did like to experiment. I'd had steak before, numerous times. This didn't taste like what I was used to at all. It was nice, incredible! But it wasn't... steak. I made up my mind to finish my meal and ask for the recipe so I could try it out myself and see if I came up with a result as mouth wateringly pleasant as this was. 

My partner finished before I did, smacking their lips appreciatively, they smiled at me and waited in silence as I finished my last few bites. Even the salad was done to a crisp sweet perfection. We discussed the fantastic meals as our food settled. I told them of my plan to get the recipe and they agreed whole heartedly. As a rather good cook myself, I felt like I could tackle it well.

We summoned the waiter over for the bill, and I took this oppurtunity to leave my seat and head for the kitchen door. I thought that going in person would mean a lot more to this new chef, who probably hadn't had many compliments and requests yet. The door didn't even say 'Staff Only' so I took that as meaning 'Welcome all!'

The restaurant itself was a nice temperature, not too hot or cold, but the kitchen was stifling. How a door so easy to open and so thin kept this much heat at bay was alarming, already I felt beads of perspiration on my forehead. I asked someone at the garnish station to direct me to the meat chef, he was genourous enough to lead me there himself. The meat station was furthest away from everything else, tucked away in a corner near the large freezer at the back of the kitchen. 

The meat chef was a large man, I'd peg him around 6'4". He was wearing the traditional all white ensamble with a red apron. Nearly all of him was smeared with blood. This gave him a threatening appearance, but at the same time, it meant all the produce was fresh. I cleared my throat to gain his attention and with a smile in my direction, he placed his cleaver on the counter top and walked towards me. We spoke about the steak and the recipie, but he wouldn' tell me what he'd done. "I can show you instead, I'm about to prepare some more, for another order. If you're interested, I can let you watch? You'd be surprised how much good a particpant can do to a dish like this."

Stupidly.... I obliged... 

At the time it seemed like such a good idea... I was so willing, so desperate to acheive the culinary skills I wanted, so trusting... but then again, who, in my position, wouldn't be willing to be taught a lesson by a head chef? Who wouldn't? 

It was nothing like what I'd hoped. I'd hoped for a quick and somewhat complex recipie to watch and write down. Instead, I found myself participating in a way I'd only seen in slasher movies. 

He lead me into the freezer, to get the meat he said. I guess he wasn't really lying. Just witholding the biggest of truths. We passed the boxes of cold salads and ice creams and walked through a small door at the very back. I was freezing, I only hoped the abbatoir would be warmer. 

My second mistake of the evening. I should never have followed him through that door. It wasn't a room with dead animals hanging from meat hooks, it was very similar though...

There were meat hooks. Instead of pigs and sheep, hung people. Alive, bleeding, tortured people. I screamed and span round, but something large, heavy and silver thwacked me in the side of the head. I dropped. 

When I awoke, my shoulder blades were burning and my stomach was heaving. I vomited blood and bile, almost none of it hit the floor. I found I was suspended by hooks from the cieling, they peirced through my flesh and tore at my muscle, I opened my mouth to scream, the agony was unendurable, there was nothing like this on the planet, no pain like this anywhere in the world. No sound escaped my lips. Confused and crying, I looked to the meat chef. He was sharpening a large curved breaking knife and humming along to 'Tiptoe through the tulips' which was playing on a radio somewhere in the room. 

"I'm so glad you enjoyed your meal, It was prepared with the utmost care and preparation." He stood from a stool he was sat on and walked over to a body hanging limp and unconcious next to mine. It was naked and I hadn't looked at it before for fear of throwing up again. But now, as I took this glance, I tried to scream again. My partner, suspended in the same way I was, covered in blood and bile hung next to me. "No use screaming, I severed your vocal cords. I don't want you alerting anyone. You're bleeding internally due to it though, sorry, I'll have to make your death quite quick to make sure you don't die before I'm done with you." 

He ran his forefinger along his blade before quickly gutting my partner. Organs, blood, and rolls of hot intestine fell out. Their head jerked up and the first note of a blood curdling scream was released before the meat man slit his throat. I momentarily struggled against my silence and my chains, but the agony nearly made me black out so I stopped quickly. I was helpless as the meat man hacked out my partners heart. Steam rose from the bloody mess pooling at our feet and the smell made me gag. As the killer walked through puddles of blood, holding the warm heart of my now dead lover, I feared for my life. I feared before, but now it was real. I watched this man whom I trusted and admired murder my love, cut out their heart and step through the bloody mess he'd made. He rang a bell, and the waiter who'd served me walked through the door, looking as smart as ever. They smiled at me.

"Take this heart to the kitchen, my station. An order was made for stuffed pigs heart. Let's see if they can tell the difference." The waiter left with the heart in a tray and the door slammed shut behind him. The meat man went back to sharpening his knives. "You're next, you know. Watching me kill your lover, was that enough to make your blood pump I wonder? Shall we see?"

Safe to say, I blacked out for the rest of my torture. I remember the knife, cold, slicing into my veins at my arms, my thighs, my groin... I remember my blood spilling out along with my silent screams... I remember the way he stabbed a small hole in my abdomen, and procedded to pull out my intestines and make me watch... He said he'd make sausages with them...

The smell, sight and pain made me vomit and faint more than once. He stuffed my organs back in once he had taken enough from me and ripped me harshly of the meat hooks. Pain. I remember twitching in pain, being dragged across the red stained floor. The feet of the dead smacked into me and vomit, organs and blood stuck to my skin. He threw me out into a dumpster, covered me with boxes and left me for dead. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, the pain was too much... the pain IS too much... I can only hope someone will find me soon. I don't have long left. Minutes, if that.

A word of advice, when trying a new restaurant for the first time... Don't order the steak. 

A Drop Of Fate

I was walking home in the rain earlier with dog walkers, joggers and children passing me at their own pace, in no hurry to get under shelter. It was clear that nobody here was afraid of a little English weather. Rain droplets were lightly pattering against my face and hands, not hard, but soft and gently. It was a pleasant sensation, like a sort of facial massage. A few droplets accumulated at the tip of my nose to form a larger droplet and as I puffed a bit of air from my mouth upwards, it shot off my nose, flew through the air and landed on the ground where all the other rain droplets were heading. This then started my thought process.

What if rain droplets are a link to the people that we are going to meet in our life? Each droplet could be linked to a different person in the world somewhere that we are going to cross paths with. It could only be for a second as we pass them in the street and exchange a glance or someone that could stay in our lives for a long time and perhaps become a lifelong companion. Of course, this could only apply to the droplets that we allow to absorb into our skin and not the droplets that we shake and blow off of us or the ones that simply roll over the surface of our skin before falling to the ground. The droplets that fall straight to the ground and don’t land on people are just evaporated and have another attempt later down the line.

You can’t see anything in the droplets because they enter your body empty and once they are absorbed into you, they are there as cases for you to fill with and keep safe the memories of this person. You can’t feel them or see them but they are there; a direct link between you and another person. They could change your future and decide your fate even.

This being said, I wonder who I’ve just blown away and allowed to drop to the level of nonexistence in my life with one huff of air. I hope it wasn’t somebody that could have been important to me or somebody that I’ve always wanted to meet. Well, I guess I’ll never know.

I believe you'll find that i'm such a nice person that I gave first post privileges to accidentallyhomicidal because I felt sorry for her *Blows raspberry*.

Anyway...I shall begin. 

Jump Through Flames

Imagine for a second, purely hypothetically, what would you do if your house was burning down? What would you grab? You’d just woken up to the smell of smoke. The air was thick and you could hardly see. Nobody else was in; you’d been on your own all night. You have to grab one thing. Just one. You’ve probably been asked this question before in a group discussion with friends or as a question in school or something, but you never think about it honestly because you don’t know what you’d actually do in that situation unless you’re in it. No need to get out the matches, just use your imagination.

Some people may go for the obvious mobile phone or laptop, but does that say a lot about who you are? Maybe you’re not a materialistic person. Maybe you just can’t be bothered to go through the hassle of getting a new laptop, getting it back to all the settings you had and getting all your photos, email accounts and music back on it. Or maybe you’re just a person that never thought you’d need to have a safe back up for your stuff and the only copy of all those photos, all those memories, is on just that one laptop. At least if you did that then you could contact people to tell them what’s happened.

Others, however, may choose to go for something of sentimental value like a scruffy old bear that you’ve had since a baby or that ripped and stained book that you’ve read a thousand times, not to mention spilt a good few drinks on. Would you just take the nearest thing to you or would you cross the room, through flames even, to get to what you wanted to keep and protect from being scorched?

On the other hand, this may be completely irrelevant to you as you might be someone who would just follow the guidelines and get yourself out the door and into safety first and hope that a few things could be salvaged after the firemen got there and did their thing. Would you regret that afterwards though? Thinking you could have quickly grabbed that one thing?

So what would you take? Are you a mobile phone grabber or someone who would keep safe their keepsakes? What would your one item be? Would there even be one? Think about it. Do you even have something worth jumping through flames for?...

As I'm the better of the two admins here, I got first post priviledges. So I'm going to use this post as my introduction to myself. If you've read the homepage you'll know that I mainly write short horror stories, so without further ado, I'd like to begin with a quick short for you, to give you a taste of things to come. 

There was no dark and stormy night to prepare her for what was about to happen. There was no creaking floorboards, ominous noises, or voices on the wind to scare her into paranoia. There was nothing, nothing, to warn her about the darkness, creeping silently up the stairs. 

She slept soundly, dreaming nothing at all, no nightmares to shock her into opening her eyes; no dreams that she could be brutally awoken from. Just empty peace inside her quiet mind. She was in a deep sleep and breathy snores of content escaped her lips ryhmically.

The shadow crept into her room, the door was ajar, this made the creature slip in easier. Stupid girl. If you listened extremely closely you might just be able to hear the tiny thud as its feet padded across the open floor. In the darkness, the shadow could only be distinguished as a darker shade of black as it walked past the furniture. Noticeable, but most of us would pass it off as something we see to scare ourselves, a figment of our imagination. If only we knew how wrong we are...

It leaned down, a thin, wispy tendril brushed a strand of hair from her face almost lovingly, at the same time, another tendril of smoke like blackness pushed down into her nose and eyes, deeper, until the girl awoke, clutching her face in pain. But the smoke did not stop, now she was awake and likely to scream it sent a strand of itself deep into every orifice on her face. Two went up her nose and one long one went straight down her throat, choaking her wail of pain and terror off before it had even begun. She reached to bang on the wall next to her and hopefully wake her parents. Like handcuffs, darkness wrapped around her wrists and legs and chained her down. 

Her eyes hurridely scanned the black, hoping to see something, anything, but her eyes saw nothing. She could feel the black working it's way down her throat, into her lungs, she gagged, coughed, spluttered, but no sound other than her desperate attempts for breath peirced the veil around them. Her mind was screaming, her lungs were aching and her heart was throbbing so loud. Tears of pain and fear made her eyes sting and she begged silently for release. Her limbs began twitching and she tried rolling away or fighting back, but she was fighting air. This monster had no corporeal form, it was silent, violent, and took more than feeble punches of fear to erase. 

She felt bile and blood spew out of her mouth, her limbs were burning white hot and she knew she only had moments left. Crying and attempting to scream was no use. She knew this now. The demon would take her, it would mangle her corpse beyond recognition. She only hoped her family got out before it took them too. 

Just as her eyes were blurring into black, she saw a bright light burst through her door. Not a saviour, not help, the final blow to end her pathetic distress. Red hot flames consumed the room, consumed her, consumed her clothes and the smoke creature.

Sometimes the thing you fear just leads to worse to come. The smoke creature wanted to take her soul before the burning flames could, before they scorched the skin and bubbled her organs to paste. Smoke kills to save from the pain of the fire that follows. That doesn't mean that escaping it's grip is any easier, the grim reapers choose when your time is up, sometimes they arrive in the form of the thing you fear the most. The darkness.