(Note to Readers: Part of Deadly Infection was posted earlier as Zombie Island. I’ve added more to the story, and renamed it Deadly Infection. I hope you enjoy!)
The infectious thing hid in the shadows and watched as fresh meat disembarked the yacht. It had been weeks since the last shipment, so the creature could barely contain the blood lust raging within its decomposing body.
It growled and pulled against the chains holding him in place. Its brain could no longer reason. It only understood his ravenous need for human flesh. The drive was constant, even after it had feasted, it still hungered. It was never fully satisfied.
It lunged its body again and reached a skeletal hand toward leaves, wafting in the warm tropical breeze. Only a lone finger-bone escaped the cover of foliage.
If the “fresh meat” had looked in its direction, at that precise moment, they would have seen the bony finger with its sagging, putrid skin. Perhaps it would have been their salvation, or perhaps not… as the trees were quite some distance from the yacht.
Four teenagers laughed as they balanced the plank resting upon a weathered pier. It wasn’t as stable as Kimmie would have liked, so she held tightly to Ted’s hand. Ted, sensing her fright, gallantly turned his body to welcome his girlfriend safely into his arms. Kimmie, much smaller than Ted’s athletic frame, felt engulfed within his embrace and she liked the feeling.
Carol, quite the opposite of Kimmie, jumped from the rickety plank and practically landed on Kimmie and Ted. All three fell together to land in a heap upon the graying boards. The wood was old and so the pier quaked beneath their sudden movement.
A raucous laughter emanated from the heap, while Mark stood alone on the plank, holding all four backpacks. Mark, feeling excluded, couldn’t help but wish, Carol, to be more like Kimmie. What he would give to have her fall into his arms…
Like that would ever happen… thought Mark angrily.
Carol, boisterously called to him, “Hey pretty boy…get down here, already!”
Mark, shrugged off his anger, slowly smiled, and headed toward the laughing heap.
Offering, his hand to Carol, he winked and said, “Yes, I “am” a pretty boy…and don’t you forget it!”
Carol, ignored his hand, jumped up on her own accord and replied, “I’m not arguing the point. Practically every gooey-eyed cheerleader wants you, and from what I’ve heard through the grape-vine, even a couple of the football jocks, as well.”
Ted helped Kimmie to her feet and added to the conversation, “As quarterback of the football team, I can vouch for that!” And then laughed hysterically
Kimmie nudged Ted in the ribs and whispered, “Hey, that’s not nice!”
“Aw come on, sweetheart…we’re just messing with his head. Isn’t that right Carol?”
Carol, nonchalantly studied the apple she had just pulled from her pack, took a bite and said with her mouth full, “Nope…meant every word.”
Ted laughed so hard he snorted. Once again Kimmie nudged him but she couldn’t keep herself from smiling. A red-faced Mark, saw her smile and turned a deeper shade of red. Unable to the think of anything clever, Mark said, “Very funny…HA..HA…” He turned and walked toward the island.
The four teenagers unloaded their packs and when they had finished, beach towels, sunscreen, chips and beer littered the white sandy beach. They settled upon their perspective towels and began to chatter among themselves.
The captain of the Shelly Anne watched the teenagers find their places in the sand. With a shaky hand he reached for the shift-throttle and began backing his boat.
The deal had always been to wait at least an hour before leaving. Nervously, he glanced at his watch. It had only been thirty-five minutes but the captain decided he would wait no longer.
“What the hell, can he do…he’s already paid me for the year…” he muttered under bearded lips. The sooner he could leave the island the better he would feel, and this had always been the case since day one. He thought back to that day and remembered the creepy little doctor who had handed him the money. As he tucked the cash into his jean’s pocket, he heard a faint noise that sounded like a growl. Startled, the captain looked at the doctor who was grinning back.
“The children are hungry, ” he had said.
After that, the captain had gotten the hell outta there.
Seeing the disappearing island in his rear view mirror, the captain ran a clammy hand through wind tossed hair and mumbled nervously “Damn crazy son-of-a-bitch…”
Dr Stevens pushed wire-rim glasses up a sweaty nose. Peering through the leaves he counted a total of four. Judging from their proximity, he hypothesized the location the four would try to enter the thicket. He’d been doing this for a long time, so he was rarely wrong. The undergrowth at this particular part of the island was thick with Deer Grass and Banat Trees, making it hard to penetrate. And so he had found breaking a limb or two here, and patting down the grass there, lured the prey into his direction, quite well.
Wanting a clearer look, Dr Stevens slid the wire rimmed glasses atop his head, removed a pair of binoculars from a vest pocket, and positioned them snugly against soul-less eyes. He saw a rather athletic looking male carrying a screaming female towards the water’s edge. The bikini clad female had her arms around the males neck with her face pressed into his shoulders, causing her blonde hair to cascade down his back. The female kept screaming but the big guy laughed and kept jogging until they both splashed into surf, and disappeared under the wave making its way to the beach.
Dr. Stevens moved his binoculars slightly to the right in order to see the other two. The scene he surveyed was much somber. There was a male, not as large as the other, but a nice build, sitting on his ass, knees bent, toes in the sand. Sucking on a beer, the guy looked as if he were sulking. The other female was stretched out, her belly against a beach towel and her nose tucked into the open pages of a book. She was also wearing a bikini but her dark hair was cut boyishly short, almost GI Jane style. Dr Stevens, almost chuckled at the comparison. He whispered, “Hmm…she will be the one to watch.” He focused the binoculars for a clearer view and saw that “GI Jane” had a nose ring and a dragon-fly tattoo displayed upon her back. At the sight, an unexpected laugh escaped his gaping mouth. “It was perfect…just perfect,” he thought, “…you may be tough, GI-Jane, but not tough enough to handle what the children have in store for you.”
Carol was sick of Mark’s googly eyes upon her. Thank god, she brought the book. At that moment she realized the book was upside down and quickly righted it, hoping it went unnoticed. “Pf-ff… so what if he did…” she thought; “maybe he’d finally take the hint.”
However, Carol had long given up on that. He was clueless. Hell, she wouldn’t have come if she’d known he was coming. At first, Carol had been excited about an afternoon trip to a “deserted” island. It would be nice to get away with her BFF, but said BFF informed her at the last-minute that the “guys” would be coming as well. Unfortunately, by that time, it was too late to back out, without hurting someone’s feelings.
Carol, sneakily peered over her book to see Mark finish off a second beer and then toss the bottle toward the incoming tide. Rolling her eyes, she thought, “What a dick…I’m so over his shit!”
Ted’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“…ah…com’on Kimmie. Don’t be mad. You’re just so hot, I thought you could use a little cooling-off!”
“Well, you…mister…are on my naughty list.”
Kimmie poked out her bottom lip and pretended to pout. She wasn’t mad…truth be told she was getting ready to jump into the water anyway. She just enjoyed teasing Ted…he was so easy. She shook her head gently to get the wet hair from her eyes, and then slid pink polished finger nails through her hair, to smooth it back, and out of her face. Ted stood in front of her with puppy dog eyes and open arms. Kimmie accepted the invite. She pressed her body against his, stood on the tips of her toes and pulled his face to hers for a “make-up” kiss. However the “make-up” session was interrupted by Mark.
“Hey, man, where’s the boat? Where’s the damn boat?”
Reluctantly, Ted pulled his lips from Kimmie’s and looked in the direction of the pier. Sure enough, the rickety dock stood alone. The boat was gone. Looking at where the boat had been, Ted felt a small tinge of panic. Trying to assure himself he said the next thought that came to mind.
“Um…I don’t know…maybe he had to get gas…or something…?”
“Gas! Where’s he gonna get gas! It took us three hours to get here and I didn’t see any freaking gas-stations on the way… did you?“
Carol laid down her book, put up a hand to shield her eyes, and looked at the empty pier.
Kimmie looked as well, and quietly mouthed the same question, “Where’s the boat?”
All four teenagers stared at the empty dock and vast ocean. The only sound, to be heard, was the incoming and outgoing waves that bathed the island’s white sand. Each one, too confused to speak, tried to rationalize the cause for the missing boat.
They stood like that for a couple of minutes until Kimmie’s quivering voice broke the silence.
“Ummm…wha…what are we going to d….do…?”
Ted, turned on his heel, ran to where the backpacks lay, and came back, cell phone in hand, hoping for a signal. Mark tried the same thing, and when he could find none, he cursed and tossed the useless phone on the nearest beach towel.
Carol slipped closer to Kimmie and took her hand in hers, not knowing if she did it to comfort Kimmie or to comfort herself.
The sun began its slow decent in the darkening sky. Low lying clouds oozed red and dripped like blood upon the horizon. If circumstances had been different perhaps it would have seemed romantic, however, for the frightened-four it felt more like an omen of evil to come.
Ted broke the cryptic silence, “Maybe we should try to find some sort of shelter before it gets dark” Pointing toward the Banan trees he added, “Under those trees looks promising.” Without waiting for a reply he headed toward the trees. Being the quarter back of the football team, made it easy for Ted to take control. He was use to everyone following his lead.
Mark hollered at Ted’s back, “What if the boat comes back and we’re not here?”
Carol had wondered the same, but also thought it a good idea to find protection for the night. After-all, who knew what kind of animals roamed the island, furthermore, the lower the sun dropped the colder it became. She looked toward Kimmie, sitting on a beach towel, arms crossed and shivering. Carol wondered if the shivering stemmed from cold or fright. Feeling sorry for her friend, she went over to sit beside her. Carol reached for the towel, lying beside them, and draped it over their shoulders. She laid her head against Kimmie’s and whispered, “Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.”
They sat huddled together while Ted and Mark argued.
Dr Stevens looked at the children, only inches from their reach. All three lunged from their chains, and viciously reached rotting fingers toward the doctor.
“Come now, that’s no way to treat your Papa,” he cooed.
He stood gazing at their bulging eyes and gaping mouths. For a moment he pretended to be one of girls seeing the creatures for the first time, and quivered with delight. He had always wanted a daughter…or two…perhaps. At the thought the doctor giggled, pursed his lips and said in a childish voice,
“What a happy whittle family we’ll be.”
As he praised his soon-to-be family, he stepped a little too close to the creatures and one of them scratched his face with its jagged finger nail. Startled, the doctor stepped back and hissed,
“You wretched, nasty child!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he angrily pressed a button on the small receiver he held in his hand. Immediately, all three creatures fell to the ground in agony.
“I thought we had gotten beyond that…” the doctor said through gritted teeth, and pressed the button over and over.
Dr Stevens touched scratch below his eye, and looked at the his blood dripping through his fingers. He stepped forward to stand above the piteous creatures. All three lay at his feet writhing in pain. Looking at them with soul less eyes he lifted his foot and brought the heel of his boot down upon the head of one of his creations. The brittle bone and rotted fleshed gave way with sickening slurp. The doctor’s boot went clean through the putrefied head to rest upon the bloodied earth. He pressed the button once again and the remaining two screamed. Their cries crescendo-ed through the palms overhead.
[RECAP: Amy is kidnapped, and chained in an underground, root cellar, by a vicious, serial killer. After hours of hanging in the dark cellar, her captor takes her to an abandoned cabin, hidden deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains. Rudy, her beloved Golden Retriever, lies in the snow, dying from a gunshot wound, received while trying to save Amy. Sky, the love of Amy’s life, walks the desolate forest, following snow-mobile tracks, she believes lead to Amy. Now Amy sits on a couch, her naked body, covered with only a blanket. Her captor hoovers over her, taunting her and beckoning her to look into the fire place, where he has thrown her clothes, to burn.]
(To read Amy’s story from the beginning visit here)
He leaned in even closer, and Amy feared he would kiss her, but instead he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “Enjoy their warmth…they will never touch your body again.”
Amy looked into the blaze, burning within the fireplace, in front of her. There was no trace of the jeans or tee-shirt she’d worn earlier. Obviously, they had burned to ash a long time ago. As she gazed into the fire, she wondered what he would destroy next.
Before standing, he kissed her on top of the head, and said bluntly, “Dress for dinner, and I’ll not ask twice. I worked my ass off to cook the perfect homecoming meal, and you will sit down, and you will eat it.”
Amy began to protest, but stopped when she saw the determination in his eyes. Silently she chided herself, “…pick your battles Amy…control your damn temper…”
Standing up, from the couch, the blanket, that covered her nakedness, fell to the floor. Without taking her eyes from his, she slid the cotton dress over her head. It slipped weightlessly over her body, the hem fell two inches below her knees.
“Can’t forget these,” he said, as he pulled something from the front pocket of his jeans.
In his hand, lay pair of white panties. Without a word, she took them from his hand and attempted to put them on. As she stepped into them, the fabric pulled across her bandaged ankles, smearing the blood that had seeped through. Amy groaned against the pain, but never-the-less she persisted, to complete the task.
“Careful with those ankles,” he smiled and added, “God, I bet they hurt like a bitch…anything that ugly has got to hurt.” With something akin to pity, he tilted his head, and murmured cloyingly sweet, “Awwww…if you’re a good girl, I’ll be a good boy and redress them later, and, perhaps, I’ll even give you something for the pain.” He clucked his tongue three times and said, “…poor…. poor baby.”
Amy wanted to spit into his smirking face, but she didn’t. Instead she glared into his eyes, revealing her hatred for him.
Pity fell from his face, and instantly, it donned a mask of rage. He grabbed her upper arms and squeezed painfully. “YOU. ARE. MINE.” Then he shook her with such force that Amy felt her teeth chatter. Inches from her face, with his nose almost touching hers, he yelled, “Accept the truth, and the truth will set you FREE!”
He pushed her backwards, but grabbed her before she fell to the floor, then he roughly shoved her into one of the straight back chairs, by the small wooden table, that he had set for two. Amy would have fallen out of the chair, but he held her tightly, preventing another fall. He walked behind her and pushed her chair under the table. With a bit more control, he put his lips to her ear and said, “If he takes him another wife; her food, her raiment, and her duty of marriage, shall he not diminish…Exodus 21:10. God is on my side…you can’t fight this. I will decide what you wear, what you eat, and how you will perform your wifely duties.”
Leaving her there, he turned and walked to the kitchen counter to pour two glasses of red wine. He sat one in front of Amy, and then put his glass, at his place setting across from her. He picked up the empty plates, and once again turned to walk toward the counter.
She watched as he filled both plates with food, from the pans on the stove, and then he promptly turned the knobs to the left, to shut off the heat that had been keeping their dinner warm.
Playing the gentleman, he sat Amy’s plate down first, and followed by setting his own down, across from her. Without a word, he slid into his chair, took his neatly folded napkin, and placed on his lap. Then he looked at her and said with a God-like voice, “Shall we say, grace?”
Amy watched as his face contorted into a horrible grimace, which opened the chasm of his mouth, releasing a series of hysterical cackles. The shrill laughter lasted, what seemed forever, and then, without warning, abruptly stopped. The dead quiet, that followed, unnerved Amy. She looked into the soulless eyes that stared at her, and a chill ran through her body. She realized that in that particular moment, no one was home behind those eyes. Then without warning, his stare refocused, and he broke the silence by saying, “Eat up love. You’ll need your strength for later.” And, just like that, within a second he went from soulless to caring. The sudden change, actually caused Amy to feel dizzy, so she grasped the side of the table to settle her vertigo.
He picked up a knife and fork, cut into the steak in from him, and put it in his mouth. He chewed the meat slowly and swallowed, then cut into the steak again, and followed suit, but, this time, he washed it down with a large gulp of wine.
Amy felt bile rise within her throat, and she seriously thought she would throw up. He, oblivious to her plight, encouraged her sweetly, “Come…come my love, eat your dinner…we have lots yet to do tonight.”
Amy looked down at her plate, and noticed she had no silverware.
He tapped a napkin to both corners of his mouth, and continued sweetly, “Poor Amy has no silverware…what’s a girl to do…hmmmmm? I’m not so sure I can trust you with a knife and fork. God forbid you’d stick me, rather than, the food in your plate. Perhaps soon, you will gain my trust. I’m sure, some day, we will both look back, and laugh at this, our present conundrum. It may be demeaning, but, for the time being, you’ll have to eat with your hands.” He pointed to her steak. “Now pick it up and eat.”
Fighting an urge to gag, Amy whispered, “I’m not hungry.”
“What did you say?”
Again, she whispered, “I’m not hungry.”
“Forgive me…but it sounded like you said, you weren’t hungry…”
Amy looked at him, and, this time, repeated it loud and very clear… “I said…I’M. NOT. HUNGRY.”
He leaned forward, and grabbed both sides of the table. “Do you know what happens to little girls who don’t clean their plates?” He left no pause for her answer. “They get punished…” he continued, “…is that what you want…huh…? Is it? Is it, Amy?”
Amy’s anger grew hot at his prodding. She slammed both hands on the table, causing the dishes to rattle and yelled, “Punished? What the hell do you call being strung up and held captive for hours, in a shitty-smelling, dark hole! Slight of death, I’m not so sure it’s possible to top that!”
Through gritted teeth he answered, “Believe me…it can ALWAYS get worse…don’t try me, Amy…”
Amy leaned forward, and vehemently said, “I don’t want your fucking food!” Then she leaned even closer, “I want to know what you’ve done with my dog!”
At the mention of Rudy, a sinister smile tugged the corners of his mouth.
“Ruuuuuudy…” he taunted, as if calling for him.
“…where are you Ruuuuuuudy? Mommy’s worried about you Ruuuuuuuudy…”
Without warning, he flipped the table over. Amy cringed from the sound of shattering dishes, and the table tumbling across the floor. He grabbed her by the hair, and painfully penned her against his body.
He snarled, “Do you really want to know what happened to your damn dog? I don’t think you do, but here goes…” “I shot poor Ruuuuuuuudy, and then the mangy mutt fell dead at my feet, where I gave him a kick, for good measure. Then I tasered you…you bitch!” He paused only a second, “…and do you want to know what you did? You pissed your pants like an animal, so I strung you up like an animal. You disgust me!” Then he pushed her backwards, and she fell to the floor
Tears of pain, both physical and emotional, ran down Amy’s face. Her heart broke into a hundred pieces at the thought of Rudy being dead. In desperation she screamed, “You’re lying, you son-of-a-bitch, you’re lying! My dog is NOT dead.”
He grabbed her by one of her bloody ankles and began pulling her across the floor, and down a narrow hall.
“Everyone you know is going to die. First, Rudy, and soon, Sky!”
He stopped, by a small door, only 4 foot tall. Its rusty hinges screeched in protest, but with great strength, he pushed the door open, to reveal the contents inside. The room was empty, save for a sleeping bag and a five-gallon bucket. He stooped as he entered, as not to hit his head, but once inside, was able to stand upright, since the room’s ceiling spanned the height of at least 10 feet. He tossed Amy on the sleeping bag, then turned, and ducked once again, to clear the entrance way. From the hallway he said, “I will be gone for long intervals at a time, use the bucket to relieve yourself.” Amy heard the door close, the lock slide into place, and then his footsteps descending down the hall.
Alone in the dark, Amy curled into a fetal position, and cried for Rudy and Sky.
Sky’s heart sank. The sight before her caused her to stop dead in her tracks. A lump, of what looked like golden fur, lay beneath the boughs of the fir tree ahead. Sky knew it was Rudy. She willed herself to move forward, once she saw it was Rudy, she fell into the snow, beside her dying dog
She leaned over him gently, and put her arms around his quivering frame. The bloody snow beneath him, soaked into the sleeves of her hoodie, but Sky didn’t give a damn. She held her dog, and sobbed.
She heard him whimper, so, she pulled far enough away, to look into his eyes. His brown eyes were almost glazed over, but then they focused on Sky’s face. When he recognized her, his whimpers turned into pitiful cries. Sky’s heart broke into a million pieces. She held him close and whispered in his ear, “It’s okay, Rudy…it’s going to be okay.”
Sky did her best to sooth him, but still he cried. She pulled away, once again, so Rudy could see her face. His brown eyes connected with her blue eyes, and in that moment, she knew he was trying to tell her about Amy.
“It’s Amy…isn’t it…? Are you trying to tell me about Amy?”
At the sound of Amy’s name, his cries grew louder.
Tears streamed down Sky’s face, and she gently pulled him to her, she whispered, “I’m worried about Amy too.” Sky felt his body relax, as if he knew she understood.
Sky buried her face into Rudy’s neck, “I’m going to get our Amy…and…I’m going to…to…bring her home…” She silently cried into his fur, and cried all the more, as she felt his breathing slow, and then his body go limp in her arms.
After a long moment of silence, Sky laid Rudy’s body back upon the snow. Her heart ached, knowing how cold he must be. She rubbed and kissed his head, “I love you, Rudy…I love you…go to sleep now…it’s going to be…okay.”
Sky stood and looked down at her dog. His eyes were closed and he was still breathing, but barely. She reached around and pulled the revolver from the back of her jeans. She couldn’t bare to see him suffer any more.
Hello my Creepy Friends! I sat up late last night working on this piece. The original photograph I used for inspiration and template, (see below) was a selfie taken of me goofing around after a substantial snowfall in New Hampshire.
My steps to creating this piece first began by making the photo black and white. Then I opened it with the basic Paint program on my computer. I started playing around with the color black by painting my hoodie to resemble a cloak. Then I took the same black and darkened my eyes. At this point it was pretty creepy. Next I accentuated the wrinkles and lines in my face and did some shading around the eyes to create a gaunt appearance. I decided to reshape the bone structure of my face with the hope of making it appear “skullish.” I did this by creating prominent cheek bones and narrowing the top of my head. As I looked at my transitioning face, it reminded me of the Scream movies, so with that thought in mind I elongated my mouth and painted my tongue black.
I wanted to get rid of the background, so I opened the morphing face with an app called Phototastic Collage. Using the “effects” and “light leaks” tools I came up with the screaming face above. The face of course was still positioned in the middle. At that point it looked good but something wasn’t quite right. It was too centered and too symmetrical and not disturbing enough. To rectify this, I dropped the face lower, wanting it to look as if it were peering at you from over the bottom of the frame. I liked the outcome. Lastly I named it and laid claim to it by signing my name at the bottom.
Meet Jonesie! Jonesie was our sweet rescue cat. The beautiful tabby frequented the medical office where my wife use to work. He would come around every day looking for a yummy bite to eat. After finding out he had no place to call his home, Corinne and I took the little rascal home to live with us. We decided to name him Dr Jones because we love Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones and we found him at a “medical office” …so “Dr” Jones seemed quite fitting. Eventually Dr Jones became Jonesie for short. In the photo above Jonesie was having a good roll after sunning under an autumn sun. He was such a sweet fellow. Unfortunately Jonesie has crossed the rainbow bring but we will never forget this handsome boy!
So this is the transformation of Dr Jones into “Vampire Kitty.” I thought the original photo was quite interesting since his canine teeth were so prominent. So using the photo as a template I created my Macabre Art piece number two. I like to call it Vampire Kitty. Dr Jones lives on!
There are quite a few Bible verses that seem to describe UFO’s. Since today’s one word prompt is Sky…I thought it would be kind of fun to look in the scriptures to view the Biblical skies of long ago.
Most of us are familiar with the television show Ancient Aliens. Are they correct? Has the Bible been warning us all along of alien life? When the British X-files are released what secrets will they tell? Nasa’s chief scientist Ellen Stofan just recently said, “I believe we are going to have strong indications of life beyond Earth in the next decade and definitive evidence in the next 10 to 20 years…” Is this their way of preparing the public…their way of breaking it to us gently? Maybe we’ll know soon…evidence seems to point in that direction. Hang in there my creepy friends! Things could be getting exciting very soon!
Possible UFO’s in the Biblical Skies? Read the scriptures below and make your own decision.
In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month, as I was among the exiles by the Chebar canal, the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God. On the fifth day of the month (it was the fifth year of the exile of King Jehoiachin), the word of the Lord came to Ezekiel the priest, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the Chebar canal, and the hand of the Lord was upon him there. As I looked, behold, a stormy wind came out of the north, and a great cloud, with brightness around it, and fire flashing forth continually, and in the midst of the fire, as it were gleaming metal. And from the midst of it came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance: they had a human likeness, …
The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown.
And I looked, and behold, there were four wheels beside the cherubim, one beside each cherub, and the appearance of the wheels was like sparkling beryl. And as for their appearance, the four had the same likeness, as if a wheel were within a wheel. When they went, they went in any of their four directions without turning as they went, but in whatever direction the front wheel faced, the others followed without turning as they went.
“Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the heavens trembled and quaked, because he was angry. Smoke went up from his nostrils, and devouring fire from his mouth; glowing coals flamed forth from him. He bowed the heavens and came down; thick darkness was under his feet. He rode on a cherub and flew; he was seen on the wings of the wind. He made darkness around him his canopy, thick clouds, a gathering of water. …
And the cherubim mounted up. These were the living creatures that I saw by the Chebar canal. And when the cherubim went, the wheels went beside them. And when the cherubim lifted up their wings to mount up from the earth, the wheels did not turn from beside them. When they stood still, these stood still, and when they mounted up, these mounted up with them, for the spirit of the living creatures was in them. Then the glory of the Lord went out from the threshold of the house, and stood over the cherubim.
As for the appearance of the wheels and their construction: their appearance was like the gleaming of beryl. And the four had the same likeness, their appearance and construction being as it were a wheel within a wheel.
“As I looked, thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days took his seat; his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames; its wheels were burning fire.
Nye stared at the apartment where “it” had happened. He was thankful for the body of water between; but the barrier did little to quell his fear. Slowly he let his mind replay the events of that night.
The moment he emptied the last box, the clock struck midnight, and then a knock at the door.
“Strange…” he mused. Curious, he opened the door…nothing.
“Even stranger…” he said aloud.
Two minutes passed…another knock. Again, nothing.
This repeated twice more. Nye, finally threw the door open and yelled,
“Stop knocking or come the hell in!”
It came inside.
Immediately, he felt the evil entity. Nye ran for the door, but the door closed and the lock turned. A window opened and he felt himself being pulled towards it. Horrified he watched as five bloody claw marks ripped each arm. Each time he resisted the jagged gashes grew deeper.
Screaming, he passed out.
Hours later, paramedics lifted Nye into the ambulance. Nye overheard one say “Poor bastard, probably threw the razor-blade out the window.
Circus Circus was built-in 1968. Unfortunately the owner, Jay Sarno, failed to build an accommodating hotel and so there was very little incentive to lure in high rollers. As a result the casino quickly fell into financial trouble. Sarno, tried to rectify his mistake by borrowing an extra 23 million dollars, however, the loan came with ties to the Chicago mob. This mob-related endeavor built the hotel but it also put Sarno within the cross-hairs of the authorities. Sarno, wracked with fear, finally sold his casino/hotel in 1974. Since then Circus Circus has undergone many expansions and today it as recognized as one of the most iconic casinos in Las Vegas.
Be that as it may, if you find yourself in Vegas and are so inclined to stay at Circus Circus you would be wise to stay far away from certain rooms. Loud cries for help and screams of bloody murder are often heard coming from rooms 123, 230, 576, and 203. Many through the years have fallen from their room window to their deaths below. The lady in room 123, shot out the brains of her son before turning the gun upon herself. Of course she and her son are said to haunt the room and walk the hallways.
So tourist, beware…
Stay Creepy My Friends!
Haunted Circus is in participation with today’s prompt circus.
(From http://paranormalistics.blogspot.com/: Las Vegas – Circus Circus – loud cries for help are herd in the poker rooms and also rooms 123 230 576 and 203 in the bathroom at night you here the words help me and screaming bloody murder that they want help also a 76 year old man that worked there for 20 years claims that 3 people were killed in the kitchen on the same night and the lady in room 123 shoot her and her little boys brains out and ever since then the little boy and his mom haunts the place looking for there husband/dad and anyone with same name as Robert and has black hair gets murdered and hung from the ceiling)
Max’s stare was blank but his body was filled with longing. Her song was the epitome of desire. In all of his 50 years, Max had never heard anything to compare.
The first time it had happened, Max had been suffering from insomnia. Sleep, always his distant friend, remained aloof long into the witching hours, and so, out of utter boredom, he had done the unthinkable…. he had walked barefoot to an empty dock, boarded his Irish Lady and taken her out into the calm sea waters. Max knew sailing alone, especially in the dead of night, wasn’t the smartest thing to do; however a stifling loneliness prodded him to curse all warnings and tuck them away into the deepest recess of his mind.
At first, all was quiet, save for the wind’s gentle tug on the mainsail and the small waves kissing the sides of the Irish Lady. With the waters so calm, Max relaxed by the rudder and enjoyed his cigar without interruption. Nearing the end of the smoke another sound began to mingle among the wind and waves. The mé·nage à trois slowly married and became a sweet seductress caressing and whispering within his ear.
At first, Max wondered if another boat was near, but a quick 360 proved that he and his Irish Lady were the only ones upon the water. As the song grew louder, he relaxed and was eventually enveloped within the soprano’s beautiful serenade. The woman’s voice was soft and gentle and even though Max knew it to be strange he felt no fear, only a peaceful sense of longing.
“Strange…” he whispered, “so…so strange.”
The Siren’s song warmed him and put him in a blank trance until it slowly left as it had come, leaving only the sounds of the wind and waves. Max had stayed out another hour hoping to hear her voice again but it never came. Disappointed he turned his Irish Lady and went home. The moonlight sail proved cathartic, for he had slept like a baby once he was home and under the covers of his bed.
Max went out every night for the rest of the week and sure enough he was rewarded with his sweet siren’s song. Never, not even once, had he any inkling to jump overboard into the arms of some beautiful bare breasted mermaid. Just the opposite, he laughed, her voice had made him feel warm and completely safe.
Fearing he was losing his mind, Max had promised that each night would be the last, only to break the promise the following night. And so, here he was, once again, sailing under the milky way awaiting the siren’s song. With each night his desire to hear her grew until tonight it was a consuming fire begging to be quenched. Minutes faded into hours with no sign of his siren. Max, unwilling to give up, continued to sail the dark waters like a mad animal ravenous for his prey. Finally it became obvious that his siren was not coming. Utter loneliness squeezed his heart so hard it physically hurt, but he had no other choice but to turn the Irish Lady and head back home.
Max went straight to bed but once again sleep was a stranger. He lay awake in his bed watching the breeze flutter the curtains of the open bedroom window. He was filled with the fear that he’d never hear his siren again.
“Why hadn’t she come?” he whispered into the nothingness.
Faintly…ever so faintly a voice…her voice… like a whisper drifted through the open window. His heart quickened, and quickened all the more, when he realized her song was gradually getting louder. Finally she sang to him right outside his window and just as it had been upon the water her voice soothed him.
Entranced he lay there listening until her song came to an end.. At first he was afraid she had gone but then he heard her breathing and he knew she was still there. He thought it impossible but her breath outside his window was sweeter than her song. Gradually her whispers of breath became heavier and huskier until his siren sounded like a woman consumed with orgasmic pleasure. Max filled with need and he wanted her to come inside and slip beneath the covers with him. Somehow he knew she couldn’t come inside until he offered an invitation.
He was about to beckon, only to be interrupted by her moaning…
“…Max…I came for you, I came for you upon the waters, but I couldn’t find you. My heart hurt… my soul cried, and my body ached for you… and so, I have come to you, Max…please…please bid me come in…”
Max, throbbing with the pain of desire, could wait no longer, said, “Come to me.”
The screen that separated her from his room began to tear slowly from top to bottom. Max looked for her presence, but could see no one, only the slow rending of the screen. Once it reached its decent a head flowing with long black hair slowly emerged. Max strained to see her face, however, it was downcast so that her hair fell forward and long. The figure climbed through the window and then stood naked within the moon’s glow. Her long hair fell strategically to cover her breasts and cascaded over her body to hide everything but the perfect rounding of her hips and the length of her legs. Standing like this she didn’t move and Max wondered if he should go to her; however, as if she heard his thought, she began to slowly move toward him. Once at the foot of the bed she stopped to stand silently, her hair, still covering her face, had parted just enough to expose the nipple and swell of her left breast. Feeling as if he could wait no longer, Max begged her to come to him. Once the plea left his mouth she disappeared. He presumed she had vanished until he felt the rustle of the sheets around his feet, and he knew she was about crawl underneath the covers. Slowly he felt her womanly body inch its way over his until she lay full upon him. Her body was warm and soft and she eased her softness over his hardness until he was totally consumed within her flesh. She began to slowly move upon him.and he thought he would die. Consumed in desire he arched upward and ran his hands over her buttocks, up the small of her back, and ever upward until they held each side of her head. . His fingers entangled within her hair and slowly he was able to push it up and over her face, and in that instant his siren let out a blood curdling scream. Max opened his tightly closed eyes and saw a hideous hag writhing in pleasure above him. Her mouth, unhinged hung long and low, and rocked side to side like a metronome. Horrified he watched as her jaw stretched even longer so that he looked down the black bottomless pit of her throat. Feeling the pull this dark abyss, Max looked to his siren’s eyes to beg for mercy, but her bulbous eyes were even blacker than the pit and he knew they contained no mercy. Unimaginable pain wracked his body as he felt himself shrivel to a liquid that poured down her throat. The hag hungrily drank every portion of him until all that was left was damp spot upon sheets.
Slowly the hag’s sagging mouth closed and turned into lips the color of rose buds; and her black eyes grayed and morphed until they were the color of the Mediterranean Sea. A beautiful naked women left Max’s bed, drifted through the torn screen and disappeared into the sea mist that lay beyond.