Horror/Scary: November 16, 2005 Issue [#712] |
Horror/Scary
This week: Edited by: W.D.Wilcox More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
What scares you beyond belief? |
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I wonder as I write, what terrible things can our minds imagine? What horrific nightmares can we create from our fears? Is the path into the dark never-ending—as infinite as the blessed path into the light? What will we imagine next as we delve deeper into the rabbit hole? What boundless horror will we invent and unleash upon an unsuspecting world.
In metaphysics, the belief is, that what we deem as reality is but illusion, and we create the world around us with our mind. But what if fear were the dominating factor of our creation. What kind of world would we live in? With what horrors would we have to contend? If we create a story so ghastly and shocking, will it come true? Does it become reality?
I wonder as I write, if perhaps by creating fear and terror, I am opening the flood gates to something that is better left alone—like Pandora’s Box, terrible and harmful to all life. How deep do our fears run? How much unimaginable horror can the mind imagine?
I wonder as I write, where my muse comes up with all this stuff. There are things I’ve thought about that are so horrendous that just the thought alone feels me with dread and foreboding.
But what if I were to write it? How would others perceive me? Will they think I am evil, or insane? Will I lose friends and loved ones because of it? My imagination scares me—if people only knew, they’d be frightened too. They’d be terrified.
Until next time,
billwilcox
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SOME GREAT PICKS
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The woods were filled with movement, and not all of it was hers. Branches were pulled and broken as large, dark masses moved among them, always moving, faster, more desperate.
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Another descended, landing in his thick, dark hair with a snap! Like someone drove a hot iron poker into his head, the lightning bug burned all the way to his skull. The smell of burning flesh, his burning flesh, filled his nostrils, and he darted from wall to wall like a mouse in a box.
| | Invalid Item This item number is not valid. #1031489 by Not Available. |
She noticed the sharp smell of copper in the air. There was blood on her hands. At first she thought she was cut, finding no wounds, she was sure of what had happened. He had followed through with the plan. His wife’s body was gone and blood painted the walls and bed. But she wondered how her own body had been covered in it.
I walk upon this world in a hopeless manner, for the malevolent spirits of truth that I have beheld and witnessed brought to my light a gruesome reality of otherworldly, demented salvation. Accursed I had once deemed the fiendish truth, I can no longer place such a name upon it despite the fact that its very essence has eaten away the holistic virtues and vices of life.
| | Invalid Item This item number is not valid. #1020665 by Not Available. |
Josh reacted quickly. He threw his hands in front of his face to avoid the attack. He too was stunned when the mask held fast as though glued to his face. He struck Donna with a blow that surprised him as he watched her fall to the pavement. A pool of blood formed where the back of her head had been crushed. Josh became alarmed. He had never meant to hurt anyone, not physically. He yanked at the mask, trying to pull it from his face to no avail.
first, simple response was: I don't believe you! But he knew--knew the way you know when you're a kid that there's a big monster hiding below your bed ready to grab you when the lights go out--that there was nothing unbelievable about this woman... woman, if that's what she was.
One night, she screws up her courage, points the gun at him and shoots him in the head twice. He drops to the floor. She worries that the neighbors may have heard. When the neighbor’s houses are dark, she digs a hole, wraps him in a blanket and buries him in the backyard.
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Her eyes flip open and she begins to shake. Sick. Sick thoughts, sick, sick, sick. She needs to see a doctor, one of those head doctors, shrinks, they’re called. Someone who can dig out the sick thoughts and make the sawdusty voice go away and leave her alone.
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The nearby plants reacted with shock, dismayed by Mary's anguished screams. They began swaying, bending, thrashing, as though a strong wind was trying to tear them from the earth. Several dreadful moments passed and the witch’s screams finally silenced. The plants quieted down. Mary was gone.
| | Possession (18+) In an asylum for the criminally insane, a young orderly discovers true possession... #1028269 by W.D.Wilcox |
Using his passkey, he unlocked the door and threw it open, then rushed to the woman’s bedside. Bending down, he shined the light under the bed. “Miss Grange?” He looked at her face. Absolute terror gripped him. Two gaping holes looked back at him, bloody and crudely gouged out where her eyes used to be. Tony fell back startled and dropped the flashlight. It exploded with the impact, batteries rolling across the floor, leaving him in total dark.
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