Horror Bites Challenge #5 - Running Fast

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From the Horror Bites website:

Ok so I’m a bit late with this, the first challenge of 2017 but then, as you are probably aware, I’m not the biggest fan of consistency hehe. The last challenge was a photo my son wanted me to take, but this week he decided to take a photo himself. I love how he is just as much invested in these challenges are I am, always on the look out for a good scene to insure creepiness.

Rules:

1. As always post either the complete story or a link in the comments.
2. Going to give you a bit more scope this week so how about a word count of 450 words.
3. My son would like you to include a sport of some sort this time, so see if you can.

And so, here is my entry for this round of Horror Bites...

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Running Fast

    Elated at being alone and in the lead, Melvin settled into an even pace, his footfalls tapping out a rhythm that echoed faintly in the early morning mist. His breathing quickly adjusted. His lungs no longer burned, his heart no longer strained from the torturous effort that had pushed him not only to the front of the pack, but far beyond. A peek at his watch told him he was well ahead of schedule. All that remained left was the monotonous repetition of miles until the end of the course. A sign caught Melvin's eye as he pushed himself forward; "one way," it read.
    After what seemed like an eternity, Melvin checked his watch again. It wouldn't be long now. In the distance, he could see someone standing near a tape that crossed the road, though no spectators were in sight. Unusual, he thought; there's always a crowd at the finish line. His pace slowed. A quick glance behind showed no other competitor in sight. Now only yards away, he approached the waiting figure, noting its odd clothing. A tattered, hooded robe stood in stark contrasted to the bright garb normally worn by the race staff.
    "Is this the finish?" 
    An ethereal whisper came from within the hood. "For you—yes."
    Melvin thought the answer curious, but with his mind still consumed by the race, he reached for the tape. As he did, a sharp pain shot through his chest. His arm ached miserably. His legs became heavy, and he fell to his knees. Crimson droplets splashed across the asphalt. Above him, the figure lofted a wooden shaft from which a large, curved blade, now bathed in red, extended. Melvin's eyes began to close, and with a final, stabbing pain, his mind went dark.
    Resting the staff against a shoulder, bony hands pulled a gray stone tablet from within the robe. A skeletal digit scratched a tally upon its surface.
    "Ah," it hissed with breathy satisfaction. "Completed in record time."

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 330 words without the title... 

Previous Horror Bites: 
     A Late Dinner
    The Empty Seat
    Reading at the Library
    Unfashionably Late

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© 2017 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Horror Bites Challenge #4 - A Late Dinner

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From the Horror Bites website:

So did you like the stories from the last challenge? Thanks so much to all that took part, I’m happy that my little pictures are providing inspiration. This time round I’m using a photo that my son wanted me to take. It’s supposed to be of a moth that was on the outside of the window but my camera is fairly rubbish and you can only just make it out. (Top corner of the middle pain on the right, if you need help.)

When I looked at the picture again I discovered that there was an interesting shot of my ‘Fly’ on the window sill. This is made from recycled materials, in fact its an old light bulb. So with the picture and what little information I have given you, have at it. I look forward to reading your tales.

1. Post your link or full tale into the comments below.
2. A word count to 350 words.
3. As an added bonus if your story could contain an animal of some kind that would be awesome.
4. I’ll post a new one 23rd December, just in time for Christmas.

And so, here is my entry for this round of Horror Bites...

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A Late Dinner

    The late summer air, now cool as the last glimmer of evening faded into night, swirled through the open window. I put down my book and went to close it, my tired eyes yearning for an early night's sleep. Only a few stars and distant houses were visible. I shut the window, but there was no need to set the lock. That was one more unnecessary task in my mind, and unlocking merely another job to do when the next day's warmth returned.
    I flicked the switch for the porch light then ambled into the kitchen to clean the mug that had held a soothing cup of tea. From the corner of my eye, a movement drew my attention back to the window. A few moths traced drunken circles in the incandescent glow next to my door. A small bird landed on the sill, its head tilting as it tracked the doomed insects.
    "Looks like someone else is having a late dinner," I said while rinsing the remaining soap from the cup.
    A flash and thump startled me. The light outside was no longer shining, the front window now dark. The soft glimmer of the kitchen lamp showed only the inside of the frame and a few feathers pressed against a pane in the lower corner, stuck to it by thick droplets of fluid running down the glass.
    Thinking a bird had flown into the window, I walked toward it to assess any damage. I stopped when two fiery red dots appeared just beyond moving slightly from side to side in unison. They were eyes and, knowing their approximate distance, a rough calculation confirmed that the head in which they were set was larger than my own.
    I closed my own eyes briefly, trying not to make any other movements. When I opened them, the number of burning orbs had doubled. I had two thoughts at that moment: I had not set the lock on that window—and the uncomfortable knowledge that this would be entirely irrelevant.

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 337 words without the title... 

Previous Horror Bites: 
    The Empty Seat
    Reading at the Library
    Unfashionably Late

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© 2016 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Horror Bites Challenge #3 - The Empty Seat

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From the Horror Bites website:

So we had a couple of interesting tales from the library picture for HorrorBites #2 and I hope that this week more of you will be inspired to write a short horror tales. 

This week we are once again heading to the airport. The following picture was taken when I spotted a family leaving their trash behind. Before I tidied up after them I got to thinking what if this was an offering to the Trash Gods, or something more sinister.

1. Post your link or full tale into the comments below.
2. Giving you a count of 400-500 words this time.
3. To make this a wee bit more interesting I’d like this story to be set during the day, its easy to scare at night not so much when the sun is shining.
4. Closes around the 13th December

And so, here is my entry for this round of Horror Bites... I cheated a bit. You have to know a little poetry—or a song—to get this.

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The Empty Seat

    It was the scream that caused me to look up. A child was missing; the mother inconsolable, the husband pleading for help. I recalled seeing the boy there myself only minutes before, sitting in the waiting area next to his parents, swinging his legs back and forth from his too-tall perch, quietly sipping his juice. I remember him smiling at me—shyly—the way young children sometimes do with strangers.
    The security guards asked everyone to move away as they questioned the parents, but warned that none of us should leave the immediate area. They would want to talk with us, too. Not that it was an issue. All flights were grounded. Heavy fog had set in. Hardly an auspicious opening for the new airport already troubled during construction. There had been cost over-runs due to reoccurring vandalism and numerous physical problems with the site. It had been built over the swamps and marshes—land nobody wanted—so fog was to be expected at times. Still, this was unusual. I stared out through the observation windows while waiting my turn to be interviewed. There was little to see. Dry grass and reeds stretched out beside the runways quickly fading into swirling grayness.
    If one gazes at nothing long enough, the eyes—or the mind—begin to play tricks. I thought I saw two figures, little more than shadows if truth be told, one taller than the other, seemingly holding hands, walking over the grounds at the edge of my vision. Only seconds passed before the mists engulfed them. I grabbed a passing officer's attention and explained what I saw. He assured me it was likely other officers securing the grounds. In any event, he doubted the child could have gotten that far. It was an entirely rational, though unsatisfying, response.
    Inside the terminal, life went on around the chaos. People bought papers from the newsstand, coffee from the coffee shop, and the music played serenely from the overhead speakers. I softly accompanied Ms. McKennitt with Yeats' last line while searching the misty grounds for any movement.
    "For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand."

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 357 words without the title... 


Previous Horror Bites: 
    Reading at the Library
    Unfashionably Late

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© 2016 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Horror Bites Challenge #2 - Reading At The Library

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From the Horror Bites website:

So I hope you had fun with the last challenge and are raring to go with this next one. I realise that some of you will be taking part in NaNoWriMo this month but maybe you need a break. Or maybe this image will help inspire your opening sequence. 

At any rate here is the  next challenge,  picture kindly provided by a lovely friend who is in Aberdeen. It is a rather great picture of the Sir Duncan Rice Library, where she seems to spend most of her time as she is currently studying to be a teacher.

Slightly different rules this week just to keep you on your toes.

1. Post your horror short or a link to your website in the comments.
2. I’ll give you a bit more leeway this week – 250-350 words.
3. For this tale I’d like you to include a reference to a book or to reading.
4. Due to me taking part in Nano I’m going to keep this one open for two weeks – 10th Nov is close date.

And so, here is my entry for this round of Horror Bites...

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A Little Reading At The Library

 

    "Push me a bit closer, will you, Brad?"
    "Certainly, Mr. Pavouk. You should be very proud of this new library. Your design is striking. It's an inspiration to so many that you haven't allowed your handicap to stop you from doing great things." Pavouk smiled as the wheelchair bumped along the sidewalk. "I'm sure the people of this city will enjoy their time here, reading books and doing research. Where did you come up with the idea for the exterior?"
    "It's rather complicated, and yet quite simple in purpose, Brad. Think of the entire library as the biggest eBook of all."
    "The building is a book?
    "In its own way. It provides information. The design is made of thin metal, which is a conductor, of course. This, along with connected structures within the building, forms the circuit of an immense passive transmitter. If a radio signal of suitable frequency, even a very faint one, should strike it, the circuit responds with another signal on a slightly different frequency."
    "The building transmits a signal? That's incredible! But what purpose does that serve?"
    "It's a beacon, of course, for the others to follow. The signal can be read from quit far away."
    "A signal? To whom?"
    "To beings like me," Pavouk replied. He pulled off a glove to reveal a thin, leathery hand. The claws at the end of his fingers dug into Brad's leg whose uncontrollable spasms indicated the poison was flowing into his body. He released his grip when the twitching slowed.
    Pavouk removed the blanket from his lap. Four spindly legs stretched out from their confines. "Handicap, indeed! The only handicap I have is the irritatingly strong gravity of this silly planet. As the inhabitants often say about such things, it's a bitch." Pavouk pulled a small box from his pocket. The three lights on it flashed in sequence. "It shouldn't be long now." He looked to the sky as Brad's body fell to the sidewalk. "Not long at all."

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 331 words without the title... 


Previous Horror Bites: 
    Unfashionably Late

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© 2016 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

The First Horror Bites

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Horror Bites is now at a new location, so it's time for a fresh start. Not quite horror—unless you're one of the characters in my little tale...

From the new Horror Bites #1 website:

Welcome to the first Horror Bites Challenge for October. The challenge is for you to write a short horror story inspired by the image I’ve posted below. Feel free to use the wolf image to the left for your site if you wish, my son drew it so no worries about copy-write infringement.

This picture was taken at the airport in Gran Canaria as we were waiting for our flight home this summer. The image can be used in anyway, referencing time, a clock what ever takes your fancy – let the horror muse take control.

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Unfashionably Late

Horror Bite #1 Prompt Picture
©2016 Laura Jamez

    "If I'm not there by 10:00, it's too late. You know what you have to do."
    The envelope had contained only that note and a single, tiny pill. The clock in the station read a quarter past.
    His fingers trembled as he held the pill. Closing his eyes, he placed it in his mouth and bit down hard. His only hope was the pill would be less brutal than what the enemy had in mind.

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    There was confusion all around. A man had collapsed and died in the middle of the station. Police and paramedics huddled over him. No one noticed when a woman picked up a slip of paper from the floor.
    "This is my note." She showed it to her companion. His shoulders sagged. "Why did he do it? We were here in plenty of time."
    "It doesn't say AM or PM. He must have thought you meant morning."
    "Morning! I thought he understood! What do we do now?"
    "What do we do? Without him, it's over. It's too late for us, too."
    The man pulled a small bottle from his pocket. He emptied the contents into his hand. He held up two small pills.
    "Ladies first."

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 199 words without the title... 

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© 2016 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

The Last Horror Bites

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Horror Bites Challenge

From the Office Mango website:

So you may have noticed that I’ve been absent for a while, if you’re counting its been about a year since the last Horror Bites post. Not going to go into details about the why or wherefores at this time but this will be the last Horror Bites from Officemango.com

I will let those of you who have stuck by me (assuming I have any left lol) I will be starting a new sight and will fill you in on all the madness that has been going on in my mind.

Anyway I didn’t want to simply kill this site without a last final fling and with the lovely Leslie providing a great picture I thought why the hell not. No word limit this time, just make it scary and try not to go for the obvious slash and hack. Post your tale in the comments and have fun

Can’t wait to read them.

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Note: I will post this story here and on the Office Mango site.

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The Best Policy

    "Ah, Miss Fischer. Please come in."
    "Thank you, Mr. Nethergate. And thank you for allowing me this interview. Until recently I had no idea your institute, or the museum, existed. A chance to write an exclusive story on this contribution to our city's history is certainly welcome."
    "Our small organization, more like a social club to be honest, has existed for centuries," Mr. Nethergate said while offering a seat to his guest, "but the museum is new. We're hoping to use it as both an educational tool and to assist in raising funds. We were surprised anyone in the media had heard of it, which is one reason we extended an invitation to you. Would you like some tea?" Mr. Nethergate gestured towards a small ceramic pot on a tray.
    "Oh. No, thank you. I'm fine. I could tell you weren't expecting my call. It was only through a conversation overheard by chance that I knew how to contact you."
    "I see. Where did that take place, may I ask?"
    "It was at a meeting of the city's historical society. A few of people were discussing the fate of some of the older buildings in this area.  I happened to be near enough to catch your name and a location. They stopped talking when they saw me. As a reporter, I was intrigued."
    "I understand."
    "And I'm the only reporter you've granted an interview? I must say I'm flattered. Why only me?"
    Mr. Nethergate sat down behind his desk. "We are a rather reclusive group, Miss Fischer. We don't interact with the outside world a great deal. Our associates and staff are generally referred to our group by—well, let's say, from those who support our teachings."
    "That would explain why I hadn't heard of your group before, though not why I was invited."
    "On occasion, I do read the local papers. I remembered a few of your stories. I believe you make the effort to portray events truthfully. That is not always the case with newspaper reporters."
    "I try. When I do have to provide an opinion, it's important that it be an honest and unbiased evaluation of events. I think the readers deserve that."
    "Yes! Exactly!" Mr. Nethergate stood up, smiling. "An honest opinion. That is what we are hoping you'll provide, Miss Fischer. An honest opinion."
    Miss Fischer smiled. "I'll certainly try."
    "Would you like to see our facilities now?"
    "Of course."
    Mr. Nethergate opened the door to the office and indicated they should go to the left. A long hall stretched before them, with arched supports disappearing into a dimly lighted ceiling.
    "As you can see, our building is quite old, but it does set a wonderful mood for our museum."
    "Yes, the museum. You never stated its purpose. What sort of items do you display?"
    "If you are familiar with the local history, you know this city has a rather dark past."
    "I do have some knowledge of it, though that was centuries ago. Does it cover that period?"
    "Indeed it does," Mr. Nethergate said as they walked deeper into the maze of corridors. "It is a collection of implements used for torture during that period."
    "Torture? Isn't that a bit gruesome?"
    "Perhaps to some. But we feel it is important to document those times."
    "I suppose I can understand that. Something like the displays in the Tower of London?"
    Mr. Nethergate nodded. "Yes, I believe that would be a suitable analogy. But our museum is more than glass cases full of old things." He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door with a small window at eye level. There were no signs indicating what was inside. "Here we are."
    "So you're adding your own twist to the idea?"
    Mr. Nethergate smiled. "An interesting choice of words, Miss Fischer. We want our museum to be more than a pretty store room. We prefer a more hands-on approach for our exhibits."
    "Hands-on?"
    "Yes. As you can imagine, many of these devices were designed to crush bones, tear the skin, or rip the flesh. But we have encountered a great many whose purpose has been lost to time. We are attempting to rediscover how they were employed. Please," he added, opening the door.
    As she stepped in, her entry was encouraged by an indelicate shove. He pulled the door closed before she could regain her balance.
    "What are you doing? Let me out of here!"
    Hands reached out from darkness, grabbing her arms and shoulders. Her unblinking eyes remained fixed on Mr. Nethergate's face peering through a small opening in the door.
    "I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Fischer. As I've stated, we are a reclusive organization. We wish to remain that way. Still, we would appreciate your opinion on the use of these devices. I'm sure you understand our curiosity about their effectiveness."
    As the hands pulled her backwards, Mr. Nethergate continued to smile.
    "An honest opinion, Miss Fischer. That's all we ask. Just an honest opinion!"

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 833 words without the title... 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges in which I've participated: 

The Good Neighbor (#18)
Bad Hair Day Part II (#13) *
Lemonade (#12)
Bad Hair Day (#11) *
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

* These were the first two parts of Bad Hair Day

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© 2016 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #19 - The Tower

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Horror Bites Challenge #19

From the Office Mango website:

It is the end of the school year & I have been totally mobbed with the heavy work load. What with auditors, leaving events & P7 fun and games things have been mental in my non writing life. I’m also prepping for my youngest going to High School, which I have to say is odd – when did I get old enough to have two kids in High School? What the hell happened to my youth…….. 

Anyway the lovely Miranda, a regular contributor to this challenge sent me a great photo a while back and I’ve only remembered about it recently. So here we go, bring me tales of horror to help me prep for the summers holidays.

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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The Tower

    Even as a child, I wondered about the tower, standing forlorn at the edge of town. What could be inside? Treasure? Or something more sinister?
    I remember asking my parents, but their answers were never satisfactory. "There's nothing there that concerns you." Of course, that made it all the more intriguing, didn't it?
    Once, I saw a light in the windows. Not a bright light mind you, merely the flicker of a candle moving from pane to pane. A figment of my imagination they said. The tower had been locked for years. There couldn't possibly be anyone inside. Yet as I grew older, my curiosity about the tower never diminished.
    One evening, I climbed over the fence with a crowbar in hand. I crept up to the doors and pried away the rusting clasp that held an ancient brass lock—scant security for anything precious. A musty odor escaped as I opened the door. It was too dark inside to see, so I placed my crowbar by the door and lighted a candle. All that was visible was a spiral stairway leading upward.
    Summoning my courage, I began to climb, following the stairs until I reached a landing high in the tower. A single room enclosed the entire circumference of the tower at that height, and a door, locked with heavy deadbolts, was the only entrance. I opened them and pulled on the door. I entered slowly, and proceeded cautiously to my right. After only a few steps, I found the remains of a person, little more than bones, propped against a wall. There were marks on the poor fellow from being gnawed upon at some point. I hope it was after he had passed.
    Having seen more than I wished, I turned to leave, but too late. I recall the sounds—a haunting laugh—and the click of deadbolts being set.
    As the days pass, I grow weaker. So I sit with my back against the door, praying for escape, yet fearing I might allow whatever is on the other side to enter. 
    And the laughter never stops.

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 349 words without the title... 

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If you're in the mood for something lighter, please check out Terri Deno's latest romance novella!

Love The Callaways romance series? Check out my #KindleWorlds novella for more romantic adventures. #ebook #romance http://t.co/GfBaGvJ5Z7

— Terri Deno (@TerriDeno) June 23, 2015

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

The Good Neighbor (#18)
Bad Hair Day Part II (#13) *
Lemonade (#12)
Bad Hair Day (#11) *
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

* These were the first two parts of Bad Hair Day

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #18

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Horror Bites Challenge #18

From the Office Mango website:

So we are in May and summer is fast approaching. Not only does this mean the sun is out for longer but the gardens are needing a lot of tender care. I’m not a gardener, not even close. I don’t even like sitting in them truth be told, its dull. Our garden is a complete nightmare most of the time, but over the summer months we have to at least cut the grass. We have a garage full of gardening equipment that rarely gets used, and all manner of weed killers and other products designed (in the right hands) to help you get the best looking garden you can

So this week I’m putting these products to a better use. Bring me your gardening tales of darkness and death – I just know you guys can.

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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Good fences make good neighbors (and for good reason...)

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The Good Neighbor

    All I wanted was a little advice, mind you. He really shouldn't have taken matters into his own hands.
    I had this spot in the yard, you see, where grass simply wouldn't grow. Though not terribly large, it was noticeable, with sort of an oblong shape. The blemished area was in the back, by the fence where an elderly wisteria grows. It was a place few would see, but the ugly patch of withered fescue made it unsightly nonetheless. I do so love a lush, green lawn.
    My neighbor, Mr. Harding, has an immaculate lawn. He is always working on it—weeding, fertilizing, or cutting crisp edges along the walkway. Neither a wayward violet nor stray dandelion would dare trespass onto his verdant expanse. With whom, I thought, could it possibly be better to inquire?
    Indeed, he was eager to offer up his wisdom, which I followed to the letter. And yet the spot persisted.
    As it turns out, Mr. Harding is a bit of a perfectionist. When my actions failed to produce the desired results, he took it upon himself to solve the problem while I was away visiting friends. Serendipitously, an irritable stomach forced my early return.
    I found my dear neighbor, complete with an assortment of shovels and rakes, at the edge of the spot where a freshly excavated hole, not more than knee-deep, pierced the troubled sod. He was quite pale and shaking uncontrollably, his eyes fixated on the bottom of that shallow pit.
    All I wanted was a little advice.
    Now I have two spots.

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260 words without the title... 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

Bad Hair Day Part III (#15) *
Bad Hair Day Part II (#13) *
Lemonade (#12)
Bad Hair Day (#11) *
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

* These were the first three parts of Bad Hair Day, a continuing story I have yet to finish

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #15 - Bad Hair Day Part III

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Horror Bites Challenge #15

From the Office Mango website:

So the holidays are firmly behind us and we are charging towards the end of January 2015 already. This is much delayed and I’m sorry for that but, well I’ve been a bit busy with other projects and kept forgetting to put up a post. 

Anyway thanks to the lovely Steven Paul Watson for providing this weeks photo. Not an obvious Horror Picture but I’m sure you are all up for the challenge. Happy writing.

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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This is a continuation of the Horror Bites #11 and Horror Bites #13 challenges.

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Bad Hair Day Part III

 

    Colonel Sanchez stood at the top of the ladder and looked down. "How deep is this trench?"
    "About eight meters, Colonel. The base is on bedrock."
    "And how far will the wall extend?"
    "Another eight meters above grade once it's finished."
    "And we're over seventy meters from the spot where this thing came out of the ground?"
    "Yes, sir. About seventy-five on average. It keeps sending out tendrils, so we went out as far as necessary and started building. Once it's up, we'll back-fill the outside with rock and soil to support the wall."
    "And what about the inside?"
    "We were hoping you, or Mrs. Henderson," the soldier said turning to the biologist, "could tell us that."
    "It's difficult to say what to do until I've had a chance to analyze it," she replied. "And you can call me Margaret. I don't think we have time—or the need—to be formal. Have you been able to get samples?"
    "We have a few. We used explosives on it and some fragments were thrown free. We had to collect them quickly. It seems to grow on whatever it lands—including organic matter, ma'am, if you understand what I mean. We have two men in quarantine now, so we can get more samples if you need them." The soldier's voice softened as he said, "At least for a while."
    "Blow it up? Oh. I see. So there's no hope for—"
    "You can't think that way, Margaret," Colonel Sanchez interjected. "Not until we know for sure."
    "I'll try to remember that, Colonel. Thank you. And if we—I—can't come up with a solution to control it?"
    The soldier took a deep breath and exhaled. "There was some talk from Washington about filling the enclosure with concrete. But we don't really know if that would work."
    "That's a lot of concrete," the Colonel said shaking his head. "It would make for an impressive structure."
    "And a tomb for everything—and everyone—inside," Margaret added. "I believe I need to get to work."

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340 words without the title... 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

Bad Hair Day Part II (#13) *
Lemonade (#12)
Bad Hair Day (#11) *
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

* These were the first two parts of Bad Hair Day

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #13 - Bad Hair Day Part II

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Just a reminder: It's okay to leave comments!

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Horror Bites Challenge #13

From the Office Mango website:

I never thought it would happen but I finally have some people who just can’t live without Horror Bites Challenges. On the one hand this makes me feel fantastic but then again it does appear that I will have to be a bit more dedicated and organised.

We are at the start of winter here in Scotland which I hate. The dark mornings and nights, the miserable weather – I just want to run away to the somewhere sunny. Also it is nearing the holiday season but as we don’t start Christmas until after my sons birthday I am taking us back to sunnier times with this challenges picture. Not that I want a sunny story mind.

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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Odd. I thought dark mornings and nights with miserable weather was summer in Scotland...

(Just kidding! Actually, I'd like to vacation there someday.)

This is a continuation of the Horror Bites #11 challenge.

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Bad Hair Day Part II

    "Hi, I'm Colonel Sanchez. You must be Mrs. Henderson, the biologist."
    The woman turned from the window and nodded.
    "They've just filled me in—well, as much as they can—on the hot site."
    "Did they tell you anything about the people there?"
    "Not really. They've set up a perimeter, but what's going on inside is anyone's guess."
    "If they're not going in, does that mean they don't expect anyone to come out?"
    The Colonel took a deep breath and said, "Don't read too much into that. That's what the military does, you know—set up perimeters—even if all they're guarding is a latrine."
    She bit her lip and looked away.
    "I'm sorry, Mrs. Henderson. I wish I had more. But we'll be there soon. Your husband was—is the geologist there?"
    "Yes. I was talking to him on the phone when we lost the connection. He was describing what had erupted when a lot of noise started up in the background. I couldn't tell what was happening. He told me to hold on and dropped the phone on the desk. Then there was shouting. After a few seconds, the line went dead."
    "And that's the last time you heard from him?"
    She turned and stared out the window.
    "Yes."

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211 words without the title... 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

Lemonade (#12)
Bad Hair Day (#11)
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Horror Bites #12 - Lemonade

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Just a reminder: It's okay to leave comments!

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Horror Bites Challenge #12

From the Office Mango website:

Ok having been prompted a few times by certain folk (you know who you are people) about when then next challenge is, I finally caved, even though I’m in the midst of falling behind in NaNo.

So here is the next HorrorBites, hope you lot are happy I had to put my son in a box at B&Q. [the staff were a bit bemused and we didn't explain]

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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First of all, this is not a continuation of the Horror Bites #11 challenge. That may come later.

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Lemonade

    "Look, I have a nursery to run. I can't spend all day answering questions."
    "I understand, Ma'am, but there have been a number of missing persons in the area and we found blood in your parking area."
    "Anyone could have stopped there. It's not closed off at night."
    "Perhaps. But we have to go where the evidence leads us."
    Lucretia looked over the officer's shoulder to see an arm dangling from one of the outdoor storage benches. Her assistant, Nathan, was supposed to take care of that. Good help, apparently, was hard to find. She grabbed the policeman, pulling him away.
    "You see these hydrangeas? They must be watered every day! I don't have time for this!"
    "Alright, Ma'am. But we may be back."
    "Fine. Whatever."
    Lucretia waited until the police got in their cars and drove away, then snagged Nathan as he walked by.
    "Imbecile! The police are all over the place and you leave body parts out in plain sight!"
    "Sorry. I didn't have time to grind it—"
    "I don't care! Get rid of it and make sure the grinder is cleaned and well hidden—"
    She was interrupted by her phone, which she answered unceremoniously.
    "Yes? What do you want?" She paused, then continued in an apologetic tone. "Yes. I'm terribly sorry. You need another batch of liquid fertilizer? I doubt I have enough in stock."
    Lucretia started to check the inventory report on her clipboard when she noticed Nathan standing uselessly beside her. She covered the phone and said, "Well? Go and do as you were told!" She shook her head as she watched Nathan amble over to the bench to address his earlier indiscretion. "And they say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade."
    In a moment of enlightenment, she muttered, "Exactly!" As her eyes continued to follow Nathan, the grin on Lucretia's face widened. Returning her attention to the phone, she said, "I don't think there will be a problem. It appears another shipment has just arrived."

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334 words without the title... 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

Bad Hair Day (#11)
Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #11 - Bad Hair Day

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Horror Bites Challenge #11

From the Office Mango website:

So this is an extremely late Horror Bites Challenge. What with the Referendum and the release of In Creeps the Night I’ve been kinda busy. Maybe I should get the hang of scheduling posts in advance lol

Anyway I was going to use a picture I took the other weekend when at family but the lovely Josie Beaudion has some totally amazing pics of Yellowstone Park and I couldn’t resist them. Look out for them in the coming weeks, you’ll spot a theme so maybe we’ll encourage some of you to write a continuing story…..

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 200-350.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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BTW, as of October 16th, In Creeps the Night was:
   #6 in Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Anthologies & Literature Collections > Horror (US) 
  and
   #7 in Kindle Store > Books > Teen & Young Adult > Horror > Short Stories (UK)

Doing very nicely!

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Bad Hair Day

    "Okay, Henderson, you've called me out here all the way from Washington. What's so important about a three-point-five magnitude earthquake?"
    "It's not the magnitude that is of interest, sir, but what the quake left behind. When it hit, the soil liquefied. A lot of gas rose from the site."
    "That's not particularly unusual. Anytime that happens trapped gases can escape."
    "Most often, however, those gases are methane, carbon dioxide, or sulfur dioxide—you know—the stuff that gives a foul odor around volcanoes."
    "Sure, but you're not going to tell me this is a volcano erupting. The geology is all wrong."
    "Just the opposite, sir. The gas coming from this site is almost pure oxygen."
    "That can't be. Have you checked your instruments?"
    "More often than I'd like to admit. The oxygen level is particularly high around the structure in the center of the site. It wasn't there before the quake."
    "Do you mean that old tree trunk?"
    "It's not a tree. We took a sample, and it's nearly all protein. Under a microscope it has a structure similar to a rhinoceros horn."
    "I don't follow you, Henderson."
    "It's hair, sir. Compacted hair.
    "Hair?"
    "Yes. And it seems to be growing out of something."
    "Something? Can you be more specific?"
    "No, sir. But whether we destroy it, extract it, or bury it, I'm going to need a little help."

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What will Henderson do? Check back and maybe the story will continue!

(229 words without the title, and I do apologize for the title...) 

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

Cross Words (#10)
The Door (#9)
Wrapped in a Mystery (#8)
If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved