horror-fantasy

The villagers had removed their masks. They displayed their true faces. And they were dreadful, diabolic visages. Blasted skin hung from shrunken mouths and red veins burst from their skin, leaving pronounced contours akin to miniature rivers. Each throbbed and pulsed, at home on scabby foreheads.I balked. The eyes drew all attention.Silver coins replaced eyeballs. They glinted with the same alluring lustre as the ones I had coveted in the chests. Instantly, dreadfully, I knew they were one and the same _ accursed treasure used for nefarious sight, a symbol of the damned. And yet, the more I stared, the more I coveted them.

What you seem to forget is that I'm not one of the embodiments of evil. I'm one of the embodiments of fear. That means I know what makes evil quake in the light of the sun.

Never give up! And write for yourself first and foremost.

You got what you deserved. Now be a man and confess to what most of us already know.

Pulling back, like a savage carnivore at its prey, it tore a large chunk of meat rendering his left arm useless...regardless he did not require it for long.

I looked at Vicki. My beautiful Vicki. My dream. My love. My life.

Melody began to mumble incomprehensibly under her breath as she worked frantically on securing her most important papers into bankers boxes. Her father stomped into her room, eating a banana. Melody looked up at him with a sweaty and nauseated look on her face. __hat are you tramping around so heavily about?_ she asked him. Bernie finished the last of the banana, and then held the peel in his hand as though it were a washcloth he had just found on the floor of a gym locker room. Melody pointed to her trashcan with her eyes. __ make an insane amount of noise when I approach you, because you once yelled at me claiming that I was 'sneaking up on you',_ Bernie replied, using finger quotes on the last phrase. __hat kind of treatment stays with a guy._ Melody shook her head. Her father knew how much she hated finger quotes. Why he insisted on using them was beyond her. __ was five at the time_, she said. __h,_ Bernie said, with a knowing grin on his face. __he angry period.

It was better, he thought, to fail in attempting exquisite things than to succeed in the department of the utterly contemptible.

I get a kick out of cursing people for life on Sundays.

You can__ get the blood out.

It was Halloween eve, And I was yearning alone waiting for my soul mate Ethan, He was expected by now for the celebrations in our bedroom, We planned for this, many months back, and now I was getting restless, My dick was erect and making a pole in my boxer - tough to handle 9 inches long of yearning all alone.

_Late at night, when the hour is none, I dream the dreams of the damned.

Stop wiggling - you__l move when I move you.

You keep squintin' in Savage's dark corners, you gonna wish yourself blind.

I don__ know why I told you all those things, but I did. Maybe it was because I__ a drunk, and sometimes drunks like to confess.

She was a predator - a creature of the night who rejoiced in the thrill of the hunt.

Gods do not decide who goes to Heaven or who goes to Hell. That is for the Cosmic Forces to decide. You are as close to being like a God than you ever will be. Gods are the creators and if they are proud of their work they will remain as silent watchers. This isn__ like the ancient times when Gods would interfere in the affairs of man, or whatever creatures they created. They became arrogant and selfish in their deeds, only concerned with their own private agendas and using their creations as tools of blackmail and spite. It got so they were completely shaping the destinies of worlds just to seduce a sibling into practicing explicit acts of intercourse. They were incestuous monstrosities who were given far too many liberties, and they abused the power bestowed upon them. Eventually the Cosmic Forces intervened and limited the powers of the Gods. These days Gods are not born and they do not perform sex. The few that are left are merely prisoners of the Cosmic Forces, free to roam across the Multiverse and create, but unable to indulge in their own egotistical fantasies. They have become tortured souls, much like their creations.

Her voice was small and distant, like she__ already left the room.