Velvet Screams’ THE BOSS [EL JEFE] #SHORT STORY

August 16, 2018 at 9:01 pm (Short stories, Short Story) (, , , )

An excellent short story written by an excellent short story writer.

PROLIFIC WRITERS ACADEMY

“Come over here right now!” Vuccinio retorted irately as he pushed forward and pulled a file from Noah’s sweaty palms. “Don’t you dare touch this!”he continued and then plodded to the comfort of his office chair. Noah gazed at the file next to vuccinio,his death wish urging him to grab it once more. Noah reached out for it.

Like a careless football,Noah’s head came rolling on the floor, and there came a knock on the door.

“Is everything alright in there?” ..“what broke?”. People asked from behind the door and vuccinio replied

“mataré a todos..sólo el diablo puede gobernar“.

————————————————-

“Hey!…don’t hold it tight…it hurts!”Stefanie shouted at the hairstylist who frowned at her through the wide mirror. Stefanie turned on the Television. The breaking news was read out on TV.
Hombre encontrado muerto en una habitación de hotel…

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The Hellish Serpent Advancing Towards Yellowstone: A Haiku

July 20, 2018 at 10:47 pm (Horror, News, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , )

The Hellish Serpent Advancing Towards Yellowstone: A Haiku

Slithering snake snows
flakes of pure sulphur venom
Grand Teton fissure

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Sherry Valerie Hilles Gothic Exorcist Chronicles

December 17, 2017 at 9:39 pm (books, Horror, Literature, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural) (, , )

Sherry Valerie Hilles Gothic Exorcist Chronicles

A very dear friend of mine and fellow blogger Sherry Valerie Hilles has just published two novels on Amazon.

Volume One of her Gothic Exorcist Chronicles The Devil’s Promises has just been published in paperback:

And Volume Two of her Gothic Exorcist Chronicles The Fallen has just been published in Kindle:

Sherry Valerie Hilles is an amazing woman. A mother of 7 children, she still manages to find the time to write novels, write poetry, draw and paint 🎨 beautiful pictures as well as being a very talented amateur photographer.

Born and raised in the Malaysian province of Sarawak on the island of Borneo, she has a multi-cultural ancestral background- Malay, Iban (the Iban were the famous head hunters of Borneo in times past), Japanese and Chinese.

In her late teens, she left her homeland to study at England’s prestigious Cambridge University.

She now lives in the forests and mountains of Bavaria in southern Germany.

I can honestly say that Sherry is one of the smartest people I know having an immense knowledge of history and literature, music and opera, art and sculpture as well as Greek, Norse and Egyptian mythology.

You can read her beautiful poetry and insights into life at her regular WordPress blog here:

https://sherriedevaleriahendrie.wordpress.com/

Sherry also has a paranormal and ghost story blog (my friend Jan who has a ghost blog herself would probably be interested in this):

https://sherriedevaleriaparaghostories.wordpress.com/about/

Sherry’s tales of the supernatural are great at building up an atmosphere of terror in your immediate surroundings and her writing is so compelling and entrancing that whatever paranormal entity she is describing (be it ghost or demon), you get the absolutely chilling feeling that the entity being described is really and truly in the room with you.

So if you really want to scare yourself out of your wits (thus giving you the qualifications necessary to be President in contemporary America), read her two Gothic Exorcist novels alone in a darkened room with all the lights off and only a single candle burning.

These books would make great gifts for family or friends to have a scary Merry Christmas.

-A recommendation
written by Christopher
Sunday December 17th
2017.

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The Pumpkin Patch Chainsaw Massacre

October 18, 2014 at 7:56 pm (Horror, Poetry) (, , , , )

The Pumpkin Patch Chainsaw Massacre

Nighttime falls
your skin crawls
because you’re in the Halloween Pumpkin Patch
with the date you fancied quite a catch
This is the 13th year of the Trembleton Farms Big Scary Event
you were so excited your dad’s car now has a dent
but you’ll worry about that after midnight
when werewolves howl and vampires bite
but for now you’ll enjoy the scary fun
as you chew on your hamburger bun
Ghosts and ghouls and witches too
jump from behind these gourds shouting boo
you jump and scream
your girl holds you like a dream
and then you notice a little trodden path
so you say to your better half
“Let’s go down here!”
She says, “Really dear?”
so you grab her hand
and say, “It’ll be grand!”.
And down and down you go
What lurks there… friend or foe?
It’s pretty dark
this walk in the park
what’s that you hear?
A noise so queer
Sounds like a chainsaw
cutting pumpkins raw
your knees start to shake
and your belly turns to fear
you look to the ground
and see a severed ear
What the Hell is going on?
Body parts strewn across the lawn
you’re still holding your girlfriend’s hand
in this field of bloodied sand
but then you discover that is all
and then your skin really starts to crawl
where’s the rest of her?
then you see the best of her.
Her lovely head sits astride a pole
her eyes have that fiery glow
you open your mouth to scream
your own head comes apart at the seam
but look on the bright side
as your head rolls on the bloodied tide
your father won’t kill you for the dent when you get home
as your tortured spirit seeks a place to roam.

– A Halloween poem
written by Christopher
Saturday October 18th
2014.

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Just Another Day and Night In The Wild West?

July 3, 2011 at 1:44 pm (Horror, Short stories, Short Story, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Sheriff Cecil Cartwell proudly looked over the graves of the Boot Hill Cemetery.

The Boot Hill Cemetery wasn’t where they planted regular folk like the townspeople might say.

Regular folk were planted in the town cemetery.

No, Boot Hill was reserved for outlaw gunslingers, ne’er do wells, the tough guy bandits of the Wild West.

And Sheriff Cecil Cartwell had shot and killed them all.

All 32 of them.

That now lay dead and buried in the cemetery.

At Boot Hill.

Given the boot by Sheriff Cecil Cartwell.

Sheriff Cartwell got on top of his Pinto horse Kiss My Grass and rode on back into town.

He stopped off at The Wild Horse Saloon and had himself a whisky.

Then he went back to the sheriff’s office and slept the rest of the day.

At 6 P.M. he went to Kate’s Dining Hall and had something to eat.

When he left Kate’s Dining Hall at 7 P.M. a stage coach rode into town.

A well-dressed black man got out of the coach.

Sheriff Cartwell wondered if he was one of the freed slaves from the Civil War that had been over some 11 years now and was coming to make his home in the American West.

But Sheriff Cartwell heard the man speaking perfect French.

He reckoned not many of the slaves in the American South could speak perfect French.

Sheriff Cartwell walked on down the street.

A defiant looking 16-year-old blonde girl in a long blue dress blocked the street in front of him.

“One of these nights, you’re going to get yours for shooting my pa dead,” the girl spat at him.

It was Daisy Durkins- the daughter of Dukehart Durkins one of the West’s most notorious outlaws- and one of the 32 who now lay dead and buried in Boot Hill Cemetery- shot and killed by yours truly- Sheriff Cecil Cartwell.

Sheriff Cartwell grabbed the bratty blonde, threw her across his knee and spanked her. Fifty good whacks across her backside with his firm powerful hands.

He left her in the dusty street and continued home.

At midnight, the deputy came pounding on his door.

“Sheriff Cartwell, Sheriff Cartwell,” the deputy screamed, “there’s some sort of trouble going on up at Boot Hill Cemetery”.

Sheriff Cartwell ran to the town livery stable, got on top of his horse Kiss My Grass and rode off in the direction of Boot Hill.

He noticed a group of people standing around.

“Disperse in the name of the law,” Sheriff Cartwell commanded.

The people turned.

They were all men.

Dead men.

Corpses.

With vacant eyes and soulless expressions, the corpses raised their arms and headed in Cartwell’s direction.

Watching the spectacle was the well-dressed black man who spoke perfect French.

Standing alongside him was the beautiful blue eyed blonde haired Daisy Durkins in her pretty turquoise blue dress still rubbing her sore and well-spanked bottom from the spanking she had received at Sheriff Cartwell’s hands earlier this evening.

The corpses pulled Sheriff Cartwell off his horse Kiss My Grass and then tore him to pieces eating what was left of him.

All that was left of Sheriff Cartwell was a single ear.

Daisy Durkins picked up the ear and buried it in a grave.

Grave #33 of Boot Hill.

The black man who spoke perfect French handed her his card and addressed her in perfect English, “Should you need me again, my lady.”

The card read, BARON SAMEDI Voodoo Practitioner, Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

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