The Necklace
It sparkles as I turn it in my hand, the scarlet jewel coming to life in its bright silver setting. The pendant burns from within, and I find myself unable to pull away. My face falls slack as I draw it closer, studying the glittering facets of the fist-sized stone. I know I shouldn't put it on--I'd heard all of the warnings. Unthinking, I slip the heavy chain over my head, feeling the weight of it settle against my chest. The world opens up. Everything goes black.
Moonlight rippled unnaturally on the lake as the car rounded the curve to the final stretch of dirt road before we reached the township of Elishire. I appreciated the ride–I knew I would have gotten lost in these twisting country backroads. I already longed for the lights and traffic and pavement of my city.
My name is Mary Ingstaff. I am a marriage consultant. I am here to assist with the marriage of Michelle Springs to Ezekiel Banks. I repeated these sentences like a mantra in an attempt to calm my nerves and stave off homesickness. I normally loved traveling for work, but leaving my own new wife at home put a strain on this trip.
If this job works out, Renee and I will be set for a while, I reassured myself, no more out-of-town gigs, no more flights, no more weird little towns. I looked over at my partner, Jake Stevens, who was somehow dozing with his head resting against the cold window. Aside from his many other talents, he was able to sleep anywhere. I’d always envied this ability.
We’d taken this job because of the pay–the entire township was chipping in for this wedding because of…reasons. Ezekiel Banks basically owned this place, so the townspeople had no choice but to contribute. The recent disappearance of his first wife, Constance–whom he’d supposedly divorced before her extremely convenient exit–had put extra pressure on the town to make this wedding special.
Banks’ very young wife, Michelle Springs, was barely out of high school. Poor Michelle, I thought, there must be rumors. There were always rumors in these small towns...
Me whilst writing: This is a masterpiece…I am a literary genius
Me whilst editing my writing: I am an abomination to the writing community
That madeleine moment,
Dunked in tea.
Precious fragments
Of the past,
Involuntary, unbidden,
Brought on by a certain, specific smell,
Triggering chains
(autobiographical)
Temporal, traumatic.
Recurrent research reactivates
To elicit positive emotional effects.
The bibliophile in the library,
Evoking borrowed memories.
What Happened Inside the Room (continuation of "From Across the Room" and "From Inside the Room")
Her face swung to the door as she heard multiple locks click from the outside. The man from the cafe entered the room, smiling his icy smile.
“Well, hello! You’re finally awake.” He said.
“What is this? What’s going on?” She said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said, stepping closer to her, “You have no friends, no family, no lovers. No one to miss you if you disappeared.”
“I have friends,” she said, faintly.
“None that I saw. Are all of your friends online?”
She looked away, embarrassed.
“How sad. Don’t worry,” he took one last long step towards her, bridging the short distance between them, “I’ll be your friend. You don’t have to go back to that tiny, lonely apartment of yours. You can live here, with me! You can even have your own room all the way down here in the basement.”
“Why are you doing this?” She said as tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, feigned pity in his voice, “Because I can.”
Her heart rate increased as he climbed over her supine body. She waited until his position was just right. She jerked her leg, ripping the ropes from the bed, and slammed her knee directly into his crotch. With a guttural moan, he curled into a ball, helpless. She freed her other leg and both arms with a series of quick, decisive twists, then rolled both herself and the man over and off the bed. She had reversed their positions in a matter of seconds. She smiled as she pinned him to the floor. Her teeth glittered in the dim light.
“Too bad you weren’t paying very good attention while you were stalking me,” she purred. She relished the confusion in his eyes, “You didn’t choose me, sweetheart. I chose you. I know what you’ve been doing down here, and you’re never going to do it to another person.” Her teeth grew long and sharp as he watched in terror, and she plunged them into his neck. She guzzled the hot liquid that gushed from his veins. He thrashed against her inhumanly-strong grip, but his struggles became more and more weak as she drained him. Just before he became unconscious, she lifted her head and looked at him. Her dagger-like teeth dripped crimson.
“You know, I really should keep you alive for a while--torture you the way you tortured them,” she sneared at him, “But I’m not a monster.” Her scarlet lips returned to his throat. His body gave one final twitch, then lay motionless.
Zori had no idea what she was getting herself into when she stole an extra roll at dinner:
New story on Vocal:
New horror story on Vocal:
https://vocal.media/horror/dr3-m-inc0l0r
Derrick Pthalo, semi-retired henshin hero, has decided to take up magick as a hobby. Along the way he's gathered a diverse group of ladies to help him on his way. Life should be easy, but strange monsters seem to follow Derrick wherever he goes. What is the secret of Neo Teal Crisis?
An idea for a new story brought about by seeing multiple posts encouraging artists to make "really weird niche self-indulgent" stuff. I'm not sure where it would go, but I do have a prologue chapter written in my head.
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