Fire Snakes

Like any self-respecting cubbyhole, this one was dark and oppressive. I was determined though; I’d stand tough this time…

… until the fire-snakes appeared.

I screamed; ‘It’s me, mum. I broke the vase!’

Continue reading

Advertisements

Picture This…

haunted-mansion

Thunder shatters the skies. A lonely mansion stands atop a hill.  Inside, a marble telephone rings, its cry hardly audible above the ravenous storm outside.

 ‘Hello?’

Silence ensues.

‘Hello?’

Heavy breathing sets in.

Hello?’

The breathing now assimilates bellows propelling a simmering fire.

‘Seriously?  You called me at—what—precisely midnight to just breathe into the receiver? Can you be any more of a cliché?’

The voice croaks, ‘The call is coming from inside—

‘That’s. It.’ An eardrum-shattering whistle cracks like thunder through the speaker.

The line goes dead shortly after and the rest of the night passes on peacefully.

danny-bowman

Copyright: Danny Bowman

 

For Friday Fictioneers where the prompt this week is the picture on your left.

The inspiration for this story came from a mix of countless horror movies and a little snippet from real life.  I’ll not go into details unless you ask me to, but I just want to say that blowing a die-hard whistle into the speaker does indeed result into the annoying caller hanging up with a moan of pain and a bad-tempered harrumph.

At the House of Bones

Bones

Copyright -Kent Bonham

Something was wrong with this house.  He’d felt it the minute he walked in; it was alive, hungry.

Voices rumbled, crowding Nate’s head in different languages; tongues.  But it was the skeletal faces that disturbed him most, staring down at him, eyes wide.

The rumbling took on a new note.  Nate looked up.  The dragon at the top of the stairs opened its jaw.  It dashed at him, slithering.

 ‘Ssh! What the hell’s wrong with you, man? Everyone’s looking!’

‘The stairs, Matt. Can’t you see?’

‘Damn! Let’s get outa here, before anyone else realises you’re stoned off your ass.’ Continue reading