Tag: Suspense

Screwdriver

“Tell me, Mr. Hudson. What goes on in that thick skull of yours? You seem to the be type of person who lets their mind wander about all day and night. Or, perhaps you just do that to help you forget the worries and stressful nature of your daily life.”

Ezekial kept up his casual, back and forth pacing in the darkened room. Even with just a single, low-hanging light bulb in the center of the room, he could catch the glimmering of the various tools scattered along the ground. He picked up a small hammer, eyeing the light layer of rust on the top of the claw – the part that helps take out nails, “This could be useful. I should go through all my options first.”

Without looking behind him, Ezekial lobbed the rusty hammer over his shoulder. Before hearing the sound of crashing metal, the screaming of a man came from behind him. Ezekial’s skin hardened full of goosebumps as the man continued screaming for a bit longer; sobs and pleading started replacing the scream.

“Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?”

Ezekial came to a sudden halt, “‘What have I ever done to you?’ You really don’t know why I brought you here? Are you that fucking dense?”

With his face buried in his hands, Ezekial took a moment to to breath, about to let out a scream of his own, but the only thing that came out was a loud, exhausted sigh. Part of him couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of this man’s mouth. It just made him more angry, wanting to put all of this behind him. However, Ezekial didn’t want to just finish his current job; he wanted to relish and enjoy the sight a bit longer before bringing it all to an end. He looked down in front of him and saw a broken screwdriver, the head of it gone, leaving a razor-edge point in place.

Ezekial juggled the screwdriver in his hand as he turned to face the man. Placed under the light bulb in the center of the room sat a wounded man, chained and bound by his wrists, ankles and chest. Gashes and bruises mark the marked the man’s entire body, blood tricked down and formed a small pool around his feet. Chunks of his grey hair are gone, like somebody has been dragging him by the scalp.

The man could barely keep his head up to look at Ezekial. His strength reserves were near its end, and he wanted to try and use whatever he had left to try and survive the torture he was expecting to happen.

Seeing the injured man put a strange gurgling sensation in the center of Ezekial’s stomach. It was a very familiar sensation he’s come to recognize after years and years of giving into his hobby. He’s managed to see a bunch of the people who he’s had conflict with in the past and managed to find closure. Today was no different.

He crept up to Nathan, the man bound to the chair. With his free hand, Ezekial grabbed him by a clump of his hair and forced him to look up. Seeing Nathan’s bulky neck, the broken screwdriver pressed against his windpipe, just moments away from piercing straight through it with enough force.

“Nathan Hudson. Born in September of 1972. Graduated top of his class in high school and got a full scholarship to Uni of Nevada. You had it all.”

“How do you know all of this about me…?”

Ezekial’s face was covered in a frown full of hate, “I have my sources. But don’t fret. You won’t be missed.”


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

— via Daily Prompt: Fret

Wine-Made-Molotov

Nobody likes a person who’s always thinking that the world revolves around them, that everything they do is the real-life version of perfection. They’ll always try to convince others that they’re the one who’s wrong and will fight just to prove a false point.

However, there are certain people who have no good proof that they’re even usable or reliable. Their constant mistakes only drag on and make certain things more difficult than it should be. And the person would even continue and try to say that they can do wrong.

When faced with the wrong person, the perfectionist will be faced with the result of their self-centered ego.

Something like that doesn’t take priority at the moment. Somebody else can take care of it.

The sounds of papers shuffling echos at the end of the aisle as he carefully turns around to avoid hitting the wine bottles organized on the wall rack. The bright ceiling light illuminates the thick, bushy facial hair hanging from the bottom of his chin.

Every time I see this mother fucker, I just wanna punch him straight in the face.

Monster Madness – Youngster by the Dumpster

Happy March Monster Madness, everybody! I hope your March has been going well.

I kept my promise and will be posting mostly monster related stories throughout the month of March. And even though this is just the first one, I still have enough time to pump out some more stories for your hungry eyes!

To kick off our Monster Madness, I decided to keep it a bit simple. Our story involves a high school girl heading home, when she decides to take a shortcut through a dark alleyway. That’s usually never a good sign.

What do you think is going to happen? Well, continue reading Youngster by the Dumpster to find out!

Enjoy!

Playing with the Dead

May the passed rest in peace. Thy has no right to disturb those from their eternal slumber. Restless souls will rise up and roam through the gates of purgatory and seek vengeance on who desecrated their resting place.  

One’s intentions may be pure and without malicious intent. However, that would make one look like a fool in the eyes of the dead. 

“Conjuring up spirits isn’t something we shouldn’t even be thinking about!”

Story Preview: Kazumi (Working Title)

For those of you who read my little sum-up of February so far, you saw this coming. For those who didn’t it’s just a bigger surprise!

As promised, here’s a sample of the story I was working on before I became sick. Feel free to leave your opinions and ideas in the comments or email them if you’d like. All feedback is appreciated!

*****

“Hmm. I have a feeling that the main character is going to be put through something that will require him to sacrifice something. That’s how the plot seems to be leading itself.”

The tiny girl flipped the pages of her obviously over-sized novel. In comparison to her tiny body the book could have acted like a small divider that protected everything below her neck. Book propped up against her legs and her narrow fingers traveling along as she read the words Violet carefully read her novel: The Unfortunate Life of Mr. Takeshi. Those who knew about that book we’re at least the age of twenty-one, legal adults who wouldn’t dare pick up the book unless they wanted to have nightmares for the following month.

Young Kazumi kept her excitement for such horrors on a tight leash as he eyes darted across the aging pages. She was the sole collector of the unedited edition before it was released for a general publishing first edition.

As she lost herself in the vivid description of graphic gore, shredded limbs and torn body parts Kazumi had to constantly regain her immersion into her horrific novel after hearing all of the other children running around and having fun.

Kazumi tilted her head to the side to see the dozens of children running on the playground, “What’s so fun about running around a yard and screaming your head off? If anything, you’ll just get a sore throat and a headache afterwards.” She hid back behind her book and let out a disappointed sigh before continuing her reading.

Kazumi was obviously different from the rest of the elementary school students. While most of them enjoyed burning out their absurdly high amount of energy, jumping across imaginary lava pits, playing fake gun wars with their fingers, or just climbing across the massive jungle gym like actual animals, Kazumi would prefer to find the darkest corner of the sun-lit playground and read horror novels aimed towards older crowds. Kazumi had purposely made herself the “black sheep” of the entire school, but it allowed her to avoid unnecessary conversations from other students.

However, seeing such unusual behavior caused her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Honomura, to call her parents in for a one-on-one meeting. It was futile as her parents approved of Kazumi’s high desire to read, regardless if it was a children’s book or a violently graphic novel. They were just happy that their child actively wanted to read.

Nonetheless, Kazumi thrived in her alone time.

Today, as she read about her favorite main character having to choose between losing a leg or an arm, a group of children on the playground thought it would be a good idea to disturb her daily reading ritual. Many of the school children felt like Kazumi was unusual, almost like she was a robot sent into spy on them like their imaginative playtime sessions. In their sessions robots possessed supernatural reflexes, able to dodge anything within a matter of milliseconds.

To see if she really was a robot, one of the fifth-graders grabbed a red rubber ball and launched it with all of their strength. This particular fifth-graders was known for hurting other students during a game of dodgeball: he was rumored to have knocked out an entire row of teeth from another student who got hit in the face with a ball. With a quick wind-up the student launched the ball with all of his might, his target seemingly unaware of the red sphere flying towards her.

It took no more than a second for the ball to travel across the playground. Right as the ball was about to crash into Kazumi’s book it came to a sudden stop. The only thing is, nothing caught the ball nor did it hit anything: the ball was suspended in mid air. Confused about if they should be scared or amazed the children kept their eyes on the ball to see what would happen next.

Noticing the sudden silence on the playground Kazumi put the book down and immediately saw the dodgeball just a few inches away. However, from her point of view, she could clearly see the reason why it never hit her. Her eyes darted up Kazumi saw a familiar arm extending out from over her head.

The arm was muscular along its entire length, veins lightly protruding on the forearm. The skin was an unnatural color, an off-gray color with faint hues of blue patches. The hand tightly gripping the ball was large and had talon-like fingers that could shred anything to strips within seconds. The hand occasionally squeezed the ball like a beating heart.

To many, seeing something so dry, so dead-looking would throw them into a fit of panic and fright. For Kazumi, she knew the body that the arm was attached to and felt no such fear. She didn’t have to look back to see who was behind her.

“Thank you, Ogaki. I was just finishing up this chapter when that ball was thrown.”

Kazumi brought her attention to the group of students bundled together across the playground. They’re still in shock about the ball, but she could see a growing fear in their eyes; she knew that they were unable to see “Ogaki,” but that was only because Kazumi didn’t want to cause an uproar as it would further disturb her reading.

“Throw the ball back, Ogaki,” she said as she picked her book back up and went back to her reading.

Following the young girl’s words the arm gently tossed the ball back across the playground. It quickly fell and went rolling along the gravel ground. The other school children didn’t dare touch the ball, thinking there might be something cursed on it. After a moment of complete silence one of the children breaks out in a sprint, screaming at the top of their tiny lungs. Many more follows behind in the same manner.

Kazumi took one last glance at the other school kids, “Idiots.”


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

Catsuit Yakuza

It’s always a deadly game when wanting to rob somebody or something. There’s always the chance of getting caught and being thrown in jail to serve time behind bars. However, if one is able to get away with such an act, they can live a life of luxury and knowing they’re able to fill their pockets without getting caught.

However, if one of those places that’s being robbed turned out to be a den of a notorious and violent gang, it would be a better idea to hope that you don’t end up dead should you get caught. Even then, who would be stupid enough to even attempt such a foolish act?

Those who don’t have a choice.

“Hiro,” Masane began speaking, “what do you think this man’s reasoning is for breaking in? Think he’s in debt with another clan? Wanted to support his family?”

She crumpled up the lottery ticket, “You’re taking too long to answer. I got tired of waiting. Somebody hold him down.”

Wine Shop of Horror

The daily life of a stock clerk may seem simple, but having to deal with obnoxious customers can easily wear down a person’s willingness to be the best employee.

In reality, one person won’t always know everything about what they sell, especially if it’s a rather large area that covers multiple regions and areas. In this example, one man doesn’t realize just what kind of person he’s dealing with.

Due to such, he ends up in a dire situation that easily could have been avoided.

“Are you trying to threaten me?”

“That wasn’t a threat. It was a warning.”

I tried to call out for help, but nobody ever arrived.

Spooktober – Drive-by Slasher

Afternoon, everybody! Spooktober is ALMOST over, but I managed to squeeze in a little quick thing I wanted to put out for you guys to read. To be a bit honest, I had an idea that I wanted to work with, but it kinda derailed halfway through. Nonetheless, it’s still worth the read. May come back to it later in the future.

Without further delay, here’s “Drive-by Slasher.”

When you’re a young, single man who has his own bachelor pad, most of the time you’ll just want to enjoy your life before settling down for a bit. Having a nice job to help keep you financially able to do these things is always a plus. Stylish cars, fancy clothes, and an appetite for fun comes with the lifestyle.

However, suddenly realizing that you’re missing limbs after going grocery shopping doesn’t fit into that lifestyle.  

“My… My foot… What happened to my foot? It’s gone!”

Spooktober – Hand of Darkness (Part One)

Happy Spooktober! It’s that time of the year where Halloween is just a few days away! To celebrate this ghastly month, I’ve decided to post a new horror-themed story every were. And now, here’s the first one – “Hand of Darkness – Part One.” Enjoy!

Chain and bondage have always been used as the simple and effective way of torture. It forces the victim to be bound to one place, often bound by multiple parts of their bodies. Unable to move or protect themselves, the victim is forced to endure and live through whatever events they have to witness. Sometimes the victim themselves are enduring the pain. Other times, they could be forced to watch somebody else suffer. Regardless of the method, the cold, metal restraints will be a long-lasting sensation on their skin. 

Should they be able to survive the ordeal and escape. 

“Please, somebody help me!”

The woman in the shadows let out a small sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and disappointment, “Really? What good would calling out for help do for you?”

For just a brief moment, the chained woman manages to lift her head up to see who walked into the alley. Seeing a bright light appearing in front of her, the woman notices the approaching police officer, in his dark blue uniform and badge proudly on display on his uniform shirt. When he shines his light towards the back of the alley, he breaks into a panic and runs down the alleyway.

One Way Out

I just want to get out of here. I’ve seen enough gore and grotesque scenes to last multiple lifetimes. How a virus can cause such devastation still boggles my mind.

And now I could be the next victim of the same virus. Locked in a room with Jack, a corpse, and a growing viral bomb, I don’t want to imagine what it would be like having to suffer like this.

But at the same time, dying would be the easy way out. And I don’t want to die.

Legends of the Dark: Arctic Mansion (Part Two)

After being attacked by a strange, blue stained corpse, Suzume is finally starting to make some ground around the mansion. With a key in hand, she can now explore an old room that she passed before.

However, when she enters that room, it only leads her into more danger, much much more danger than before. With a strange shadow walking through and an unknown voice singing, will she be able to save herself and her sister?

Shortly after, she could see a slender shadow walking through the mist. She couldn’t make out any fine details, just that the shadow was approaching the house with every step.

“Hikaru… What happened to you? You look so… lifeless.”