Beast Trigger

They thought they could change me. That immersing me in this… darkness… would help. That it would make things different. Fix me. Shatter the thing that claws. That bites. They thought they could break the beast within me by plunging me into memories. By trying to change what I know. Change my experience. Eliminate the past.

Morons.

I told them this wouldn’t work.

I’m all for destroying the beast inside—believe me, I am—but…

I want to do it right. Correct. Vanquish the beast completely.

I know the beast within. I know it well.

After all—this beast within?

It’s just me.

And I knew:

This wouldn’t work. I told them very directly, very plainly.

This won’t work.

…

…well.

I wasn’t wrong.

Hunter, Oh Hunter

Hunter, hunter.

Taking flight.

Hunter, hunter.

Roaring might.

Hunter, hunter.

Devour light.

Hunter, hunter.

Bring the night.

Part of the Crop: A Tale of Harvest

Nobody outside of the community would know, because there’d be no way for them to know. This curse is ours, and ours alone. No other land sees the creature—no one else has to fear it like we do. Our ancestors spilt the blood on this land, and this land makes us pay for it.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

Every year.

When the crops rise, and the harvest moon peaks its bleary eyes out over the night sky, we know.

It’s almost time.

Untrapped

Revenge is petty.

A waste of your time. A way to be consumed, to give your time and energy and life away to something that’s already stolen from you.

Idiotic.

Vengeance is not my goal. Not my ideal. What I do, I don’t do out of hate, or spite, or anger. Revenge is not my motivation.

I have more important things to do. Better motivations.

I have lives to move forward.

People to protect.

Them included.

From The Glass

I found a glass.

It looked like a tube. A spyglass that had lost most of its bulk. It was transparent, but the material inside was jagged. Edged. Sharp. If it broke, it would probably splinter, with the way it was bent inside. Twisted.

Warped.

That’s what it did.

A spyglass that made things closer. That made them bigger. A spyglass that brought things to the forefront of your mind, by bringing it to the forefront of your eyes.

Warped interior and all.

I found a glass.

HALLOWEEN!!!!!!

Hello everyone!

And:

Happy Halloween!!!

Well, happy October, anyway.

We all know Halloween is just around the corner, and I am pumped. I love haunted houses, I love the fall air, I love how chilly it gets, I love pumpkin seeds, and I love horror movies. As a kid, I was picked on a lot by my older brother (nothing too bad, just typical sibling shenanigans) and my only way to get back at him was to scare him.

And scare him I did.

Believe me, I did.

In fact, when we visit with each other, I still do scare him. Mostly by accident, sometimes on purpose. It kinda depends on the situation and what mood I’m in.

ANYWAY:

Halloween was always the best time of year to scare my brother. Sure, he was expecting it, but that didn’t lessen his reactions any, and it didn’t detract from the spookiness of the month. Even something as simple as a song could rock his world, that’s how much of a scaredy cat he is.

That said:

I’m going to take a break from stories today (not entirely, of course, since I’ve already kind of told a few, and since stories are, apparently, an integral part of my life) and instead, I’m going to share a few spooky songs that ought to be blared at this time of the year but are, generally: ignored, or overlooked, or not well-known enough to get to be part of everyone’s spooky halloween spirits.

Without further ado, here is my list:

Magic Is Not “Mine”

There is a root to selfishness.

It’s a knowledge. A knowing. When you reach out and push away, or grab at, or break. Looking at something and thinking to yourself “I want that” or “I want that away from me” or “I want to destroy that” and for no other reason than simply because you want to. Selfishness is being fully in the know about what you’re doing. Yes, you might deny it to yourself, but you know.

You know.

That’s selfishness. True and unfiltered selfishness, cut down to its root.

Knowing what you’re doing is wrong, and doing it anyway.

Knowing that getting what you want will hurt someone, put them at a disadvantage.

Knowing.

And doing anyway.

That’s why I can’t forgive them. Ignorant as some may be, they’re not all that way.

Some of them know.

Bone Reckoning

It wasn’t raining. Wasn’t night. The sun was shining through the window, beaming through the curtains to bring him the slightest ounce of light.

He didn’t want it.

He had no right.

A monster, a beast. The blood stained his house, beckoned at every door. He’d hunted, and he’d trapped, and he’d ripped them to shreds. Threw out their peace to bring favor for their dead.

No.

The light was not his. Certainly, he had no right.

He picked up his pen, squinting at the sun. The thoughts haunting him, the terror of night.

And with his thoughts swirling, the dead rising in their call.

He began to write:

Journal entry 74, book 1189.

More than likely, this is my last entry. I hope to survive this ordeal, but I don’t believe I will.

If God is true, and just, and mighty, then I will not.

If God is truly mighty, then surely:

I must die.

Okay

The door slammed a lot harder than she expected. As if the wind took it, or an angry demon had been summoned inside the apartment.

Which could be the case, in all honesty.

However, that wasn’t why the door slammed.

It was because she was angry.

And, quite possibly, a little hurt.

Well…

As hurt as a vampire can be, anyway.

Secrets For Secrets

It was my father’s. And it was his father’s. And it was that man—the man that fathered my father’s father—it was his, too.

Never step foot inside.

Never peak through the window.

Never light the hearth fire.

It calls and it comes. It sleeps and it wakes. It watches.

And it waits.

Waits for the one who will break the rules.

What is it? I remember asking my father that over and over again as we stared at the house. As I gazed on the rotting boards and the crumpling paint. As I watched its shuttered eyes wink at me.

And he told me it was a secret. A secret that no one could know.

I wonder…

How far should you go for a secret?

Or, is it more important to ask:

How far are you willing to go for a secret?