I’ll be waiting

May 7, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.5/10 (671 votes cast)

You don’t know me. No one knows me. Only Master knows of my existence. But Master and I know all of you. We visit all of you, my friends, during the witching hour.

I’m never there during the day. The sun’s rays penetrate my shadowy soul and obliterate my flesh. My bones turn to ash and my organs become dust. Daytime in one place is nighttime in another though, so Master and I always are traveling. Never in one place for too long.

After the sun has died and the moon lives again, I come. I’ll get close up to you and breathe in the scent of your life. I listen to your heartbeat and breathing. Master then starts work on you, putting one finger on your forehead and whispering Latin words. You always end up squirming or screaming. Master calls them nightmares. I always want to comfort you, hold you close. But I can never touch, not ever. Master tells me never to touch.

I’ve learned not to touch. Master hurt me badly, and my skin, my scarred, sensitive skin, has paid the price. But sometimes I can’t help myself. When Master isn’t looking, I strike. I brush my fingernails down your arms, trace your lips, comb your hair away from your face. But my skin kills your kind, breaks the blood vessels, bruises your body in mysterious ways you can never figure out. I’m sorry, I really am. I just can’t help myself. I want to show you how much I love you.

When Master and I are done with you, I always remember to take a souvenir. Usually it’s something small that you won’t notice is missing, like a coin or a pen, snatched up from behind Master’s back. But sometimes you don’t have very much. When that happens, I take something else, with Master’s permission of course. Hair. Nails. Eyelashes. A part of you. And it will always be mine.

I hope to see you tonight. But if you don’t fall asleep, we’ll have a problem. Master says I can’t let you see me. If you see me, our friendship will be over. And I’ll have to kill you. I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to see the blood seep through your bedsheets. I don’t want to see your face as you scream at the sight of me. My deformed skin. My scars. My love for you.

But maybe, deep down inside, just a little bit, I do. I am Master’s child, afterall.

Sweet dreams, darlings. I’ll be waiting for you.

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.5/10 (671 votes cast)

Marie Thibodeaux

April 29, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.1/10 (356 votes cast)

Marie Thibodeaux (1801-1881) was a remarkable woman. She was kind, intelligent, headstrong, and never once told a lie.

She was also a Voodoo High Priestess.

She lived her entire life in New Orleans, establishing a reputation from an early age as a potent healer and clairvoyant. People travelled for miles simply to visit her apothecary, although many more sampled her legendary concoctions. By the 1870’s, she had simultaneously become one of the most feared and revered figures in Louisiana.

In 1881, a landowner named Jacob Parrish travelled to New Orleans from Baton Rouge. Parrish was vastly wealthy and devoutly religious, but possessed a morbid fascination for the occult. He had hired a platoon of ex-soldiers from the recently concluded Civil War, and with them he marched down Bourbon Street and into Marie’s store.

Despite the protests of her assistants, Marie granted Parrish an audience. He had heard rumours that the great Voodoo Queen had discovered the secret to eternal life, and demanded that she yield it to him.

Never flustered, Marie corrected him: she had indeed discovered a ritual that would grant immortality, but only for a set period of time – fifty years, to be exact. Once performed, the subject would rise again after his natural death, having no need for food, air, or water, immune to disease, and utterly impervious to bodily harm. After fifty years had elapsed, however, the subject would die once more, never to rise again.

Frustrated by this revelation, Parrish nevertheless knew her by reputation to be an honest woman, and would not pass up the opportunity to live beyond his natural lifespan. Marie agreed to conduct the ritual for him, as long as he vowed to leave New Orleans permanently once it had been concluded. Parrish agreed, and the ritual was performed. True to his word, Parrish returned to Baton Rouge later that day – but not before ordering his mercenaries to murder Marie and her assistants and to burn her apothecary to the ground.

Louisiana folk are renowned for their superstitions, which are many and varied. It was unusual, however, that dozens would later swear that they had seen disembodied shadows making their way en masse up to the Parrish Manse that night. The following morning, the fifteen mercenaries were found with their necks snapped as though they had been twigs. Parrish himself was discovered in his bed, wide-eyed and apparently terror-stricken, his throat town out with such ferocity that the State Coroner was forced to conclude that a bear had somehow made its way into his locked, second-floor bedroom. The hints of black magic were not lost on locals, however, who promptly buried all sixteen bodies in Magnolia Cemetery the following day.

Marie Thibodeaux was a remarkable woman. She never told a lie, but that is not to say that she never withheld the truth. What she had not disclosed was that resurrection would not take place until seventy-two hours after death.

When Parrish’s grave was exhumed for relocation in 1953, puzzled excavators noted the singularly deep gouge marks found inside the coffin lid.

Credit To – September Derleth

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 8.1/10 (356 votes cast)

Touch

February 14, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 6.6/10 (1144 votes cast)

He and his girlfriend weren’t the most romantic couple – their idea of spicing up their relationship was making out in the dark. He came over to her house late one night, when her parents were out of town, and they lay down on her bed together. He turned off the bedside lamp, held her hands in his, and began kissing her gently. The thing about the darkness is that it heightens your other senses.

The sound of her gentle breathing, beginning to quicken.

The sweet smell of perfume at the base of her neck.

The taste of her lips, and the salt on her skin.

The feel of nails beginning to dig into his shoulders.

Despite the darkness, his eyes snapped open as he realised that both her hands were still clasped firmly within his own.

Credit To – September Derleth

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 6.6/10 (1144 votes cast)

Knock Knock

February 6, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 5.9/10 (1008 votes cast)

I bolted upright in the bed not sure what I expected to see, but knowing that something had startled me awake. Moonlight filtered in through the window and I shivered despite the unseasonably warm temperature. After a few moments I heard it; a soft tapping of fingers against glass. Slowly I turned my head to the window expecting to see some horrible creature lurking there with sharp fangs and terrible claws — but there was nothing. There wasn’t even wind to knock the branches against the window. Cautiously I slid out of the bed and looked out the window, feeling relieved to see there was nothing outside.

“Just hearing things.” I murmured coming back to the bed. I wasn’t used to sleeping alone but my partner was away on business. Surely it was just the change in routine startling me. Moments before getting into the bed I heard the tapping again, slightly louder this time; less hesitant. I spun around, sandy blond curls sticking to my suddenly sweaty brow. The window was clear. A still and empty sky allowed the full moon to illuminate the ground below revealing no one or thing outside.

This time a loud banging, behind me; llike fists pounding on glass trying to escape. Against my better judgement I crossed the bedroom to the bathroom, resting my hand against the warm wooden door before pushing gently. A bit of moonlight spilled into the room. Nothing different or odd, nothing jumping out but… I shivered again and leaned over to light the candle I knew would be to my left. The warm glow seemed much brighter then normal and I jumped when I caught my reflection.

“It’s just me…” I trailed off as the ‘me’ in the mirror raised it’s hand before flashing white fangs and shattering the glass.

Credit To – TinyBear

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 5.9/10 (1008 votes cast)

I Sat On The Bus

January 2, 2015 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.9/10 (2001 votes cast)

I sat on the bus, on my way to school.

Listening to music, and paying little to no attention to the other students.

At one of the stops my mind snapped back to reality.

I looked towards the small house. Tommy’s house, I thought.

A hand slipped through the drapes of the window and waved the bus driver to move on.

‘He’s sick’, I thought, paying no large amount of attention to the situation.

The day flew by.

I watched the local news channel after school, and what I heard paralyzed me.

Tommy’s entire family was murdered that day by an unknown suspect.

After hearing this news, I moved back up to my room and quietly fell asleep.

——————————————-

The next day, I sat on the bus.

We drove past Tommy’s house and the bus driver, unaware of Tommy’s families fate, stopped at his home.

As I was about to get up and explain to her what had happened, something caught my eye.

A pale hand slipped through the drapes of the window, and waved the bus driver to move on.

I sat on the bus, terrified.

Credit To: Isaac Cook

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 7.9/10 (2001 votes cast)

Predator/Prey

December 29, 2014 at 12:00 AM
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 6.6/10 (1125 votes cast)

After a night of carousing with his buddies, Billy was ready to head home.

“Are you sure you want to walk home by yourself?” asked Todd, “You’ve heard the rumors, right?”

“What rumors?” ask Billy.

“You know, the problem…with vampires.” He said that last word almost in a whisper.

“Oh God! Really? I can’t believe you’re taking that seriously.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s ridiculous, that’s why! I need to scoot. It’s so late, the sun’s almost up.”

Todd shrugged. “Suit yourself, but if you get killed tonight, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

“I won’t say anything! I’ll be dead!” Billy called back as he started walking. The echoing laughter from the guys made him smile.

He hadn’t been walking long when he heard something rustling in the dark. He stopped and looked around. The noise also stopped. He cursed his own paranoia and continued, but he couldn’t shake that…feeling. A moment later, he heard it again, louder. His fear turned to anger.

“Who’s out there?!” he roared. Nobody answered. He told himself he was just being stupid and the best thing to do either way was get home as quickly as possible. He was just about to turn around when something charged him from the shadows. It happened so fast, he had no time to brace himself as the hulking figure hit him like a freight train. The next thing he knew, he was pinned to the ground by a burly man with a look of crazed hatred on his face. His eyes burned with a mixture of fury and disgust.

“Who the hell are you?” Billy demanded.

“Who do you think?” he said in a low, hoarse voice.

And then, Billy knew. This was the killer everybody had been whispering about. The vampire problem wasn’t just a rumor. The man reached in his toolbelt and took out two items that sent a wave of panic through Billy. He squirmed violently, but it was no use. His attacker was too strong. He shoved the wooden stake against Billy’s chest and raised the hammer high. Billy screamed in terror, his fangs glistening in the moonlight.

Credit To: E. Alan Rahn

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rate This Pasta
Rating: 6.6/10 (1125 votes cast)
Try a free sample Personal Astrology Profile!