To be honest, this was a blog I posted on Myspace. I wrote it in about 30 minutes. I then edited and made it longer. The first version is the original. Thanks for your input.
Look for myspace/astriapo for more…
Horror / Jerky Boy
The oddest memories are the ones that cut through the muck of everyday existence. They pour themselves into your subconscious like honey suckle fragrance on a spring day. Macabre wonders that invite the bizarre and play tricks on your mind. Memoirs, that if given the chance, would shine through movie theaters and play houses with enthusiasm. What a wallop. These phantom images that want life, as troubling as they are, usurp your thoughts and leave you wishing the sight had not been seen at all.
Such as the winter night, one year ago, today. The window of my perception was slowly pulling itself shut when I saw it. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I had to look again. The horror that looked at me was mind numbing. I remember looking at the image and gasping. Jesus himself was a far better sight, after crucification, then the ominous creature hovering before me.
A large pole, or monolith reached into the moonlight drenched sky. Anointing its point was flesh. A small creature, perhaps fifteen months or so, outstretched so tight that its bones nearly pushed their way through the skin. Flailed wide open and drying. Perhaps for jerky. A small child. There was hair visible, but not much. Someone had skewered its arms so they would stay outreached at each side. Its legs were pinned tightly to the pole. I looked at the creature, it resembled a young boy, but I could not tell. Its entrails wrapped around and down the pole like a barbershops post. Even the blood that stained the wood, followed this twisting candy cane pattern.
The smell of old meat, rotten flesh danced with each nostril like wafts of smoke to a flame. I wanted to look away. I would have questioned my sight, but the putrid smell kept reminding me of the silhouetted figure above me. The air, as cold as it was couldn’t keep the fumes of decay from floating on the breeze. I wanted to close off all my senses, but the terrible sight keeps reigning me in. Haunting me with sickening discussed. I looked into its eyes and found empty pits that stole my curiosity. The image pushed itself deep into limbo and my thoughts became mixed emotional riptides of hate, anger, rage and the slightest taste of excitement lay bitter on my tongue like a bee sting. I spat at the ground.
My mind began to wonder with a curiosity that cut through the stagnant air. I thought about who could have put this here and why? The images of a devil cult dancing around a pyre of dead wood, burning. Their chanting echoing like distant thunder. My heart beat like a drum to the words they were saying. The image is too clear to be imagination, but I cannot see the tribal rites being performed with my eyes. It seems it’s a sight just beyond any humans vision. Paranoia has captured me with malicious intent and I cannot escape the hoard of phantom images playing with my mind.
I screamed. I could not bare the intense beating inside my chest and those damn mantras were getting louder and louder inside my head. I had to run from this inevitable doom that had succumbed my soul into madness. Even the screaming was a torment that bound my head like a vise. I dropped to my knees and held my head. Tears streamed from my eyes and chilled my cheek with cool wisps of wet inertia. I was doomed, or so it felt. I knew I was the next to fall onto the impalement’s of deity sacrifice.
I staggered to my feet and ran. I let that blanket of misery pull away from me like the veil of some tormented ghost. I could still hear the distant thundering and the sky was echoing flashes of tattered lightning from somewhere behind me. I had wished I had never been at the place or seen that horrible sight. I wanted the agony of the this winter night to wash away like the melting moons glow as the clouds cast their shadows like some foreboding that has yet to come.
Even now, the thought torments me and the memory is burned into my mind. In my dreams, the sight stirs the cauldron and refreshes itself. I wake with the malodor suffocating me. I cough and gasp. I want nothing more, than to forget about what I had seen, but my mind cannot let go. I cannot escape the memory of that night and I feel as though madness has set in…
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KindredSpirit reviewed Version 2 -
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BPL reviewed Version 2 -
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I like the detail most writters fail to put enough or put to much .You had the right combo here.Is it Pubishable -it has the potential.It is really good but dark .I thind you are right about needing more to it but again not to much .keep up the good work !!
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higginbot reviewed Version 2 -
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So, first of all, I do like it. Your style allows the reader to believe wholeheartedly in the strange apparition even though even the narrator itself finds his mind revolting at it.
Honestly, the only thing I could find wrong with it were minor wording issues. For example, I’m not sure that I like the phrase “the impalement of deity sacrifice”. Changing that phrase would require a rewrite of the entire sentence, however, and I can’t really come up with a better one in keeping with the tone and style you’ve set forth. Other than that, the only real problem I can find is that I believe honey suckle is one word (i.e., honeysuckle) rather than two. Beyond that, what I want to know is: Is this the complete story, or is this just the kickoff before the main event? If there is more, I would love to read it. As is though, this is a compelling read with very few flaws that could be easily fixed with another go-over.
Daemalous reviewed Version 2 -
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first the critiques
my head. I had to run from this inevitable doom that had succumbed my soul into madness. Even the screaming was a torment that bound my head like a vise. I dropped to my knees and held my head. you used head thrice. with as wonderful a vocabulary you’ve shown…you could have used skull or cranium.
I wanted the agony of the this winter night to wash away like the melting moons glow as the clouds cast their shadows like some foreboding that has yet to come. cool sounding but more confusing to the average reader. its a little too cryptic. I know you’re thinking thats what its supposed to be. but thus far you’ve done great with keeping a dark tone…but this is getting into EMO ( a term used to name a genre of teenage emotional music; and make fun of the same people alike) so yes this sentence was EMO near the end. clean that up while keeping the dark tone.
those were the only two things i have found. i loved this peice. your words and euphemisms really do a good job of weaving in and out of this horrible sight. with direct and indirect descriptions. it has inspired me
my biggest complaint is that it ends without ending…did you not have an ending…allow me to play muse for a second. Maybe he goes to his bathroom to wash the filth of adolescent gore from his mind. and finds bloody tools all over the bathroom floor in the tub and a blood trail out to the front room and out the door. and end it like that. so it insinuates he killed this baby in such a horrible manner.
please write more
JAs_jumper_cable reviewed Version 2 -
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This was a very odd and interesting piece. I really liked your comment about Jesus being a better sight, even after death, than the creature outside. It evokes many vivid, mental images for the reader. I think with a little work, it has plenty of potential.
You had a couple fragment sentences that could have been made changed slightly to be complete ones, or all added together to make one complete sentence.
“after crucification” spelled ‘crucifiction.’
“Even the blood that stained the wood, followed this twisting candy cane pattern.” I would remove the coma. Read the sentence again, it is not needed.
“beyond any humans vision” I think you meant humans’
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