Monthly Archives: October 2006

Stone Cold Killer – A Short Horror Story

Stone Cold Killer
Written by: Ben Marroquin
StoryMask.com

The phone rang several times before she answered it.

“Hello?”

“Yes, is Isabella Aaronson there?”

“Speaking.”

“Oh, good. This is Sarah Rogers from the Grace Falls Foundation. There was a bit of vandalism that took place at the park last night. Unfortunately, it seems somebody decided to deface the statue we commissioned you to create for us last month. We were wondering if you could go down to the park to see if the damage could be repaired. We’re willing to pay you for the job.”

“That’s terrible news! I hope they catch the awful vandal that did it. And yes, I’ll go and see what I can do about repairing the statue. I’ll even do the work for free, I’ll just charge for supplies.”

“Thank you Mrs. Aaronson, that’s wonderful news. Just send us the receipt for the supplies and I’ll happily cut you a check of reimbursement. It really is a wonderful work of art, a real treasure for those of us that enjoy visiting Grace Falls Park. Well, it’s getting a little hectic around here, so I better go. I look forward to talking with you soon. Bye.”

“Bye, and I’ll let you know if I have any problems.”

Isabella walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down to a jelly doughnut. Her husband, Blaine, put his paper down and gave her an inquiring glance pertaining to the phone call. She told him who called and what had happened at the park to her artwork as their 6 year old son, Mason, came bounding down the stairs ready for school.

Blaine stood up, put on his business coat, and kissed her lightly on the lips. He looked deep into her eyes, told her he loved her and to be careful as little Mason made a “grody” face.

His parents both looked at him and burst into laughter. “Come on squirt, don’t want to be late for school, do you?” his father said.

Mason jumped into his father’s arms. Blaine lifted his son to mom’s cheek, which Mason kissed, then with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, turned into a wet giggling lick. “Eeewwww!” Isabella said with a laugh, as smiling daddy ‘airplaned’ giggling Mason out the door, into the car, and off to the great beyond.

Isabella put her wavy raven hued hair in a ponytail, slipped on her causal wear, grabbed her oversized bag, and headed out to her silver Ford Mustang. A half hour later, she found herself standing at the entrance to Grace Falls Park with her bag slung over her shoulder. She stared at the beauty of the lush green grass, autumn hued trees, and wonderfully quaint network of cobblestone paths.

It was one of these paths that led her to her statue; it stood proudly in the center of a clearing, circled by a path of cobblestones. Intricate stone benches sat on all four sides, inviting visitors to sit and enjoy the sculpture she named Wood Myths. There was a graceful wood nymph queen, with a crown of holly, in a light spring dress, arms raised above her head in dance as she celebrated the solstice in the center of the sculpture.

The wood nymph queen was surrounded by a small, strange, and delightful menagerie of dancing woodland creatures of myth; the shortest reaching one foot in height, while the tallest of them touched three feet. The whole sculpture stood on a pedestal that slowly spun, as if in an unseen music box. Simply, breathtaking… if only the vandal hadn‘t chipped off the wood nymph queen‘s face.

Isabella had put her heart, soul, and sweat into the piece.

She stood facing her sculpture, large oak trees swaying in the early morning wind around her, as anger made her oblivious to her surroundings. He had been trailing her ever since he saw her enter the park with the large bag strapped round her shoulder. His filth covered hood hid his gaunt face and hollow eyes from the mid-morning sun. His body trembled for its next fix.

He came round the wide oak trunk, hand in his oversized thrift store coat gripping his large switchblade. Just grab the purse, slash the strap, and run like hell! Nothing to it he thought to himself. But he should have known that life rarely goes as planned.

The next scarlet moments seemed to move in slow motion; he stalked her from behind, grabbed the oversized bag she had clasped (white knuckled) in her angry hands, the pull spun her body round to face him, her eyes widened as she saw the blade coming towards her causing her to release an ear piercing scream. She pulled back, hand still unconsciously grasping the bag, causing him to lose his balance as the blade missed its mark and ripped into her throat. Blood sprayed out as she spun, and rained down on her statue.

Panicked, the druggie turned mugger turned killer pushed her body tumbling towards the statue and fled with bag in hand. The life flowed out of Isabella’s body onto the sculpture as her killer’s scrambled thoughts revolved around the blissful escape of drugs.

(to be continued this weekend)


Darkness – Flash Fiction Horror Story

Darkness
Written by: Ben Marroquin
StoryMask.com

He pressed his feverish forehead against the window, taking in the coolness of the glass. His breath seemed to frost it as he watched the innocent people shuffling about below, oblivious to the darkness coming; darkness born not of the night, but of his folly.

He pulled the mini recorder out of his oversized coat pocket and hit the record button. “It‘s Thursday, February 28, 2041. I‘m Senior Scientist Angel Macklin and if you’re listening to this, then I’m already dead… or worse.” His eyes glazed with a far away look, recalling the horrible events that had transpired.

Trembling, he continued his dictation, “Experiment Polugen 117 wasn’t the success we thought it was 5 years ago. The anti-pollution organism, used in just about every water and air purifiers round the world, has done the unthinkable. It has mutated into a transmutation virus we have classified as codename: Transmugen.”

“We discovered the life altering mutation, less than 74 hours ago, when Assistant Scientists Jessica Gomez and Kevin Taggart displayed flu like symptoms, ending in a feverish transitional period. In less than 18 hours they entered a coma like state and then the genetic mutations began… the poor souls.” Tears ran down his cheeks unfettered.

“Skin darkened and thickened, limbs lengthened into beastly appendages ending in claws, eyes became like pools of oil, and teeth fell out, replaced by needle fangs… Gomez even grew misshapen wings. They broke free of their containment rooms and chaos ensued. They ripped through skin like wet paper with their claws. Blood pooled as they feasted on flesh, killing some, mutilating others, and infecting over half that lived.” He said as he absently rubbed his bandaged left arm.

He made his way round the coffee table, onto the couch as his eyelids began to droop. “From what we have gathered, approximately 40% of those infected will mutate, 20% will die, and the rest will survive to face a world of flesh eating beasts, a world of gnashing darkness. The virus has even spread to the lab animals. It will infect… maybe even destroy the food chain. Dear God, what have I done? I have killed life on earth as we know it…” Sobs wracked his body as the guilt of his actions consumed him.

“Please, if you are listening to this recording, you must know that it was not my intentions to destroy our world… there is hope… or at least a sliver of hope; some of those infected have kept their humanity intact, have even shown evolutionary abilities. I witnessed three of them… three altered humans use these special abilities to fight back and allow us to escape the secret compound. One moved objects with his mind with deadly precision, another sparked fires with her bare hands, and one was able to control one of the beasts to aid us.”

Tainted blood began to flow from gums as his body sought to drag his consciousness into the dark. “Not much time left… the darkness is coming, bringing change. If you get this, make sure it gets into the right hands. It’s coming, they‘re coming. Prepare or die… I fear the worst… but hope for…”

He used the last of his remaining consciousness and strength to place the recording in a large manila envelope simply labeled: Police. His head then hit the arm of the couch as he entered the arms of fathomless darkness.

It was 2:38 a.m. in New Jersey when the sounds of shattering glass filled the night. The broken window showered down shards onto the nearly empty street below. A huge dark winged beast jumped out into the brisk night air and took flight as witnesses ran for cover. Powerful wings pumped as oily eyes searched the landscape below.

It spotted three red glowing forms in an alley, huddled round a fire burning in a round metal garbage can. Screams filled the night as the beast satiated its hunger… Screams that signaled the beginning of a war for all mankind and life on earth. A true World War against a devouring Darkness.