The Ladies of Horror

Exestential Breakdown
by A.F. Stewart

Tick tock, Davy. Tick tock. Listen, listen. Hear the clocks?

“Please, no. Not again.” A small whimper in the night.

‘Round and ‘round your brain they go. Where it stops, we all know.

“I won’t listen this time. I won’t!” Quick breaths in and out. The urge to clamp his hands over his ears. “Just leave me alone! I won’t do it!”

Of course you will. You love the thrill. Clocks are ticking, the road awaits. Past time to eviscerate.

“You can’t make me do it this time!”

Oh, Davy, Davy, can’t we? Look my boy, what do you see?

He didn’t want to see the visions, but they were there. He didn’t want to answer. But he did. “The world painted sepia. Like an old photograph. The dirt road to nowhere and somewhere, lost in fog and eternal black.”

What else, what else? What do you hear? Let your reality disappear.

“The clocks. I hear the clocks. And the drip, drip of…”

Tears and blood. The weeping flood.

“Please, don’t do this.” A lost plea, echoing his footsteps.

Silly boy, you’re just our toy. Time to jaunt. What do you want?

One soft sigh. “Colour. I want colour.” He felt it now and started running. He ran forever. He ran from himself and toward the voices.

Look down, look down. In your wish you’ll drown.

Eyelids fluttered in descent, to stare. “Red. My hands are all red.”

Red means dead. We’ve had our fun, now we’re done.

“I’ve killed again, haven’t I?”

Yes, Davy, dear. They screamed in fear.

Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

About Author A.F. Stewart:

A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada and still calls it home. She favours the dark and deadly when writing—her genres of choice being dark fantasy and horror—but she has ventured into the light on occasion. She is fond of good books, action movies, sword collecting, geeky things, comic books, and oil painting as a hobby.

Website:  Welcome to Avalon

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/A.-F.-Stewart/e/B00653FUOW

Active Member of the horror writers group: Pen of the Damned

The Ladies of Horror

Magenta Dreams
by A.F. Stewart

Have you ever walked through the place of nightmares?

I have.

It’s beautiful, all midnight violet and stillness stretching across an indistinct horizon. A land of indigo woods and an amethyst haze, nestled in ethereal mist woven from stygian secrets.

It shifts along the unconscious, against the thought boundaries of the sleeping.

I can hear them, you know, the ones asleep. Like whispering voices at the edge of the trees.

They don’t know I’m here. They’re too busy dreaming sugarplums and bright happy wishes. They never look deeper.

They never learned to walk through other people’s dreams.

I started at thirteen, a jaunt past my own haunting fears about school and bullies, into a surreal fantasy with clowns and upside down ice cream cones drenched in scarlet rain. After that, I’d wander every night, a salacious voyeur into other people’s private dreams, and then their shuddering nightmares.

That’s how I found my orchid hued sanctuary, this imprisoned oasis. This vision in dark violet where all the underbelly horror lives. The black thoughts, the dark deeds, the furtive desires lurking underneath those sugarplums. All the ideas we don’t dare voice aloud.

It felt like home. It’s where I came to live, after…

And it’s where I made my decision to set them all free.

Tonight, I let the nightmares of the human race loose. Show them the path to escape.

That will be fun. They’ll ooze out from slumbering eyes and breathing noses, spew from throats, past groaning hypocrite lips, consuming their way into reality. They’ll leave behind hollow husks and empty shells, a legacy of dead dreamers. And best of all, as they’ll turn the world mauve and indigo and shivers, they’ll take me with them.

And I can finally wake up.

Fiction © Copyright A.F. Stewart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from A.F. Stewart:

Horror Haiku and Other Poems

Words linger…
In the darkness of shadows, in the distant screams.
They whisper past the drip, drip of blood.
The strange beauty of words hide, waiting for you.
Embrace the horror.

Venture past safe reality, into the world of terror told in verse. Horror Haiku and Other Poems brings forth surreal dread and spins it in artistic countenance. From small chilling bites of poetry, to murky morsels of fright, come find where the words haunt you, where they live and die.

Available on Amazon!

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