Everyday For A Month: Day 24

"I never get what I want," Nina huffed. "Instead, I have to watch her get everything, day after day." 

'Take it back', said the voices from the wall. 'Retrieve everything she has taken from you.'

"I will." Nina said to the walls.

Nina set out to take back her husband, who had left her for Mary. With help from the walls, she snuck, connived, plotted and blackmailed until, finally, Todd came home.

Then Nina decided she wanted Mary's laugh too, because that's what Todd had said he liked best about Mary. He'd said this once at a party when he didn't think Nina was listening, but she'd heard him. So she took Mary's perfect laugh with a spell and a few drops of blood. 

The walls told her how.

Next to go was Mary's hair. Nina loved Mary's hair and wished it was her own. One night, when Mary was asleep, she shaved it off and took the perfect locks for herself. Leaving Mary bald and ugly gave Nina great pleasure. 

Nina still hated Mary.

No matter what she did, Mary always seemed to get the best out of every situation. 

Now, all Nina has are the walls. 

Todd put her in a room guarded by people in white and now all Nina has are the walls. They still whisper and tell her things. But now, they mostly laugh at her.

'So easily tricked' they say. 'So confused and angry' they say. They read the placard on the other side of Nina's locked door. The voices in the wall read the name to her over and over and and over: Nina Mary Anderson. 

** Note**

(I really don't care for this 'story' if you can even call it that, but for better or worse, it's what I wrote for day 24... = )

♡

Everyday For A Month: Day 23

"Your anger is getting the best if you," said the woman, "It's eating you up." Then she pointed to the black veins running up my arm towards my elbow... well, what was left of my elbow.

"Lady, if I wanted your advice, I promise, I'd ask for it." I snapped. I waited for the doctor to call my name. Waiting rooms were disgusting, full of abhorrent people and even nastier diseases.

"I'm just saying, it's something you can fix yourself."

"Mind your business, woman." I growled. She raised her eyebrows in a sort of shrug.

"Suit yourself." She mumbled.

Five minutes later, they called me back. I told my physician what was wrong, that part of my body was missing, because of these black veiny webs that were eating my hand and forearm/ elbow. 

She said she didn't see what the problem was. She told me to go home and get some rest.

I screamed at her and threw a magazine. 

By the time I got home, my upper arm was missing. I kicked my coffee table across the living room. Then threw a vase at my wife.

By morning, my legs were gone. Eaten up by a cruel, black, tar-like sludge that crawled up my body in the night. I told my wife if she didn't help me, when I got better, I'd fucking kill her.

She rolled her eyes and left me alone, knowing I couldn't get up to come after her bitch ass.

Even though part of me was missing, I still felt like I was there. But, sure enough, I was disappearing. 

I suppose the woman in the waiting room was right, I was losing myself to my anger. I suppose that's what happens when you kick people enough times, they write you off and watch you fade away, laughing as you go.
♡

Everyday For A Month: Day 22

So at around 8 p.m., it occurred to me that I'd forgotten to write today's blog post. I am committed to blogging everyday for 30 days in a row, no matter what. (Lord willing)...

About 6 hours ago, I had this miraculous idea about something creepy falling from airplanes and wreaking havoc on a single woman's life (who just happens to live near the airport)😜. I haven't brought that idea completely to fruition yet, but as soon as I do, I promise to post it and creep you guys out.

Right now, my aunt has flown in from Illinois to visit. I'm super excited that she's here and I'm looking forward to hearing some scary stories she says she has to tell me. So this post is going to be a short one.

As far as my writing life is going, I'm working on a story that incorporates the Seven Gates of the Egyptian Underworld, also known as Duat. 

The Duat story is weird and creepy. I would even say that it is "a different kind of writing all together". Something I've never written before, in a 'style/tone' I'm not used to. The character is odd, and as of right now he doesn't have a name. I'm not sure if I will even give him a name because I think for some reason, it may take away from the story. So right now, I'll just refer to him as X.

I'm excited to write X's story. Right now I'm planning seven stories, each one focusing on how he passes through each gate of the underworld. The story starts when he dies.

That's all I know for now!

Thanks for reading, you guys! I'll be back tomorrow, and hopefully it'll be with a story!

Boo yahhh!

Everyday For A Month: Day 21

Everyday For A Month: Day 20

The spiral staircase led to a bare wall. A plain slab of sheetrock that held nothing. Not a clock, no pictures. Nothing.

Jaime was determined to find out what lay behind that wall even if it killed her.

“Just knock it down. The suspense is driving me nuts.” She told her husband as she stood behind him on the stairs.

“It just leads to a small balcony. They probably sealed it off because they didn’t want their kids out there running around unattended.”

“Probably, but either way. I wanna see.”

“Alright. I’ll go get the sledgehammer.” Kyle turned to Jaime and gave her a quick peck on the lips as he descended. “Expect a trip to Lowe's when we see what we're dealing with.”

“Yeah, I expect it.” She chuckled still staring at the wall.

Ten minutes later, Kyle came back up, sledgehammer in hand and started gouging out the wall. They took turns until it was done, but no light shone through from the other side.

There was darkness, and nothing else.

Everyday For A Month: Day 19

I always used to tell myself... odd things. 

Like, make weird predictions. 

For example, I’d be rooting through my wallet, find a $2 bill, and in my head, I’d say something like, "you're going to spend that $2 at a gas station in Montauk" or, "2 years from now, the t-shirt that guy was wearing at the bus stop is going to be important to you". 

Just ramblings. 

Weirdo thoughts. 

Things that didn't make any sense.

They never came true. 

Until yesterday, when I said to myself, "you're going to regret meeting Sarah. This is going to be the worst thing that ever happened to you."

The voice that said those words inside my head was mine, but it didn’t sound like me. It sounded more sure. More absolute. 

In short, the little warning stuck with me.

Why would I even say something like that about a woman who was quickly becoming the girl of my dreams? I mean, it wasn’t like I’d meant to say it; it was more like mental word vomit that just popped into my head. 

Unfortunately once it did, I couldn’t make it go away.

Sarah picked at her salad across the table from me. 

“Dylan, are you okay?”

I nodded and looked around the busy restaurant. 

Everyday For A Month: Day 18

Womp. Womp. Womp. 

That's how it started. Everyone in the world could hear it, I think. And if they didn't actually hear it, then they felt the vibrations associated with it.

Womp. Womp. Womp. 

A sound so loud, it became hard to breathe. Like the noise was vibrating the air and making it impossible to suck into your lungs. 

When you hear something that loud. That big. It makes your heart drop into your stomach. The tips of your fingers tingle. You start to shake and contemplate what it is to die. To stop existing.

And where would I be at the beginning of the end of world? Delivering groceries to an asshat named Brad. Which is kinda funny because my name is also Brad. Except for when I deliver groceries to Brad, then my given name morphs to Other Brad. 

I hate my job.

So I knocked on the door and Cool Brad (his idea, not mine) answers. Of course he's shirtless. As if to remind me of my own bony chest and he says: “Sup Shitty Brad.”

Ah, so I've devolved to Shitty Brad.

Beautiful. Just what I needed today.

Everyday For A Month: Day 17

A single writing prompt:

It wasn’t until after a few years of marriage that I began to have the sneaking suspicion my wife, Leandra, was made of bees... 

Everyday For A Month: Day 16

So, all day I was worried about what I might write for the blog today, when it occurred to me that I have a true horror story to share with you for once, and it happened today IRL.

My mom and I went out to eat at a local burger joint today after we finished our errands. We ate in the car, because we both like to feed the birds as we sit in the shade and munch.

I took the burgers and fries out of the plastic bag and casually tossed it into the backseat. 30 minutes later, we were rolling down the highway with all four windows open and I noticed there is a police car behind me; (but I'm actually going the speed limit, so I'm not too worried). Two seconds later, the plastic bag comes crawling upside my face, and wiggles its way out the window heading straight for the cop car behind me😱. 

At this point I'm thinking, "F#$%. I'm for sure gonna get pulled over for littering and reckless driving".

But luckily for me, nothing happened. The officer simply swerved and merged into to the other lane when our bag came flying at him. 

I'm so grateful that Houston PD did not pull me over. Because I did not want to pay a fine for accidentally littering. Nor did I want to be asked to trapse my not-so-happy-ass halfway down the highway (in this heat) and pick up my fast food bag.

Needless to say, when we pulled up at the house, I was sooooo happy to be home and off the road. 

Moral of the story: don't wait until your starving to eat, because then you'll be in too much of a hurry to secure your bag safely underneath something before you pull off on your way to go haunt somewhere else.

Lesson learned.

♡

Everyday For A Month: Day 15

I'm not really a fan of poetry, per se.

But I found one I'll share with you today.

It's about Christmas and Krampus, I'm sure

Listen to Sapphire, she'll ruffle your fur.

It's got all the good stuff a story should have,

Iambically delicious, satisfying, you might even laugh.

So sit down and listen, I've queued up YouTube

Just watch the damn video and don't catch a 'tude.

😉

Now that you've suffered through my horrible poem, here's a badass one:

"Twas the Night Before Krampus " - by Scott A. Johnson

Performed by Sapphire♡ 

Everyday For A Month: Day 14

I know this witch lady that makes these cookies that give you superpowers for 24 hours.

I never believed anything like that could exist, but I went to her shop and I'd tried her regular cookies before. They were good. Excellent even. The rumors all said to stay away from her "Roulette Menu". Roulette, hence, when you bought one of these cookies, you couldn't be sure what you might be getting.

I ate a roulette cookie this morning. I'm still not sure what it does, but I feel like I've been hearing other people's thoughts all day.

Everyday For A Month: Day 13

As soon as young Eli got off the bus, he noticed his house was missing.

It was a small house, with blue shutters and white boards everywhere the blue shutters weren't. It normally sat between 3121 Lincoln Ave and 3125 Lincoln Ave; but now, it was gone. There was no house between 3121 and 3125. In fact, the two houses that had previously sat on either side of Eli's missing house, now sat next to each other. 

What is a 13 year old to do when they find their house missing? Eli found a shallow puddle in the street and checked his reflection to make sure he wasn't missing too. He wasn't. But there was another reflection in the puddle he hadn't expected. A man's.

He wore a black suit and tie, like he was going to a funeral; and when Eli looked up from the puddle in surprise, so too did the stranger.

Everyday For A Month: Day 12

(This is the only thing I've written all day, so it'll have to do... lol)

Telephone: Alice, y won't you tt me? 

Alice: Leave me alone. 

T: I can't. All the time we've spent together, the laughs we shared. ily, Alice. 

A: You ruined it when you spoke out of turn. 

T: Just hold me again. 

A: 

T: Just look at me again. 

A: 

T: ily. ttys.

Everyday For A Month: Day 11

Tongue

“That was wonderful.” Tonya gasped as she lay bare chested with a swirl of silken sheets just barely covering the area between her legs. She took a drag from her cigarette. Her manicured nails glistened in the halflight and Robbie was pleased that he had pleased her. “You're well worth the $6K you cost me, dear.” She added with a half lidded smirk.

“I should hope so.” He chuckled.

“Your touch is magical. Your massages are to die for… and your tongue. Robbie, you have the tongue of a… of a…” she didn't have the words. “Well, I don't know.” She giggled. “There's simply nothing on Earth quite like it.”

Tonya was giddy, high off the sexual energy they'd just shared.

“This tongue loves the taste of you.” Robbie whispered as he plucked the cigarette from her fingers, then leaned over her seductively to stub it out in the ashtray beside the bed.

“Does it?”

“It does.” He caressed her bare shoulder. “Fancy letting me have another taste?” He asked, mischief in his eyes. Tonya was delighted. To be the center of such a handsome man's attention was divine.

Robbie kissed her collarbone, letting his forked tongue slide from between his lips and wrap itself twice around her neck.

As her eyes widened with fear, his tongue squeezed until the skin around it turned blue. As she slipped away, Tonya thought to herself, “I knew he was too good to be true.”

The ones with the good tongues often are.

Everyday For A Month: Day 10

“Murderous Intentions; Honorable Mentions.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little long for a rapper name?”

I shrugged. “MIHM isn’t.”

Kit rolled her eyes and poked fun at me by miming the letter ‘L’ across her forehead. “How many raps you got?”

“Several.” I said, looking away. Across the street, there was a man sitting on a bench, and he was staring straight at me. I felt a chill.

“Beats too?”

“Yup.” The bus pulled to a stop in front of Kit and I. “Some are even on the radio.” I added.

“Well, I guess that’s not so lame then.” Kit didn’t know that the radio station was being run out of someone’s basement, and even then, only on Tuesdays, when the guy was off work. She got up and waved goodbye as the bus doors squeaked open. “See you later brother MIHM.”

“Toodles.” I shot her the peace sign and she laughed at my weird goodbye. “And I’m not your brother Kit, I just happen to like ya.”

“Whatever,” she said walking backwards towards the open doors. “You may as well be, you're the only one who looks out for me anymore.”

I shook my head ‘no’ and tapped my ear like I couldn’t hear her. The sad reality of what she’d said was true. I was the only one who looked out for her anymore. She was only twelve and she lived across the hall from my apartment with her crackhead mother. I basically just walked her to the bus stop every morning and made sure she got on okay; for that, she called me her brother.

As the bus pulled away, the dude from across the street was standing just on the other side of it. He warbled aimlessly in the middle of the road, staring at me. He was well dressed, for the most part, and wore a bluish gray bowler hat.

He took a few more steps towards me. The man moved slow, so I tried to wrap my head around how he’d gotten all the way from one side of the road to the other so quickly when the bus pulled up. Still, he stared at me.

Everyday For A Month: Day 9

Hi, 

You may not know me, but my name is Thierry Adler. I'm a Warlock and my author is Avrin Kelly. She thinks I'm pretend. 

*Chuckles*

Anyway, Avrin is one of those people that likes obsess over stupid shit---rather than doing what she should be doing, (preparing for the apocalypse), she's worried about writing a book. I can't entirely blame her, because that book is about me, and obviously my story needs to be told. But---- I suppose, if I could give her a few tips on writing about me and my world/life, they would be the following:

Everyday For A Month: Day 8

"We Belong Together"

It was convenient having this gift. She could keep an eye on Roger more easily now than ever before. It was nothing for her to dematerialize and slip between the cracks of a closed door, or slither down a gutter pipe and come out on the 'safe side' of Roger's fenced in backyard.

Everyday For A Month: Day 7

Wow! Day 7! I DID NOT THINK I WOULD GET THIS FAR!!!

I thought for sure I'd forget to post enough times in a row that the idea of blogging everyday for a month would be moot, but alas, here I am! 

Everyday For A Month: Day 6

About My Missed Day:

Welp, I forgot to do Day 5. That blogging streak lasted a long time...

*Eye roll*

Rather than dwell on the fact that I have the memory of an eggplant, I'll just say that Day 5 would have been pretty funny if I'd have written a post about it. I went to a wedding. Got snockered and live tweeted it instead... 😊

Day 6:

Today I woke up at 5am and had this really strong urge to write. I haven't felt that way in a long time, so I think this daily blogging thing is working. I wish I could say that work on my novel(s) wasn't slow going, but I'd be lying if I told you I was writing five words and only deleting two of them per paragraph in "Trigram". 

It's more like a 5:6 | write:delete ratio right now. 

Everyday For A Month: Day 4

I'm still pretty happy that I'm going strong. Well, not as strong as I was going yesterday, but still. I'm here, that's gotta count for something right?! = )

I don't have much to share today, other than I've been thinking of a way to find other horror writers like myself. 

Does a #forum for #horror #writers sound interesting to you?

Do you feel like as a writer of horror, you can't find other like-minded people to bounce ideas off of?

Lemme know your thoughts! (If you have time! 🤗)
💗💀

— Avrin Kelly (@AvrinKelly) July 6, 2018