Real World Horror: Psychic Warriors and Crumbling Crosses

     Far be it for me to be the one to burst the proverbial bubble that some people seem to have about the way the world works, but here goes an attempt:
     Have you heard of EFO? Well obviously you don't roam the mystic combat circles, because it is better known as Empty Force, a style of fighting where you can disable opponents, paralyze foes and even strike down enemies by "opening your heart."

The power of love smites thee!

     Yeah, and this is a guy who is taking peoples money and teaching them this useless style. If you want to learn to defend yourself, go someplace else, cause this guy doesn't know what he's doing.

     As for Christian-right news, a longstanding legal battle (23 year legal battle) that has determined the status of a large cross on public land has come to a head, and the cross must come down within ninety days. Likely some group will somehow file an injunction or an appeal, but the Mt. Soledad cross will finally be coming down. I say about time, seeing as this has been being fought over since I was five.

In Other News

     Creeping out of my casket to write now and again is becoming more of a chore than I had ever realized, though the rewarding feeling that pulses in my small black heart makes it all worthwhile. This post contains not a terrifying tale, but news of one.
     American Horror Story, Season two, is now available for stream on Netflix, adding a soon to be classic to my line-up of terrifying tales to watch.

This scene never happens in the series, sadly.

     In other news, Dark Moon Eclipse #29 is out for all you fright fans looking for a quick fix. Break out the kindles and bundle up tight folks, cause this ones a screamer!

     As for me dear readers, I'm settling in for the colder weather and scrawling out stories that amuse me. I have a few novels that need polishing and one that needs to be finished, so stick around and let the good times, and heads, roll!

     Sweet Dreams

Dirge, Part One

I sit on the crumbling stone wall, looking out over the bleak gray field, patches of dying weeds spring forth from the gravel here and there to mark spots of color on the otherwise drab expanse outside the village of Malm, Not too small and not too large, Malm had once been a trading post for the Kingdom as a whole… but then the mines precious veins of ore dried up, and the fields grew barren and rocky, and the merchants began to avoid Malm altogether on their trading routes.

And slowly, Malm began to die.

Moldering Jungle, Part One

The light rainfall misting down over Sarah’s head was almost a blessing considering how hot she was, but then again, what could she expect when traveling through the rain forests of Brazil? The entire region was awash in lush greenery and vibrant flora that ranged from seas of brilliant orange flowers to great bell curved bulbs of eye-stabbing yellow. Between the humidity and the rainfall, Sarah could see how the plant life could easily overtake anything sedentary that wasn’t maintained.

The Dark Life of Scott Winthrope, Part Two

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The Manor sat on a large lot of land that had once been used as a plantation, with the house sprawling out over the grounds in an effort to house the once large Winthrope clan. But over the years the Winthrope name had run down to a trickle, ending with Scott, who had few plans on finding a woman to settle down with an marry, let along pop out a few children. Reaching the sweeping set of stairs leading from the second floor to the first, Scott paused and admired the gothic scenery around him.

Child of the Apocalypse, Part Three

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Opening the medicine cabinet, I grab anything that looks remotely helpful, such as “-icillin” or “Pain-killer” into my side satchel, pausing to read the side effects of one bottle.

Horror Holidays

     With the jingling of bells and people speaking of Santa and his damnable list, I feel a certain spirit of the season in the air, and not one that I enjoy. Call me old fashioned, but I think we should go back to the original winter holiday that was celebrated in December.
     Saturnalia!
     

     

Roman-invented, of course!

     Call me crazy (and many people have) but I think the original holiday was fine on it's own. The holiday was a little over a week long, with debauched parties and drunken revelry and gambling; masters served slaves, celebrations poured out into the streets and private gift-giving was thoroughly encouraged. Like many things the Romans did, they didn't do their celebrating half-assed.

     Now we have but one humble day, with two months of prep time! I am already sick of Christmas songs and it's not even the 5th of the month! I get to listen to Bill O'Reilly rant about people attacking Christmas while non-Christians let loose a torrent of rage if a school does anything related to religion, on a religion centered holiday.

     Far be it for me to have a problem with this most auspicious of days, but I cannot stand the final day of Christmas where everyone is forced out onto icy roads to go and visit family. I would much rather stay in my warm little tomb and drink coffee, but that makes me a hermit. No, can't have that! Let's drag the poor bastard out of his house and force him to endure being around people for a day in the name of... wait, why are we doing this again?

     To all of you, I wish a happy Saturnalia and a fond holiday season, but I am done with this holiday. Not enough spook or scare in the stocking so hung with care, nor enough creak and shriek to make me note that day of the week. No more I say, from the top of my lungs, no more will I pay! Let this whole Christmas thing go far, far away!

The Dark Life of Scott Winthrope, Part One

Scott rolled from his side, coughing and hacking as he tried to clear his parched throat. Looking with a bloodshot eye blearily around the room, he heaved a sigh as he caught sight of a shapely thigh half draped over his lower half, connected to a bass guitarist whose name he couldn’t quite remember at the moment, as it felt like miners were trying to crack open his skull as if it were the second gold rush. Lifting her thigh from his midsection, he swung his own legs over the side of the bed and raised his body up to a half sitting position, fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand. Scratching his back as he slipped his glasses on, Scott looked around the room in disgust.

Jacques Masterpiece, Part Four

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An hour came and went, and with it the rise of a portrait of the couple was created. Jacques invited them over from where they’d been perched on the edge of the fountain, allowing them to see the rough portrait he’d created, the canvas still drying in the dying Parisian dusk.

Demonic Visions Two

     A running anthology put together by the skilled hands of Chris Robertson, this next segment includes a little tale of mine I like to call Mythic.

Art by Steven Wenta, who can really nail down a macabre image.

     If you liked the first one then you should love this one, as it has all of the same authors! Yup, we all get together once again to tell a tale of woe and despair, all for your convenience and joy.

     The eBook can be found here, and is available for Kindle right now, though we'll soon see it with Nook and paperback as well. I'll keep you all posted.