Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

MISS MURDER ATTEMPTS SHORT HORROR FICTION






BOBBING FINGERS

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It had all been planned out, down to the last detail. At least that was how she had imagined it, but truth to tell nothing had worked at all. She was supposed to leave early in the morning, but the sickness had her and with every step she took, a dizziness threatened to make her pass out on the floor. It wasn't until afternoon when she got the note, the gun, and put clothes on.

That wasn't as planned either - she had had an elaborate note of explanation, accusation, condemnation, and vilification planned but putting words to paper proved to be as impotent as she was and she ended up wadding the damned thing up and throwing it away. If they found it, let them try to read it - her handwriting was mostly indecipherable scribbling anymore anyway.

Putting on clothes for the first time in months (she lived in her pajamas), she discovered nothing fit anymore, and had to dig for the largest clothes she could find just to have something to wear. Her shoes didn't even fit anymore, so she kept her slippers on.

The gun was small but would do the job - the ammo the gun dealer had delivered to her with her new pistol was more than adequate. She had never fired this one before, but imagined it couldn't be too hard, especially since she planned to keep it steady with her teeth. All that was left was to walk to the river.

It was the perfect time of year. The recent rains had swollen the waters and the swift current would take her carcass far away, or at least she hoped. It was also past the tourist season, so the river wouldn't be clogged with people who had so much money they could afford to live in this small town for months and just play in the water. The last song that followed her there on her MP3 player seemed to echo over the whole world:

Back and forth, I sway with the wind
Resolution slips away again
Right through my fingers, back into my heart
Where it's out of reach and it's in the dark
Sometimes I think I'm blind
Or I may be just paralyzed
Because the plot thickens every day
And the pieces of my puzzle keep crumblin' away
But I know, there's a picture beneath
Indecision clouds my vision
No one listens...
Because I'm somewhere in between
My love and my agony
You see, I'm somewhere in between
My life is falling to pieces
Somebody put me together
Layin' face down on the ground
My fingers in my ears to block the sound
My eyes shut tight to avoid the sight
Anticipating the end, losing the will to fight
Droplets of "yes" and "no"
In an ocean of "maybe"
From the bottom, it looks like a steep incline
From the top, another downhill slope of mine
But I know, the equilibrium's there
Indecision clouds my vision
No one listens
Because I'm somewhere in between
My love and my agony
You see, I'm somewhere in between
My life is falling to pieces
Somebody put me together

- Falling To Pieces, Faith No More

She was alone and no one noticed her lumbering away as she traveled the path to the river. She was cold already - the winds blew hard here and made whitecaps on the waves. Once on the tiny bit of beach at the edge, she looked around first to confirm she was alone. Slowly she peeled her clothes off, putting them deep in the bushes where no one would look, hopefully for a few weeks at least.

One step into the water almost made her stop the whole thing right then and there. The frigid water sent shock waves from her toes all the way up the back of her neck...

She was only in just over her ankles when she heard the sharp report and felt a horrible pain in her right hand. The shock of the cold plus a spasm in her left hand had caused her to pull her finger on the trigger. She discovered she had shot off three fingers of her right hand. She plunged her hand into the water which was excruciating, then numbing. She didn't really care anyway.

The noise of the shot had been a lot louder than she had realized, however. Looking around to see if anyone was coming, she was relieved to see that the traffic of the nearby highway filled with people going on with actual lives to look forward to had made enough noise to drown out the sound.

She only made it waist deep before she realized she could go no further - the cold hurt worse than the remaining part of her hand. There was a sharp drop-off somewhere close, she was counting on that. The rock she had somehow managed to rope to her ankle wasn't large, but should be enough to keep her under water until the current grabbed her body and took it away. She had seen enough pictures of unsuccessful attempts of people who had only managed to mutilate themselves but lived to know if she screwed up the shot, at least she would drown.

The metal of the gun tasted awful, but she was past caring. The song in her ears ended as did her life as she pulled the trigger a second time.

She was unable to, but her three dismembered digits floated down the river and waved goodbye to the world for her.