Note Found In The Kiddie Land Truck

Note Found In The Kiddie Land Truck
Copyright 2017 by E.C. McMullen Jr.

During certain times of the year, as the babies are ready to molt, I go out to the porch and sit at my table.

If I sit very still and I’m patient – quite patient – the babies will come by their thousands and blanket me with their cocoons, their sleep nests.

There is an odor, a chemical released perhaps, whatever, and I slip into their dreams. As night grows deeper all around us, and we are safe from all predators (they find the odor of the strands repugnant), the Snufflelago comes.

Snuffie exists in the reality between Conscious and Unconscious: The Subconscious. Snufflelago channels our dream state from this reality to other wonderful worlds beyond where suffering and hunger are unheard of.

Can you imagine what it’s like to ride in the soft fur on the back of the Snufflelago? As it takes you to your new homes?

The stars fly past you, laughing at the sight!

Imagine for a moment how fun that is!

There in our true home, I discovered that we were born on the worst of worlds where we were not meant to stay. Like the babies, we too were meant to molt, be reborn, and fly forth to new and better destinies in new and better bodies.

This is what the grown-ups mean when they say you must be born again. Sadly though, they waited too long. They knew what to do, and what to say, but they didn’t how to do it. They missed their chance.

So they grow old, weak, and decrepit. They are rotting inside and out, and fearing the very thing that could save them: The babies. Instead they stay trapped in their aging crumbling shells. Their hair falls out, their teeth rot out, their skin cracks and folds, and still they hold on to this world and their infancy. They use up all that is left of their dimming life until it puffs out like a candle flame. A moment’s smoke of what could have been.

Caterpillars would never die of old age. Think of how silly that is.

That’s why I couldn’t forget you. I couldn’t stay there among the wonders, enjoying the beauty of such places, knowing the agonies of this awful world. I felt selfish to such a degree that it hindered my joy. Perhaps I’m flawed that way, but that’s who I am. We all have our own special thing that drives us.

So I struggled so very hard to come back. Which is not easy at all. But I came back for you. To save, protect you, and guide you to the Snufflelago, who will take you to the wonders of the Otherworlds.

There are so many there waiting to be your friends.

I don’t know it for a fact, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you find family and loved ones that you lost, are actually living there as well, waiting for you. Yes, even your pets. I’ve seen it happen before.

So lay very still children and I will spread the babies upon you. They will make such lovely cocoons to protect and keep you safe and, by the time the babies are ready to hatch and feed, which is many weeks from now, you will be long gone from the empty shells – just shells – of your bodies, far from the torment of this world.

The babies will mature and sever the bridge to your shells, so none can ever steal you back. You will never have to grow up and old. You’ll be free and happy forever, and all that you ever were or could ever be in this place will take flight!
– the doctrine of Ardulos Metalowe.
From the note found in the abandoned Kiddie Land truck.

FBI Case File 07-02-8
FBI Serial Murder Method Profile: Pied Piper
Case Name: KIDDIE LAND

END

Story by E.C. McMullen Jr.

The Art Inspires The Story
The Haunted and The Haunters by Odilon Redon (aka Bertrand-Jean Redon – April 20, 1840 – July 6, 1916), illustration for the book “The Haunted and the Haunters: Or the House and the Brain” By Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1896 lithograph. Public Domain

Thanks to John Claude Smith for finding the inspirational photo.

---

You know what you’ll find in
PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection?
It’s a veritable trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller tales – plus bonus stories
Featuring: Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free!

Want more? Buy WILLOW BLUE. It’s my second collection of critically acclaimed Supernatural and Drama Thriller short stories with all of the Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem, you’ve come to expect (or should by now). Available in paperback for $8.00 or in Kindle for only $1.99. Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free! The tales will last you longer than latte!

Crave even more?

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself, as well as  John Carpenter, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, also the late  Ray Bradbury, Wes Craven, plus many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

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So Scary

SO SCARY
Copyright 2017 by E.C. McMullen Jr.

Death: “RON? ALL RIGHT, SERIOUSLY RON, YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME, AND I THINK I SPEAK FOR DEATH WHEN I SAY THIS-”

Death: “WE REALLY SHOULD HAVE A BETTER WAY OF IDENTIFYING OURSELVES.”

Death: “I DON’T SEE WHY. I CAN’T EVER REMEMBER BEING IN THIS SITUATION BEFORE.”

Ron: “It would help me.”

Death: “OH HOW CAN IT POSSIBLY HELP YOU? I MEAN, LOOK AT YOU, YOU HAVE DEATH AT EVERY SHOULDER AND WE’RE NOT EVEN THE ONES YOU’RE AFRAID OF.”

Death: “I’M SLOW AND PAINFUL. TO YOUR RIGHT IS QUICK AND PAINLESS.”

Ron: “I’ll take quick and painless.”

Death: “IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY.”

Death: “RON, CONSIDER THE FACT THAT THE PRESENCE OF ACTUAL PHYSICAL DEATH AT YOUR SHOULDER IS NOT SCARING YOU AS MUCH AS INTRODUCING YOURSELF TO THAT WOMAN. HONESTLY, I MET YOUR PARENTS. THEY WEREN’T THAT BAD. THIS IS ALL YOUR INVENTION, IN YOUR HEAD.”

Ron: “What if she doesn’t like me? I’ve always been awkward around girls- Women I mean.  I mean, aw hell.”

Death: “RON, YOU’RE THE LAST MAN ON EARTH. SHE’S THE LAST WOMAN. THINK MAN! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO TO MAKE MATTERS ANY WORSE?”

Death: “BESIDES NOT GOING OVER THERE AND INTRODUCING YOURSELF.”

Ron: “I don’t know, guys. Maybe I need to think of a good opening line. One I can practice.”

Death: “DAMN IT, RON. THIS ISN’T WHAT DEATH DOES.”

Death: “WE’RE IN THE BACKGROUND. NEVER SEEN. WE AREN’T MATCH MAKERS.”

Death: “BUT WITHOUT LIFE THERE IS NO DEATH.”

Death: “YOU MUST PROCREATE.”

Ron: “What’s the point? So our kids will raise a family of inbreds?”

Death: “THAT’S REALLY NEITHER HERE NOR THERE TO US, RON.”

Death: “OH HO! THERE’LL BE SOME FREAKS AT FIRST, TO BE SURE. BUT AFTER A FEW GENERATIONS, IT ALL KIND OF SHAKES OUT.”

Death: “MOSTLY SHAKES OUT. THERE’S ALWAYS A FEW GENETIC ‘PROBLEM CHILD’ ABNORMALITIES THAT POP UP IN THE MIX.”

Death: “YEAH, YOU’LL STILL HAVE POLITICIANS.”

Death: “KHEEE!!! HEH! HEH! YOU KILL ME!”

Death: “HEH! HEH!”

Death: “BUT SERIOUSLY: WE DON’T CARE HOW SMART OR SICKLY HUMANS ARE.”

Death: “WE DON’T JUDGE.”

Death: “AND SINCE YOU’RE THE ONLY MAN STILL ALIVE, NEITHER WILL SHE. YOU PRETTY MUCH CAN’T GO WRONG.”

Death: “WELL, EXCEPT FOR THAT TIE. UGH! THAT TIE!”

Death: “YOU JUST TOLD HIM WE DON’T JUDGE.”

Death: “… AH… I’M COMPLEX.”

Ron: “Yaaaahhh!!!”

Death: “HEY! SHH! SHUT UP!!!”

Ron: “You’re both driving me crazy!”

Death: “SHE HEARD YOU, YOU FREAK! YOU WANT HER TO THINK THE LAST MAN IS SOME RAVING MANIAC?”

Ron: “This is delusion! I’m not talking to death or deaths! I’m losing my mind! You’re not real! None of this is-!”

Slow And Painful Death suddenly pushes Ron’s head into the wall.

Ron: “OW! Shit!”

Death: “THERE. THAT WILL EXPLAIN YOUR NOISE. TELL HER THE BUMP IS BECAUSE YOU HURT YOUR HEAD.”

Ron: “You Did  hurt my head! Damn! I’m bleeding.”

Death: “NO, ‘YOU HURT YOUR HEAD’. NOW GET OVER THERE AND MAKE WITH THE SMOOTH TALK.”

Death to the Left pushes Ron out into the light. The woman sees him stumble toward her.

Death: “GOOD THINKING. REASON DIDN’T WORK WITH THAT GUY.”

Death: “BULL BY THE HORNS AND ALL. WELL, THAT’S THAT. THE DOMINOES ARE FALLING AS THEY USED TO SAY.”

Ron (to woman): “Uh, hi, m’am.”

Woman: “M’am? Tch! The name is Tracy. Do you know you’re bleeding? Quite a bump.”

Ron wipes some of the blood away with his palm. Looks at his bloody hand and wipes it on his pants. Tracy watches all of this, judging.

Ron: “Yes, uh… I bumped my head.”

Tracy: “Obviously.”

Ron: “I… I’m Ron.”

Tracy (sarcastically): “I asked?”

Unsure, Ron looks back to the two deaths in the shadows. They throw up their bony arms in disbelief.

Death (whispering): “Oh! Don’t Draw Attention To Us, You Ass!”

Tracy: “What are you looking at? You have friends back there?”

Ron: “What? Oh no. No. I’m the last man on earth.”

Tracy pulls a cigarette out of her purse. Ron fumbles in his pockets, looking for matches or a lighter, though he knows he has neither. Tracy wags a finger at him, a lighter in her palm, and deftly lights her cigarette.

Tracy: “Last man on earth, huh? God must hate me.”

Slow on the uptake, Ron chooses to laugh, cautiously. The two Deaths, standing in the dark, cannot believe what they’re hearing.

Tracy: “So tell me, am I the last woman on earth?”

Ron: “Yes. We’re the only ones left.”

Tracy: “Uh huh. And just how do you know this?”

Ron: “Death told me.”

The cigarette nearly drops from Tracy’s mouth. The two deaths face palm.

Death: “Oh For The Love Of -!”
Death: “Can You Believe This?”

Tracy takes the cigarette from her mouth, swats away an errant bug attracted to the flame.

Tracy: “Death told you.”

Ron: “Both of them.”

Tracy: “Really. Well, I’ll tell you what.”

Tracy draws a pistol from her purse.

Tracy: “You scurry right back over there to your shadows and I’ll leave you to this filthy dump. I catch you following me and I’ll pop one of these lead berries right into that bleeding bubble on your bean. Got that?”

Ron nods nervously, backing up and staring in terror at the gun barrel.

Death: “WELL, WE HAD A GOOD RUN. AT LEAST WE’RE STILL THE DEATH OF THE LOWER LIFE FORMS.”

Death: “THOSE TWO ARE THE LOWEST LIFE FORMS. CAN WE BREAK WITH TRADITION FOR ONCE AND JUST PUT THEM OUT OF THEIR MISERY? NOW?”

Death: “ONLY IF I GET RON.”

Death: “Damn! UH… ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS?”

Death: “YEAH, SURE.”

END

Story by E.C. McMullen Jr.

Who did my blog art? I’ve no idea. All the meme generators seem to carry it, but even if it’s in the Public Domain, I’d at least like to credit the artist. Does anyone know?

---

Make sure you have plenty to read for the end of the world. Buy my book,
WILLOW BLUE.
It’s my second collection of critically acclaimed Supernatural and Drama Thriller short stories with all of the Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem, you’ve come to expect (or should by now). Available in paperback for $8.00 or in Kindle for only $1.99. Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free! The tales will last you longer than latte!

Apocalypse not coming soon enough to suit you? Stock up then.

PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection.
It’s a veritable trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller tales – plus bonus stories
Featuring: Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free!

Fill that shelf space

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Record the event for future colonists from other worlds!

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself, as well as  John Carpenter, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, also the late  Ray Bradbury, Wes Craven, plus many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

The Staring Woman

I didn’t write this meme, I found the image at one of my Facebook Horror groups (WeirdCreepyShit). Additionally, I found what appears to be the original version at CreepyPasta.Wiki. As far as I can tell, it’s an Urban Legend.

Few gave much love to the CreepyPasta.Wiki version.

When I added a “final” paragraph at Facebook WeirdCreepyShit and my own Facebook page, that got lots of love, so I’m posting the image and my paragraph after.

The girl looked in horror at the now empty subway tube, then turned back to the doctor in shock.
“Oh my God!” she whispered. “How could you tell without checking her pulse?”
The man withdrew a long and shining blade from out of his raincoat.
“It’s my specialty.”

END

A Google image search shows Subway image appears to originate as a free image offered on hdwall.us.

Can anyone help me find the name of the artist?

---

Best thing to read on a train? My book,
WILLOW BLUE.
It’s my second collection of critically acclaimed Supernatural and Drama Thriller short stories with all of the Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem, you’ve come to expect (or should by now). Available in paperback for $8.00 or in Kindle for only $1.99. Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free! The tales will last you longer than latte!

Long ride? Buy

PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection.
It’s a veritable trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller tales – plus bonus stories
Featuring: Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free!

Daily commute?

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself, as well as  John Carpenter, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, also the late  Ray Bradbury, Wes Craven, plus many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

Because You Create

So there’s this new anthology accepting submissions and their theme and your idea match.

So now you’re all inspired! The words are flowing and you’re suddenly the Mozart of your keyboard. You zoom right past the 4,000 minimum, no problem. Soon you realize you’ve crossed the 8,000 word max, but you’re really feeling this damn story! Finally you wind up writing 14,582 words. You read it. It’s beautiful! A few edits here and there and you’ve nicely trimmed it down to exactly 14,000 words.

The hell? Nobody ever wants 14,000 words. Yet there’s no way you can cut the story to 8,000 without ruining it!

Deep breath

Okay, okay, you still have a week left. You work to think of something else and you struggle, struggle – no that story sucks. Don’t waste time with it. Start another. Struggle, struggle, struggle to write another story for the antho. You’re almost there. You push it to 4,000 words on the … no. No, you’re not going to submit it like this, you need to edit this shit. Look here where you used the word “this” twice in one sentence! Gah! You pull an all nighter and wind up with 3,200 words.

Damn it!

You go to Facebook to clear your head.
Some asshole in a group brags about getting books off torrents because “The information wants to be free!”

Right then! At that moment! As you click on and crawl through their page, you know that even though you’ve never wanted to own a gun, you could likely pawn your lawnmower for one.

END

Story by E.C. McMullen Jr.

Who did my blog art? I’ve no idea. All the meme generators seem to carry it, but even if it’s in the Public Domain, I’d at least like to credit the artist. Does anyone know?

---

The information wants to support its creator.
PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection
Is a trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller – plus bonus stories
Featuring: True Love, Weird Sex, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback from Amazon and get the kindle free!

Looking to burn a whole $20 and maybe buy a doughnut?

Look for my second collection, WILLOW BLUE and Other Stories
Five critically acclaimed tales featuring my literary twist on Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem! $8.00 for the paperback, $1.99 for the kindle reader or app. As always, buy the paperback from Amazon and get the kindle free!

Then go buy a doughnut.

Got a gift card to empty?

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself as well as Ray Bradbury, John Carpenter, Wes Craven, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, and many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

Waiting Is The Hardest Part

WAITING IS THE HARDEST PART
by E.C. McMullen Jr.

Myrna was old enough to remember how extraordinarily quick old film cameras were, ‘Well, at least compared to modern digital cameras.’

‘With film it was all Point and Shoot,’ she thought, ‘If I’m not mistaken, there was actually a model line of old film cameras call Point & Shoot or Point & Click.’

‘Film was only time consuming when you wanted to do something artsy.’

The Portrait Photographer looked to his laptop, then to his camera, to the meter board for his lights, and back to his laptop.

Something “whirred”. Something beeped a three second melodious interlude. None of it put the photographer at ease and Myrna’s nocturnal pets were getting fidgety.

‘It’s not in their nature to stay still in bright light for so long.’

“Okay!” he announced as if everything was finally underway. “I’ve installed all of the latest drivers.”

‘Which means things are far from underway.’

“Now,” he continued as, one by one he finger shot his equipment, “I just need to disconnect the camera from the monitor, lights, laptop, and board, reboot everything individually, and then I can reconnect.”

Her pet, Tesla, crawled into the shadow behind her ear. Tama was slithering into Myrna’s expensively coiffed hair. Jilly was trying to coil beneath her palm. Myrna silently ticked off all of the time, scheduling, money, and trouble she went through to get today’s portrait.

At the 40 minute mark, the photographer said for the umpteenth time, “Just a few more seconds,” adding, “Could you please re-arrange your pets one more time?”

‘As if my pets are the problem.’

Gently she cupped and cradled them, moving them back into position, back in the light where they did not want to be. They were all getting crabby except for Weeters her crab, who simply drew his eyes and legs shut into his body and went to sleep.

The photographer bowed to his equipment. A stray whisper leaked out of his lungs “come on, come on, come on. goddamn it, what now?”

Under those cold LED lights, Myrna could feel herself growing old.

END

Story Copyright 2017 by E.C. McMullen Jr.

The Art Inspires The Story
Art, The Pale Thing, by William Basso

---

Don’t wait another minute! Buy my book,
WILLOW BLUE.
It’s my second collection of critically acclaimed Supernatural and Drama Thriller short stories with all of the Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem, you’ve come to expect (or should by now). Available in paperback for $8.00 or in Kindle for only $1.99. Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free! The tales will last you longer than latte!

Want more? Buy

PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection.
It’s a veritable trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller tales – plus bonus stories
Featuring: Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback at Amazon and the Kindle eBook is free!

Crave still more?

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself, as well as  John Carpenter, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, also the late  Ray Bradbury, Wes Craven, plus many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

A New Man

A NEW MAN
by E.C. McMullen Jr.
Copyright 2017

Gumoc nodded. At 43 he was old enough to know of the catches and fine print with any transaction.

“What’s the total cost of the deal?”

The saleswoman began itemizing. “Well, with the three weeks of induced coma, round the clock care -”

“I asked for the total cost,” Gumoc repeated.

“You’re looking at $150,000 complete out of pocket.”

Gumoc held the skull up to the light. He held it with both hands, nearly caressing it. For a moment in the world there was only Gumoc and this skull. He’d admired this head for months. This was the skull that Gumoc felt best represented his mind, his character, his essence. Finally his brain, his eyes, everything he was would be within this skull.

Okay, not this skull, it was just a Showroom model, but this design, grown especially for him and free from the bone disease closing his throat, pushing out of his face and into his brain.

He would kill to be free of the pain. ‘I have killed to raise the money for the operation and will kill again if I have to.’

‘Well,’ Gumoc amended to himself. ‘Within reason.’

Gumoc felt guiltless in committing murder as his victims were as vicious as he, only without his moral code, his personal empathy. Gumoc drew lines he would not cross. His two victims had no such barriers.

They brutalized people for money but also because they enjoyed the suffering of others. Gumoc killed only for the money to preserve his life and cure his agony.

He turned the skull around in his hands, getting to know what would soon be a part of him.

The saleswoman stayed silent, as this was part of the sale, allowing the customer to sell themselves on the product.

Gumoc stole money from only two well-heeled criminals, but such people have their walls of security and Gumoc was required to murder 14 to rob two.

With so much death, Gumoc, in his single minded zeal, came to enjoy murdering people. Death after death, there grew a sense of accomplishment and pride in the work ethic of it all. This enjoyment was tempered with a casual sense of justice: these were brutal thugs who harmed innocent people. They were the only two truly bad people he knew, though the city must be full of them.

‘No, wait,’ Gumoc thought. He set the skull on the saleswoman’s desk.

She looked up to him ready to finalize the deal, only to see that Gumoc’s expression was unreadable.

‘I don’t enjoy murder.’ Gumoc told himself. ‘It’s the disease talking. The bone squeezing my brain like a sponge, crushing me into cruelty.’

A part of him didn’t want this skull anymore. It no longer represented his true nature.

Gumoc scanned the other skulls in the case behind the Saleswoman. He looked for something, something… tougher. Hard set. Something to match the face reflected in the glass.

‘No,’ he self-corrected again. ‘That face is not mine. That face is the disease.’

The bone of his thickening skull was fractioning his personality, making him work against his better judgement.

“I’ll take it!” Gumoc nearly shouted. The saleswoman nearly jumped. “How soon can we begin?” he asked.

“If you sign today we can set the surgery for two weeks from now on the…” she double checked her calendar. “18th.”

Gumoc pounded his fist on her desk. “No! It must be sooner!” He was a human being, damn it. Not a cog, not a piece of equipment to be fitted in at the “right time”.

The saleswoman was clearly taken aback. “It can’t be any sooner,” she protested. “You’ve only now made your choice. We have to take your tissue sample to grow your DNA for your new skull. Even with accelerated growth you can only push human biology so far.”

Gumoc, breathing heavily, worked to calm himself.

“Of course,” he said. ‘Of course,’ he repeated in thought. ‘What the saleswoman said made sense. Perfect sense. All the sense in the world but, holy shit! Two more weeks!’

His emotions were all over the place and he rested his gnarled hands upon his knees to contain himself. He wanted to curl up right there on the salesroom floor and cry. He wanted to cry because a frightening ugliness was growing in his head. An anti-Gumoc ugliness that was becoming him. This Gumoc that once stood in the shadows was confidently stepping into the light. It mockingly looked upon Gumoc’s sense of self, his personal code of honor, with smirking disdain.

This new Gumoc, emboldened by so much murder, didn’t draw the line between the innocent and the guilty. Such matters were arbitrary facades to him.

Where old Gumoc was a massive but gentle giant of a man, this new Gumoc reveled in his power over others. He noted the effect that slamming his fist on the desk had on the Saleswoman. He saw how she went from fixating on her sale and commission to shrinking back in her chair and just wanting him out of there. He made her remember that she was a small frightened animal of the woods, hiding in silence, and he was the bear approaching.

This Gumock fantasized about holding the saleswoman’s neck in his powerful right hand. Enjoying her helpless terror, her delightfully agonized awareness of her approaching death, as he slowly dug his thumb into her throat until he pinched her head like a mushroom cap right off of her body.

Real Gumoc virtually punched the anti-Gumoc back into waiting in the shadows. He forced away the hungry smile curling upon his deformed features. Steadying his hand he signed the paperwork.

‘Two more weeks. My God! Two more weeks!’

– E.C. McMullen Jr.

Inspired by the Jusepe de Ribera painting, Man With Skull

---

Make a new start with my book
PERPETUAL BULLET: A Science Fiction Collection
It’s a trove of previously published Science Fiction Horror Thriller – plus bonus stories
Featuring: True Love, Weird Sex, Monsters and Mayhem!
Now on sale for $9.00 in Trade Paperback and in eBook for $1.99 and available for your Android Tablet, iPad, Kindle, Nook, and every other “E”!
Find it at (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, !ndigo, iTunes, KoboBooks, Smashwords, WHSmith, and more).
Buy the paperback from Amazon and get the kindle free!

Burning for more?

Look for my second collection, WILLOW BLUE and Other Stories
Five critically acclaimed tales featuring my literary twist on Weird Sex, True Love, Monsters and Mayhem! $8.00 for the paperback, $1.99 for the kindle reader or app. As always, buy the paperback from Amazon and get the kindle free!

Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.

Also available from Crystal Lake Publishing, the film making guidebook, HORROR 201: The Silver Scream. Reap the rewards of movie making experience from the likes of Myself as well as Ray Bradbury, John Carpenter, Wes Craven, Tom Holland, Jeffrey Reddick, George A. Romero, Keith Arem, Richard Gray, and many more. $19.99 in Print or $3.99 in eBook.

Not My Last Brush With Death

Me: “Embrace me sweet death – but first, try a bite of this delicious Bacon Bomb meatloaf!”
DEATH: ‘YOU KNOW I DON’T HAVE A TONGUE.”
Me: “But you talk like-”
DEATH: “I HAVE NO FLESH AT ALL.”
Me: “But you talk like a person with lungs, vocal cords, the whole nine yards.”
DEATH: “DO YOU SEE A TONGUE IN THIS MOUTH? DO YOU?”
Me: “No, but- wait. Then how do you see?”
DEATH: “THROAT? STOMACH? ANYTHING?”
Me: Well no, but how… I mean-”
DEATH: “NO NOSE! I CAN’T EVEN SMELL WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT. SO HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TASTE IT?”
Me: “I’m sorry. But I thought-”
DEATH: “YOU THOUGHT? YOU THOUGHT YOU’D OFFER SOMEONE WITHOUT A NOSE OR TONGUE A TASTE OF SOMETHING?”
Me: “Really, I’m sorry.”
DEATH: “YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU KNOW THAT? A REAL BENIGHTED JERK!”
Me: “Sorry.”
DEATH: “YOUR VERY PRESENCE REVILES ME! I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO TAKE YOUR LIFE. I’M GOING TO LET YOU LIVE AND SUFFER. AND I HOPE YOU’RE SUFFERING THROUGH SOMETHING REALLY PAINFUL RIGHT NOW!”
Me: (sotto voce): “…just this conversation…”
DEATH: “WHAT?!?”
Me: “Nothing.”

Image from Amarillo Globe-News
February 17, 2014 at 9:12am
Submitted by Delonda Dunn

Bacon Bomb: a bacon weave wrapped around a mixture of sausage, cream cheese, jalapeños & cheddar cheese.

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