Short story: “Haunted”

Short story: “Haunted”

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see her laying next to him in the bed, face down, with her long brunette hair splayed over her naked back and around her on the white bed sheets.

Her work alarm should have gone off before his.  Had she overslept?

Still eyeing her, senses spiked wide open by a hidden fear breaking to the surface, he realised he couldn’t see the rise and fall of her back.

Horror raked paranoid claws deep into his spine.

Now he held his own breath, the bedroom spinning away with the rest of the world as his sole focus was on the love of his life.

He reached out gently with his hand, the cold skin of her shoulder blade barely felt through panic so acute it was like being in the perfectly calm eye of the storm.

His world had fallen.

The million things he needed to do were overridden by this eternal moment, hand resting on death, the cold stillness petrifying him as he lay beside her body.

Shattered, but the pieces still together.  Scared to move, as movement would mean stepping forward, over the abyss into Hell.

Frozen.

She moved, barely perceptibly, and coughed gently…

He never did tell her of that morning – as if revealing it would recall the doom from which he had escaped.  His silence was his thank you.

But it haunted him every day.

Nasty Evil Ninja’s Halloween Blog

Nasty Evil Ninja’s Halloween Blog

You didn’t think I’d let this day pass without bitchslapping it around the back of the head, did you?  You DID?  Shame on you!

I used to like Halloween.  I still do, I guess… but all you fuckers are getting it all WRONG and ruining it!!!

It’s a pagan festival, where in England we all traditionally dress in masks with lanterns and go out and beat Priests and Vicars to death.

OK, so that might not be true, but either way it’s supposed to be scary and fun.

Did you hear that?  SCARY and fun.

Sure, take your kids around to old biddie’s houses and give them heart attacks, and throw a Halloween party, but what in the blue-arsed-baboon FUCK is all this about:

https://i2.wp.com/super-ways.com/images/Supergirl.jpg

This is your typical Halloween costume these days.  Stupid shit like fairies and Alice-in-fucking-Wonderland and ‘sexy pirates’… fuck what have ANY damned pirates got to do with Halloween???

Ghouls… Werewolves… ok I’ll give you vampires, and they can be sexy, but that’s supposed to be a BY-PRODUCT of the whole vampire thing!  Halloween shouldn’t be about sexy costumes and trying to get laid!  Is it any wonder our kids are all fucking each other from the age of ten with this shit being forced down our (deep) throats?

So we used to dress up as murderous non-sexy creatures and try to extort cash and sweets from people.  We never took our parents out with us!

https://i2.wp.com/deathensemble.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Michael-cleans-out-Haddonfields-trash.jpg

How the hell are The Big Kids supposed to go out ‘Ghost Busting’* when their parents are stood behind them the whole time?

And when Little Johnny’s string-vested just-out-of-prison Dad is stood glaring at you from the top of your path, you feel strangely inclined to give them lots of money and sweets and a can of Tennant’s Super rather than tell them to Sod Off and slam the door in their face.

Do they still say “TRICK OR TREAT” when you answer the door, or is it just a moody “Give.” these days?  And what’s the ‘trick’?

Getting stabbed by a bunch of 16 year old Chavs with their hoodies up to look like ghosts?

We’ll probably do the same as last year, and just egg any little bastards that come around from the upper windows of our house, all hopped up on Red Bull and the boiled sweets we’ve bought for ourselves.

Witches… Ghosts… Spiders… Girl Scouts???

http://x3a.xanga.com/eeff812553635271799271/z216782618.jpg

Give me a break!  It’s more like Fap-oween!

*Ghost Busting – when the Big Kids take the piss out of your costume, beat you up, and/or take all your money and sweets.  It was ‘fun’.

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Have spiders got some sort of collective vendetta against just me at the moment – or is it everyone?

There aren’t all that many in the rest of the house, but every time I look up in my bedroom, Mini-Spider Hit Squad is moving into position surrounding me!

OK, they’re hardly going to eat me in my sleep, but I can’t say I’m too excited at the prospect of eating THEM in MY sleep, either!

So 6 had to die yesterday, and 4 the day before that.  And this morning another bugger was there!

But I suspect these are just the advance party.

Bigger beasties are lurking in the doorways…

I came home last week to find a medium-sized spiddy sat in the middle of his web – naked, no less!!!  AND it was blocking off the entire front door to my home!

What the fuck did he think he was up to???

Luckily, I hadn’t taken my bike gloves off at the time, so a swift right cross let him know his name wasn’t down, and he wasn’t coming in.

I think after 3 days of that, he either ended up in Spider Infirmary, or my cunning change to a back-handed knuckle strike felled the arsehole arachnid.

But lo and behold, a Morning Spiddy appeared for attack, covering the door so when I stepped out to ready my bike, I’d be covered in web like in one of those old Tarzan movies!

Luckily the spider never managed to sink his fangs into me, as I always escaped before it had chance but this morning was close!

Spiky hair is a bastard for collecting webs, too!

Then, as I rode my bike up the driveway towards the road, elated to be escaping my home without being mummified and having my juices sucked from me (and not in the good way that women can do), they had one last-ditch attempt!

Right at the top of the driveway, to my horror I spotted another Tarzan-catcher web, cunningly using an overhanging Holly Tree to cover my escape route.

And Harry The Hairy Spider was home!

I tried moving as far to my right as I could, but the left mirror sliced through the bottom support strand of the web as I rode past.

This caused the whole Spider-Web combo to swing around in a huge arc, disappearing from my field of view around the side of my helmet.  Last known trajectory: the left side of the escaping biker.

Staring straight ahead lest I see hairy legs clinging to my visor, I opened the throttle and kept it open, ignoring the crawling/biting feelings on my poor exposed neck and from within my leathers.

If I’m lucky, the wee fucker is roadkill somewhere between my house and my workplace.

If I’m unlucky, he’ll be waiting for me back at home with a New Improved Web possibly promoted by Barry Scott of Cilit Bang fame.

If I’m REALLY unlucky, he’s to my left right now, hiding in the pile of leathers, waiting to jump on me when I next touch them, so that I scream like a girl and all the women in the office laugh at me

I -ing hate spiders!

My Little Ghosty, Skinny And Boney

My Little Ghosty, Skinny And Boney

I’ve seen ghosts for as long as I can remember.

I think it runs in my family – my Mum definitely has the ‘talent’, but I think I’ve got it even stronger. Maybe even more of a reason not to have kids!

But I have a regular ghost that I see fairly often.

Obviously, I’ve spoken to other mediums about it, and, even more often I’ve had other mediums tell me about it before I mention it.  Some tell me it’s my Spirit Guide.

I’m not entirely sure I believe in Spirit Guides, but I guess it would explain it.

What I see, is a shape out of the corner of my eye – almost like a shadow but more like… a person seen by the half-light of the moon. If I turn my head to look – it’s gone.

A few times, I’ve seen it much clearer – but still as a dark shape. I’d say without a doubt it’s male, and about my height, but other than that I can’t really make out much detail.

The clearer times that spring to mind when I’ve seen him were once stood in my hallway, and I saw him dart past the kitchen door so vividly that I thought it was a real person, and had to check! Another time I was in the graveyard with a few mates, and I looked towards the church to see him watching us from one corner.  He slunk slowly back out of sight after a few long seconds.

But the fleeting corner-of-the-eye visions are so frequent I don’t even bother mentioning them anymore!

I’m not scared when I’ve seen him. I don’t really feel anything.

If he is my Spirit Guide, then if he’s doing his duty then I’m protected by him!  A few mediums have said that there’s a man who rides on the back of my bike with me keeping me safe. I have been very lucky on several occasions, so maybe there’s something in it!

The name that keeps cropping up from others is someone Roberts, or possibly Robert someone. And he was possibly in the navy around the 1930s. Read into that what you will.  I just know what I see.

Occasionally I’ll see a ghost regularly for a period of time – then won’t see it again. This one did freak me out:

When we used to keep horses, I’d go to the stables after school or college to help out. From my house, I’d have to walk through the graveyard, and then down this tiny old path to get to the stables.

At the top of this path was a ‘Kissing Gate’ – one that you have to open, step to the side of it, then close it so you can step past it. I honestly can’t remember if it was dusk or broad daylight when all this happened…

I’d walk through this gate, which would close behind me with a metallic sound. But every night for 2 weeks, I’d get about 20 or 30 yards down this path, and then hear the gate close behind me again. It was strange – the wind couldn’t move the gate – it was a sound that was only made when someone opened it and let it swing closed again. I’d turn around, but nobody would be there – so I’d carry on.

On the last night, I heard it yet again, and turned around…. And saw a little girl stood in the middle of the path.

She was a bit pasty-looking, but solid enough – long thick dirty-white dress to her ankles, long hair tied back in a ponytail – in short, she looked like some fucking 10 year old kid from a black and white photograph.

She wasn’t exactly looking at me – more just through me, as if I wasn’t there. Nothing REALLY scary about her… except…

I’ve seen so many films and read stories about ghosts, that it’s these that freaked me out.

You know the type where they hear a noise, so they look behind them and see something in the distance, then as they turn back the way they were headed, it’s

THERE!!!!!!

RARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

RIGHT IN THEIR FUCKING FACE TWO INCHES AWAY SCREAMING AND SLOBBERING WITH BIG POINTY TEETH AND LETHAL TALONS!!!!!!!!!

RARRRRRR!!!!!!!!!

So I was edging down the path backwards, terrified to turn around because of a few fucking movies and books. Eventually I got my head back together and turned the fk away.

Of course, when I looked back once more – she’d gone.

I think I may have even seen her twice.

I’ve since heard my mates re-telling this story, and in traditional style, she’s morphed into to scary little Freddy Krueger type girl, singing nursery rhymes and skipping with a rope. Nice – but what you read here is the original, straight from the horses (helpers) mouth!

I think this little story is why ‘The Others’ freaks me out so much, because of the similarity to parts of the film…

And don’t worry – there’s plenty of really scary ghost stories yet to come!!!!

Come On Then, You Hairy-Legged Bastards!!!

Come On Then, You Hairy-Legged Bastards!!!

This blog was originally posted in August 2007 on another site.  I’m re-posting it as there seems to be another plague of these huge spiders – except I haven’t seen a single one in my house so far!  You’ll have to excuse the crap camera phone pics:

Old Mr Spooky-Giblets has done it again!

A year ago, when I posted about the Plague Of Daddy Long Legs in the UK, I predicted this would happen!

Now, here is what I was greeted with as I was heading to bed last night:

That’s a spiddy that you wouldn’t get a pint glass over without seriously ‘remodeling’ the length of his legs.

As if they were planning some sort of peaceful -ing poker game or something, as I looked towards the other walls I saw this:

And this:

Ooh yes – the pics don’t show them in their full hairy-assed badness, but these are all the same size as Mr T’s head.

So I shot them with an airpistol.  Fuck them.

Ok, so I shot two of them.  The first one, I took out a trusty Tonfa stick, and after two attempts to mash me some arachnid brains, his Ninja skills proved more than my own, and, dropping to the floor, he galloped off under the telephone table.  By the time I’d got downstairs, he was nowhere to be seen.  Keep an eye on the next Grand National, because that thing needed a damn saddle on, and I’d happily whip it before it left the enclosure!  Either way it’d be a winner!

As all modern Ninja should have some firearms skill, I took no chances with the other two.

And they weren’t alone!

I’ve killed another three equally well-bred beasties in my house in the previous two nights!

I mean, you don’t often see a Bastard of spiders (that’s the collective name for a group of them) this size!  They don’t get on!  One of those fkrs patrolling the halls like the school bully who got made a Prefect is more than enough in one household.

Even scarier, they don’t get that big overnight – so where the hell were they all hiding???

I don’t know how long spiders live, but I’d bet any money that these are all at least a year old and the product of those dopey bastard Daddy Long Legs that we got millions of last Summer!

Well done to them!

*claps sarcastically*

UPDATE!!!

As I was posting this blog, I saw what I believe to be Gallopy on the sofa opposite me!  This time I tomped him with the TV Guide (two hits), and put the carcass on a box of Silk Cut to give a size reference!  Bear in mind his legs aren’t what they were in his running days, and stretched out they were at least twice what you see here:

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Spiders, Spiders Everywhere! Plus My Brush With Death!!!

Have spiders got some sort of collective vendetta against just me at the moment – or is it everyone?

There aren’t all that many in the rest of the house, but every time I look up in my bedroom, Mini-Spider Hit Squad is moving into position surrounding me!

OK, they’re hardly going to eat me in my sleep, but I can’t say I’m too excited at the prospect of eating THEM in MY sleep, either!

So 6 had to die yesterday, and 4 the day before that.  And this morning another bugger was there!

But I suspect these are just the advance party.

Bigger beasties are lurking in the doorways…

I came home last week to find a medium-sized spiddy sat in the middle of his web – naked, no less!!!  AND it was blocking off the entire front door to my home!

What the fuck did he think he was up to???

Luckily, I hadn’t taken my bike gloves off at the time, so a swift right cross let him know his name wasn’t down, and he wasn’t coming in.

I think after 3 days of that, he either ended up in Spider Infirmary, or my cunning change to a back-handed knuckle strike felled the arsehole arachnid.

But lo and behold, a Morning Spiddy appeared for attack, covering the door so when I stepped out to ready my bike, I’d be covered in web like in one of those old Tarzan movies!

Luckily the spider never managed to sink his fangs into me, as I always escaped before it had chance but this morning was close!

Spiky hair is a bastard for collecting webs, too!

Then, as I rode my bike up the driveway towards the road, elated to be escaping my home without being mummified and having my juices sucked from me (and not in the good way that women can do), they had one last-ditch attempt!

Right at the top of the driveway, to my horror I spotted another Tarzan-catcher web, cunningly using an overhanging Holly Tree to cover my escape route.

And Harry The Hairy Spider was home!

I tried moving as far to my right as I could, but the left mirror sliced through the bottom support strand of the web as I rode past.

This caused the whole Spider-Web combo to swing around in a huge arc, disappearing from my field of view around the side of my helmet.  Last known trajectory: the left side of the escaping biker.

Staring straight ahead lest I see hairy legs clinging to my visor, I opened the throttle and kept it open, ignoring the crawling/biting feelings on my poor exposed neck and from within my leathers.

If I’m lucky, the wee fucker is roadkill somewhere between my house and my workplace.

If I’m unlucky, he’ll be waiting for me back at home with a New Improved Web possibly promoted by Barry Scott of Cilit Bang fame.

If I’m REALLY unlucky, he’s to my left right now, hiding in the pile of leathers, waiting to jump on me when I next touch them, so that I scream like a girl and all the women in the office laugh at me

I -ing hate spiders!