Alone

  
  
    I reach out but no one is there ,

 I cry but no one hears ,

 I ask why but no one listens ,

 there is an emptiness in me like a deep and endless void ,

 I stand upon it's edge about to fall ,

 I long to embrace it ,

 to let myself go.

Dreams Of Death

  
   Rotting corpses ,

deathly screams ,

demented voices in my dreams ,

I hear them nightly ,

what do they mean?

Am I insane?

Or am I dead?

In hellfire flame ,

my soul be fed.

Dance Of Death

In darkness I lie ,

things crawl on my skin ,

I hear the sound of my breath ,

when will it begin?

the Dance of my Death.

The Night She Came Back , part 2

  
    I slept poorly that night , lying awake for hours , tossing and turning. Near dawn , I finally fell asleep. I had a very disturbing dream : the doorbell rang. When I opened it , a figure stood on the porch , wearing a shawl over it's head , concealing it's face. I knew it was my mother.

   "Richard ," she whispered. When she pulled back the shawl , her face had been crawling with maggots.

   I jerked awake. I could still see them swarming and squirming in the hole where her face had been.

   It was 9:38. The phone rang. It was uncle Leo.
  "Richard , it's me. I've got your money. I'll be there in about two hours. I've got some errands to run first."
   "I don't know if I can do this."
   I told him about the dream.
  "It doesn't mean anything. It was just a dream."
  "What if it wasn't just a dream? What if it was a premonition?"
  "Stop worrying about it , Richard. Everything will be fine. You'll see."
  I took a shower. The memory of all those maggots was disturbing. I felt an urge to wash until my skin was raw. After breakfast , I took a long walk around the city streets. I enjoyed walking. It always helped me unwind after a restless night.
   The streets were wet. A heavy summer storm had passed through during the early morning hours. The skies were cloudless and blue.I had no desire to return to the apartment yet. It was too depressing. I wanted to stay outside and enjoy the fresh , cool air. I wanted to pretend that the last few weeks had never happened. For almost an hour , I sat on a park bench and watched the traffic , and people passing by , before heading back to the apartment.
   While waiting for uncle Leo , I fell asleep in front of the television. I had the same dream again , only this time , instead of her face being covered in maggots , they swarmed over her entire corpse. There was a ragged hole where her face had been , and a half eaten , black tongue protruded from it.
   "Richard ," she said again. Her voice sounded as if it had come from deep under water.
    I came awake with a start , a scream locked in my throat. The door bell chimed. It was uncle Leo. He was late ; it was almost noon.
   "I'm sorry I'm late ," he said. "My errands took longer than I anticipated."
   He handed me a thick , white envelope. "Here's the money. And by the way , you don't have to pay me back. Consider it a gift."
   I took the envelope and put it away. "I don't know how to thank you , uncle Leo."
   "No need to." He sat down on the sofa. "Is that coffee I smell?"
   "I'll get you a cup."
   "I'll have to drink it fast. Can't stay long."
   I hoped he would stay long enough to tell me what he was hiding. I brought him his coffee in my mother's favorite mug. It had , World's Greatest Mom , stenciled on the side of it. I had given it to her for her thirty ~ fifth birthday. It had been one of the best days of my life. I was eleven years old , my parents were still a few years from divorce , and everyone was happy.
   I didn't want any coffee myself. I'd had a hard enough time sleeping lately.
   I sat down in my mother's favorite arm chair , where she had spent entire days watching her favorite soaps. I waited for uncle Leo to tell me what he had been hiding. But I knew he wouldn't tell me , so I had to force it out of him.
   "I want to know what your hiding from me. And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."
   He looked at me a moment , and then lowered his eyes to his coffee , which he hadn't yet touched.
   He took a sip. "It's better that you not know , Richard. For your sake. And for the sake of Cheryl , and Sam. These people can be very dangerous. If I tell you everything I know about them , they may decide to kill all three of you. They have the ability to make you disappear , as if you were never born. And I can't live with that. But I can tell you this : what I said about Evelyn not being what you expect her to be. I wasn't lying about that. I wasn't exaggerating. It's happened before. And if it happens to your mother , I want you to promise me something."
   "What's that?"
   "That you will kill her."

   I sat in stunned silence. I couldn't believe what he had just said.
   "What the hell are you talking about?!"
   "There's a slight chance that she won't be the same. Her mind may be gone entirely , and in it's place , may be the mind of .... of an animal. Like I said , it's happened before. It's a side effect of the experiment."
   "What experiment?"
   "The resurrection experiment ," he said. "If her mind is gone , her behavior will be unpredictable. Most of the time she will be docile. She will know who you are. But she will no longer be Evelyn , because she will not have a soul. They can bring back the body , but not the soul , Richard.
   "Is that what you've been hiding from me?"
   "Yes. And if this happens , you have to kill her."
  The past few weeks seemed like a nightmare. I couldn't handle caring for my mother again if she were to come back senile. Which meant that I would have to put her in a rest home. Nor was I prepared to care for someone who could potentially be dangerous and violent. I just couldn't take the chance.
   "I can't do it ," I said.
   "Can't do what?"
  "I'm calling them back to tell them I'm not giving them their money."
   "It's too late for that , Richard. The deed's been done. Either you pay them , or someone close to you dies."
   "But if she comes back normal , I can't take care of her anymore! I can't go through that again."
   "Then put her in a rest home." He put down his coffee and stood up. "I have to go. Call me and let me know how it goes."
   He went to the door , but hesitated before opening it , not turning to look at me. "Remember what I said , Richard."
   He left , and that was the last time I saw him.
  The house was a mess. There were dirty dishes piled high in the kitchen sink , and clothes were scattered throughout the house. I washed the dishes , picked up the clothes , and once again , fell asleep in front of the television. I had the maggot dream again. The door bell chimed , and instead of my mother standing there , there was a large mass of writhing maggots.
   I woke up shaking , my forehead thick with sweat. A car horn sounded briefly outside. I looked out the side window. It was almost dark.. A black , unmarked van was sitting in front of the house , it's lights off. Feeling excited and apprehensive I went outside and waited. No one got out of the van. It sat there idling for several minutes. I was getting tired of waiting. Finally , the side door slid open quietly and two people got out , one tall , one shorter. The tall figure had a hand around the other's arm. The shorter figure was dressed in a black robe with a hood over it's head. I knew it was her .... my mother.
    "Richard Brooks?" the tall man said. He was dressed in a dark suit and wearing sun glasses. A black man , with a very deep voice.
   "I'm Richard Brooks."
   "Do you have my money?"
   "Yes. Wait here while I get it."
   I went back into the house and returned with the envelope uncle Leo had given me. I gave it to him , and he all but shoved her at me.
In a voice filled with loathing , he said , "Take it. I can't bear to look at it anymore."
   He shoved the envelope into an inside coat pocket , walked slowly back to the van , and it drove away slow and quiet. She hadn't said a word since it left , but I knew she was looking at me.
   "Let's get you into the house." I took her by the arm and led her inside. I left her in the entrance hall while I went throughout the living room and the kitchen , switching on all the lights. I then led her to the sofa and sat her down.
   I sat down beside her. "Mom , do you know where you are?"
   She said nothing.
  "Do you know who I am?"
  I expected her to look up at me , smile , and say something like , Richard , it's good to see you again! But again , she said nothing.
   "This is your apartment. And I'm Richard , your son."
   Still no answer.
   I hesitated before pulling back the hood. "Mom , I going to pull down the hood."
   I was prepared to see an old woman staring blankly into space , but what I saw was much worse , God help me ,  it was so much worse!
   I screamed , and screamed , and then everything slowly faded ....

   The authorities said that I had dug up my mother's corpse , and desecrated it. Obviously I had been under a lot of stress , and grief stricken over her death , I had no idea what I had been doing.
   But if that was the truth , I don't remember it. All I remember is pulling back the hood and seeing hundreds of writhing maggots swarming over the hole where her face should have been.
   "Richard ," the thing croaked , and that was when I screamed. I don't know how long I screamed , before everything went black.
   The psychiatrist I was assigned to , thinks I'm crazy. I can see it in his eyes. I told him everything , but he doesn't believe me. He says it wasn't my fault , that I was under so much stress , that I hadn't realized what I had been doing , and in my illness I had imagined Resurrection Inc.. But he was wrong. It happened. Just the way I've written it , here.
   I know I committed an unspeakable crime. And I doubt you will believe me when I tell you that I did it out of love. You have every right to think I'm crazy. I deserve no mercy , nor do I expect any. God is witness to my insanity , and I do not ask Him for mercy.
   My crime wasn't just desecrating her corpse , if that is what I had really done. It was bringing her back , thinking that I could play God. That was my unspeakable crime. And soon , I will pay for my foolishness.
   Even now , as I sit here writing this , I can hear footsteps approaching in the corridor , outside my cell. They are not the jailer's footsteps. They are slow and faltering  , but there is a strange familiarity to them , as if I have heard them before.  I think they are my mothers footsteps. But she is not alone. I can hear others besides her own. Footsteps that are also faltering , and also strangely familiar. 
    My brother's footsteps.
   You see , my mother wasn't the only one I brought back. I brought Sam back as well. He was right. I should have given him the money when he asked for it. It was my fault they had killed him.
My mother's voice comes through the cell door. "Richard. Why did you bring me back? Why?"
    And Sam says , "I told you they would kill me , Richard. Why did you let them kill me , Richard? Why?"
   "I'm sorry. Please forgive me!" The tears come. They finally come.
   "It's too late for that , Richard , " my mother says.
   The cell door opens. My mother and Sam are standing there. They are nothing more than half rotting corpses , festering with maggots , and worms. Their faces , dear God , their faces are mostly eaten away , but their eyes and teeth remain. They look as if they are smiling. They have come to deliver God's judgment to me at last.

The Night She Came Back , part 1



      I keep thinking about the night my mother died , what my uncle said , and what happened after that , the unspeakable crime I committed. You will probably think I'm crazy , and you would be right to think so. I deserve no mercy for what I've done , nor do I expect any. God is witness to my insanity , and my judge. And surely , He will show me no mercy.
    My mother died of brain cancer. I watched her day after day , and week after week , as her mind slowly deteriorated. I was the one who took care of her. My brother , Sam , and sister , Cheryl , couldn't handle the responsibility. They were never responsible about anything , especially when it came to money. And since I was single , with no family of my own , I had no trouble moving into her apartment to take care of her until the inevitable end. They came to see her , but they never stayed long. I wanted their help. I needed their help.
   When mother became bed ridden after the second relapse , I urged her to return to the hospital. But she refused anymore treatment. She said she was tired of feeling sick all the time because of the chemotherapy , and that even if she were treated again , it didn't mean that there wouldn't be a third relapse. She said she knew it was her time to die , and she would rather be at home , in her own bed , when it happened.
    There was nothing I could do ; nothing I could say , except watch her die slowly. I asked Sam and Cheryl for their help , but it was useless asking them for anything. Cheryl was emotionally unstable , and Sam was in debt to a loan shark. The last time he came , I got into an argument with him. He wanted to borrow money from me. He was always asking to borrow money , and always slow to pay it back.
     I wrote him a check , without asking what it was for. Not that he would ever tell me. I was forever saving his ass , and he always came back for more.
    I gave him the check and practically slammed the door in his face on his way out.
    That night , I sat by my mother's bed , watching her sleep. She had been sleeping entire days now , almost round the clock. She was deteriorating quickly , her mind more than her body. She wouldn't live but a week , maybe two. She was on a constant morphine drip for the pain. She had once been a vibrant , attractive woman.   Now she was like a withered corpse , ravaged by disease.
    I fell asleep in the chair. In the morning , uncle Leo called. He's my mother's older brother. When she became bed ridden , I asked him to help me take care of her , since he was the only family she had besides the three of us. He refused , instead , urging me to put her in a hospital , or at least hire a private nurse. Although I wasn't exactly lacking in the money department , but not rich like uncle Leo , I opted to take care of her myself. It was my duty as a loving son. She had taken care of me all of the times that I had been ill , and now it was time for me to do the same. It was my responsibility.
    "How is she?"
    "How do you think she is?!" I said a little too harshly.
    "Have you thought about what I said?"
    "Yes , I have , and it's insane. Do you think I would actually consider something like that , even if it were true?"
   "Do you still have the card?"
   "Yes , I have it."
   "Then I urge you to reconsider. If you don't , you'll never see her again."
   He hung up. I removed the card from my wallet. Uncle Leo had given it to me a few days before. There's a way to bring her back! he had said , and handed me the card. On one side were the words , Resurrection Inc. , and on the other , a telephone number.
   "What is this , a joke?"
   "No joke ," he said.
   For a moment , I looked from his face ~ which was dead serious ~ to the card. "You want me to believe there really is a company called Resurrection Inc. , and that they actually raise people from the dead?"
   He nodded. "Yes."
  "No. It's a joke. My mother is dying and you want me to believe. .."  I was too angry to finish. I flicked the card in his face. He bent down to pick it up. "Get out! Just get out , uncle Leo!"
   "No , Richard! This is not a joke. I wouldn't make up something like this. I know it sounds crazy ~"
   "It sounds insane , uncle Leo."
   "I agree. But please take the card , in case you change your mind. Please , Richard."
   He held the card out to me. Reluctantly , I took it. "Now , get out."
   "Alright , I'll get out. But I have to warn you. If you decide to go through with it , there's a chance that it might not.... that she may be...."
    "What are you trying to say?"
    "Nothing. Never mind."
   Uncle Leo left , and I didn't see him again until the day of the funeral , which was almost three weeks later. He kept watching me the whole time. He didn't shed one tear. I think he knew what I was thinking.

    The wake had been attended by only a few family friends , besides uncle Leo , Sam , Cheryl , and myself. Mother never socialized much , choosing to spending much of her time reading , and gardening ; therefore she didn't have many friends.
    I wanted to shout at all of them to get out , but instead I kept silent and waited for them to leave.
   After everyone had gone , Sam lingered behind. It wasn't out of sympathy or sorrow. He wanted more money.
   "Jesus Christ , Sam! You're a real piece of work! Your mother is dead and all you can think of is money!? You should be ashamed of yourself!"
   He hung his head. "I know. I am ashamed."
   "How dare you come in here and ask for money! I've saved your sorry ass more times than I can count , and each and every time you come crawling back for more , like the pitiful weasel you are. Well , this time I can't help you! You will have to get your money from someone else. Now , get the hell out of here!"
   "But , they're going to kill me , Richard! They're going to kill me if I don't come up with the money!"
   "Ask uncle Leo."
   "I did. He too said no."
   "Then I guess you're on your own!"
   "But ... you can't let them kill me , Richard! I'm your brother , for God sake!"
   "I don't know who you are anymore , but you're not my brother."
  This time , I did slam the door in his face. I locked it and stood with my back against it , while he pounded on it , shouting my name , pleading for me to help him. In a few moments , he gave up and left.
    As he drove away , I wanted to yank open the door and run after him. But , I couldn't help him anymore. I had no more money to give him.
    I sat down on the floor. I no longer felt angry. All of the anger and frustration of the last few weeks , was finally gone. There was nothing left but emptiness. I wanted to cry , to let it all out. And yet , I couldn't. As much as I wanted to , as hard as I tried , the tears would not come.
    I don't know how long I sat there , with my back against the door. Finally , I got up and went home. After closing and locking the door  , I  removed the card from my wallet. I went to the phone. Picking  up the receiver , I hesitated. If my mother came back , how would I explain it to the neighbors? Someone would see her eventually. And how would I explain it to Sam and Cheryl? That uncle Leo had told me about a shady company that secretly raised people from the dead? They would volunteer to carry me off to the funny farm.
I wouldn't be able to explain it. I put the receiver down. Looking again at the card , I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was actually even considering it! It had to be a sick joke.
    I called uncle Leo's cell phone. I was prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of him.
   However , when he answered , I hesitated. "This had better not be a joke , uncle Leo."
   "What's that , Richard?"
   "Resurrection Inc."
   "It's not a joke."
  "When you gave me the card , you were going to tell me something."
   "I was going to tell you that... that she might not be what you expect. Let's just leave it at that ," he said.
   "What's that supposed to mean?"
   "Please don't ask , Richard. If I tell you , they will know. And believe me , these are people you don't want to mess with. So , please do it , or don't do it! It's your choice. And if you do , then good luck. Good bye , Richard." He hung up.
    I called the number on the back of the card. It was answered by a female automated voice. "To speak to a representative , please press one. To make a complaint , press two."
   I pressed one. Another female voice came on line. This one sounded not much different than the other one. "Hello. Resurrection Inc., where the dearly departed are not forgotten. Your loss is our loss. Your grief is our grief. Your joy is our joy. Please wait while I connect you with a representative."
    If it wasn't a joke , it sure sounded like one.
   I was put on hold for several minutes. Distorted music played annoyingly loud in the back ground. I was about to hang up and forget the whole thing , when there was a click , and another voice came on line , this one not so pleasant , a man this time. He quickly went through the same spiel , sounding bored , as if he had been reciting the same thing all day.
   "To whom am I speaking?"
   "My name is Richard Brooks ," I told him. 
  "Alright , Mr. Brooks , before we begin , I will need some information about the deceased , such as full name , maiden name , age , and location where deceased is buried , which should include state , city , and name of cemetery. I will also need your state , city , and address. After you have given me said information , I will tell you how we accept payment."
    He sounded bored again , as if he were reciting from a script. His voice droned like a bill collection recording , and again I was tempted to hang up.
   Before giving him the information , I asked how much it was going to cost.
   "For an adult , your total cost will be fifty thousand."
   I dropped the receiver. "Mr. Brooks? Still there?"
   "Yes , I'm still here."
   How was I supposed to come up with that kind of money? I had less than ten thousand in my entire account. It would wipe me out. I supposed I could borrow the money from uncle Leo. Would he help me?
   If not , I would have to borrow the money from a bank.
   "Do you accept , Mr. Brooks?"
   "No , I don't accept. It's outrageous!"
   "Well , Mr. Brooks , you are certainly free to decline , but let me tell you that you will find no one else who is offering this type of service." He paused a moment. "Do you wish to decline , Mr. Brooks?"
    "No ," I said reluctantly. "Go ahead and do it."
   "Very well , sir. I will just need the requested information , and then I will tell you how we accept payment for this service."
   I gave him all the information. I heard fingers quickly tapping a computer keypad. "Thank you , Mr. Brooks. Now listen carefully , and please do not interrupt , because the following information is very important. We do not accept personal checks , money orders , or credit cards. We only accept cash. If you are unable to accept this transaction with cash , then please tell me now , and this call will be terminated. Can you complete this transaction , Mr. Brooks?"
   "Yes , I suppose I can."
  "Suppose , Mr. Brooks? Either you can , or you cannot."
  "Yes , I can!"
  "Excellent. Continue listening carefully , and please do not interrupt. In approximately twenty four hours you will receive a special delivery. Please pay the gentlemen the cash when they ask for it. If said cash is not handed over , dire consequences may befall certain loved ones , or yourself. Is that understood , Mr. Brooks?"
   "Excuse me?" I said. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. "Is that a threat?"
   "No , Mr. Brooks , I am simply stating a fact."
   "Sounds like a threat to me!"
   "I see no reason to get excited , Mr. Brooks."
   "Like hell there isn't! You listen to me you smug son of a bitch , and don't interrupt. This transaction is terminated!"
   I slammed the receiver down so hard , that it actually cracked.  My first thought was to call the police. But what would I tell them? That I had done business with a company that raised corpses , and that they had threatened me physically if I didn't pay up? I really couldn't prove any of it. All I had was a so called business card , and a telephone number , which  still wouldn't prove anything.
   I called uncle Leo back. I wanted to know everything he knew about Resurrection Inc..
   "I'm in the middle of something , Richard. Make it quick."
   "Tell me about Resurrection Inc. Who are they and how did you find out about them?"
   "I can't tell you anything ," he said.
   "Why not?"
   "Because I don't know anything."
   He was lying. I knew he was hiding something , and I was going to find out what it was.
   "Stop lying to me."
   "I'm not lying , Richard."
   "You said they were dangerous."
   "They are dangerous. That's all I know , believe me."
   "I don't believe you ," I said. "You're hiding something. Something you don't want me to know. Tell me what it is."
    "I wish I could , but I can't."
    "Can't? Or won't?"
   "I have to go , Richard. Please don't call me about this again. I don't want to talk about it."
   "Damn it , uncle Leo! I was threatened by these people , and I want to know what the hell you know about them."
   He was silent a moment. "What happened?"
   "They threatened physical violence to me , or someone I know if I didn't pay them. But I don't have the money , so I'm not going through with it."
   "How much do you need?"
   "I said I'm not doing it."
   "How much do you need?"
After a moment of silence , I said , "One hundred thousand."
   "Did they say when they would make the delivery?"
   "Twenty four hours from now."
   "Alright , listen to me , Richard. On my way there tomorrow morning , I'll stop off at my bank and get the money. When I hang up , call them back and tell them you have their money. Do exactly as they say. Understand?"
   "Why are you doing this , uncle Leo?"
   "Why do you think , Richard? Because I can't stand to see you in pain."
   He hung up , and I stood there staring at the phone. I never knew that my uncle even cared about me.
   I redialed the number for Resurrection Inc.. It was answered by the same woman. "Resurrection Inc. How can I help you?"
   "It's Richard Brooks again ," I said.
   "One moment , please." She put me on hold again. The music was worse than before. I was on hold for almost five minutes."
   "Hello again , Mr. Brooks. Change your mind?"
This time I heard something in the asshole's voice , I hadn't heard before : greed.
   "Yes , I changed my mind. I have your money."
   Before I hung up , I said ,"Don't ever threaten me again."

The Darkness , part 2

.... And found myself in my bedroom closet. I lay on the floor , gasping for breath , stinking of piss , sweat , and the foul slime odor. I felt like I had run a marathon. I lay there for some time , letting the pain in my legs and lungs slowly subside. I wanted to make the images of the horrors I had seen , go away , but they would be forever etched in my memory , giving me many sleepless nights.

   The doorway to the other world was gone. There was no trace of it. Had it not been for the slime that still covered me , and the laceration to my ankle - which throbbed like a rotted tooth - I would have believed it to have been a waking nightmare.

   Later , much later , I would begin to question my sanity.

  The closet door was wide open. The light I had seen from the other side , had been the glow of my Spider man night light. Spidey had saved me - this time.

  Getting to my feet , I nearly passed out. I waited a minute , and then limped into the room , shutting the closet door. I sat on the bed and switched on the bedside lamp , to examine the wound to my ankle. It looked nasty , deep enough to require stitches. My entire foot was covered in blood. It was bleeding all over the carpet , but I didn't care. I had to do something before I passed out.

 
   There was only one thing I could do. I had to wake my parents.

   Switching on the hall light , I limped to their room. The house was dark and quiet. It made periodic settling noises. When I was years younger , I used to think those sounds were made by monsters.

   I knocked loudly. It seemed I knocked forever. Finally my father opened the door. I looked up at him. He looked down at me , frowning.

   "Kyle? What....?"

   I wondered if he was angry at me for waking him  , or because I was covered in stinky slime and smelling of piss. I tried to tell him what happened , but I couldn't : everything around me began to fade , to recede from me. I heard a far off voice say ,"Frank? Is that Kyle?" and I knew it was my mother.

  Finally , I collapsed.

   ....And found myself back where I had just escaped from. This time , instead of being pursued , I was suspended in a slime sack ,  struggling to free myself. I could hear other children screaming for help. I could hear the eager and hungry sounds of the shadowy creatures. This time I would not escape them. They would finally devour me.

    I screamed.

   I woke in the hospital. My parents were standing by the bed , looking worried.

   "Am I going to be alright?"

   They looked at each other , then back at me. "Of course you are , sweetheart ," my mother said. "You passed out. The doctor ran some tests to find out what might have caused it , but he couldn't find a thing."

   "But what about - ?" I pulled back the bed sheet and looked at my ankle. There was no dressing , no laceration! It was as if I had never been wounded!

   "What is it , Kyle?" she said.

  "Nothing."

   How could I tell them that what I had experienced was real and not a nightmare? Even though I was seven , and would not be blamed , I didn't want them to believe that I was crazy. So , I said nothing.

   "Was it a nightmare that scared you , Kyle?" my father said.

   "Yeah , it must have been a nightmare."

   I had looked into the face of madness and escaped the Darkness. But , for how long? I knew it would come for me again ; it was only a matter of time. And when it did , I had to be ready for it.

The Darkness , part 1

  
    The darkness came for me when I was seven.

    Ever since that night , I had always been terrified of the dark , sleeping with the lights on , and when I got older , popping caffeine pills like they were candy , because I was afraid to close my eyes. I still am. I knew there was nothing to be afraid of ; darkness is nothing more than the absence of light. But there are things in the dark that should be feared. Things that can drive you mad if you were to look them in the face.  Because you would be looking into the face of madness and insanity.

  
    Some people believe in the devil. Others believe that we are responsible for the evil in this world. What most people don't know , is that there are things beyond this world that are far more evil than the darkness that abides in the human soul. Things foul and disgusting. Things of madness and nightmare. They live in the darkness ; they hide in the shadows so we cannot see them. If we did see them , the mere sight of them would drive us insane. They are afraid of the light , like some of us fear the dark. They influence our dreams ; they are the cause of our nightmares. They themselves are responsible for the evil in this world.

  
    Every once in a while , they will venture forth from their world , their dimensional plane , into ours , to take some of us. Always children , never adults. Children are the most susceptible to their influence , the most easily frightened. Those they cannot easily influence , such as most adults , they attempt to control through dreams. Those they cannot prey upon , they drive insane. These tortured souls become serial murderers , and child predators.

  
   I first encountered the Darkness when I was seven.

   I was a frail , skinny child , afraid of almost everything , including my own shadow. But it wasn't until after my first encounter that I developed a fear of the dark , and it has remained with me ever since.
  
   One night I fell asleep , and when I woke up , found myself , not in my bed , in my own room , but in a strange place. An alien world. It was cold and dark. There were grayish walls that dripped and oozed a disgusting grey slime. The floor beneath me was covered with the same stuff. It had a putrid odor.

  
    At first I thought I might be dreaming. , but at that age I was able to distinguish dreams from waking life , and this was no dream. There was a faint , dull light that seemed to emanate from the floor and the walls. Getting to my feet , I discovered that my entire body , from head to foot , was covered in the weird slime. It had even gotten into my mouth. It tasted foul and disgusting. I wanted to vomit. Instead , I spat it out , and looked at my hands. It felt as disgusting as it tasted. It stuck to my hands as stubborn as spider silk ; no amount of shaking or wiping would get rid of all of it.

   Looking around at the slime covered floors and walls , I realized that the light came not from them , but from the slime itself. And since I was covered in the stuff , it was coming from me as well! I shuffled toward the nearest wall , hoping to discover a way out. However , the closer I seemed to get , the farther the wall seemed to recede , as things have a way of doing in dreams. But this was no dream ; I was awake and desperate to find a way out.

   It wasn't long before I heard the screams .... and the other sounds. Sounds I had never heard before and hoped to never hear again. I can only describe them inhuman whispering ; eager and hungry. The screams were faint and far off , but the whispering sounds were closer , much closer. So close , in fact , that they seemed to be coming from everywhere.

   For a moment , my heart seemed to stop , then beat like a jack hammer. My only thought was to get out of there. It was then that I noticed a faint light , like the beginning of sunrise. I ran toward it. I ran for all I was worth , my seven year old legs pumping like the cylinders of an engine. I was aware that my feet made disgusting squishing sounds as I ran.

  
    I heard the screams again , nearer this time , and the whispering , also nearer. I recognized the screams as those of children crying out for help. I wanted to find them and help them. But where were they? All I could see was slime. It was everywhere. I was ankle deep in it.

   Footing was slick. I slipped several times. The second time , I fell flat on my face in the stuff. The whispering sounds were almost upon me! I struggled to my feet and looked back. What I saw brought a scream to my throat. I couldn't swallow. My mouth  was full of the putrid stuff.

  I continued running for the light , spitting the stuff out and retching at the same time. I slipped again , but managed to stay on my feet. I wanted to erase the image of what I had seen , from my mind. But it was too horrifying. What I had seen was like something from a Lovecraft nightmare. Something so hideous and monstrous that it defied description.  All I really saw were the tentacles and gaping maw of the nearest creature. It oozed the same slime that covered everything in this nightmarish landscape.

   Like the walls , I was afraid the light would get farther away , the closer I seemed to get. But it didn't. It was getting brighter. It was definitely getting brighter!

   I ran faster. I ran , never taking my eyes off the light , which gradually grew brighter. Soon I would be out! I would be out of this nightmare world and back in my own bedroom. I was sure the light was a doorway back to my own world. I did not know how I knew this , but I knew.

   I seemed to be running for an eternity. I began to tire. My legs felt like lead. The vile stuff made it difficult to run , but I ran as fast and hard as I could , not looking back a second time , because if I did , the monsters would get me. I kept my eyes fixed on the light , trying to ignore the pain that shot up my legs like a bullet , and into my lungs.

   The screams became louder , and the whispering sounds grew more intense. Upon the walls I began to notice strange shapes. They were sacks of the vile slime ; some of them were moving! Looking directly at one of them , I saw a face peering out at me , a child's face , screaming for help! I wanted to stop and help them , but if I stopped running , I would be devoured by the monsters that pursued me.

   I ran toward the light. It was so bright now. Squinting my eyes , I thought I could make out the faint out line of a doorway. Was it real? I was almost there! The pain in my legs and lungs , was unbearable. I wanted to stop running. I wanted to give up and let them have me. But I ran .... and ran .... and ran. The opening - it was a doorway! - was almost upon me. If I could just manage ....  something grabbed me from behind , pulling me face down into the slime. I screamed , and my bladder let loose. Looking back , I saw that one of the monsters had latched onto my left ankle with a tentacle. It was no thicker than the limb of a small dog , but incredibly strong. It was the same color of the slime ; black veins coursed through it.  

   It dug into my flesh , drawing blood.

  
   Screaming more in anger than pain , I grabbed hold of the tentacle and viciously sank my teeth into it. There was an ungodly shriek ; foul smelling black blood erupted from it , and it released it's hold.

   Ignoring the pain in my ankle , I leaped through the doorway ....



UFO Journal

   
    I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life , that we are not alone in the universe. In the movie , Contact , Jodie foster poses the question of life originating elsewhere.

    "If not ," she concludes ,"then it's an awful waste of space."

    If other civilizations do exist within our own galaxy , have some of them visited us , and have some of them kidnapped us? Given the vast distances between the stars , it is highly unlikely. Maybe even impossible. But who knows what a highly advanced civilization may be capable of. Interstellar travel? Inter dimensional travel? Time travel?

    Recorded history is full of unexplained , mass disappearances. In 1939 , in the province of Nan King , China , three thousand soldiers disappeared without a trace. It happened in a fairly populated area , but no one saw , or heard anything. And in 1711 , four thousand Spanish soldiers vanished while on an expedition into the Pyrenees mountains in America. The entire Mayan civilization mysteriously vanished over night. The first English settlement at Roanoke , North Carolina , also mysteriously disappeared.
   These pieces of historical fact were included in the movie , Phantoms , which was released in 1998 , and which was also a novel by Dean Koontz. At the end of the book , Koontz speculates on the possibility that a similar creature to his Ancient Enemy , may exist , that may be responsible for world wide mass disappearances.

    In each of these cases , no bodies ever turned up , alive or dead , and no mass graves were ever discovered. To date , the fate of all these people remains unknown. They seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.

   What happened to these people? Were they taken away by UFOs? Or did the earth simply open up and swallow them? No one will ever know.

Shadows

  
    "There are no such things as monsters , Lindsay!" Shannon said , turning off the television. "Now please go upstairs and get to bed. I'm not telling you again. I'll be right up to tuck you in."

    "I don't need you to tuck me in ; I'm not a baby!"

    "Then stop acting like one , and get to bed."

    "I will if you sit up with me until I fall asleep."

    "I thought you weren't a baby."

   "I'm not. I just don't want the shadows to get me before I fall asleep."

   "What are you talking about?"

   "The shadows can't get you when you're asleep ," Lindsay said.

   "They can't get you at all , Lindsay. They're not real."

   "They are real , and if you send me up there alone , they'll get me. Will you please sit with me till I'm asleep? Please , Shannon?"

   Shannon sighed heavily , rose from the sofa and extended her hand to Lindsay. "Alright. Come on , let's see if we can keep the Bogey man away."

   Lindsay grinned and took her hand. As they climbed the stairs , she said , "It's not the Bogey Man. It's something much worse."

   Lightning flashed at the windows , followed by a low rumble of thunder. In a few minutes , the wind rose and rain began to fall.

   After Lindsay had settled comfortably into her bed , and Shannon had pulled the girl's computer chair beside it , she said ,"Why do you believe monsters are real , Lindsay? Have you ever seen one?"

   "Well , not really. But I have dreamed about them."

   "So , that makes them real?"

   "No. But it does when I keep dreaming about them , and when they keep telling me they're coming to get me."

   "What do they look like?"
 
   "Like shadows. Black , snakelike thingies."

   "Is it the same dream?"

   The girl nodded. "The same dream."

   "It's only a dream , Lindsay. What's called a recurring nightmare."

   "What's that?"

   "Having the same dream more than once. Everyone has them. But it doesn't mean the dream is real."

   "This one is ," the girl said. Shannon saw fear in her eyes.

    After Lindsay had fallen asleep , she went back down stairs and switched on the television. She thought about what Lindsay had told her. She remembered her own nightmares from years ago , and how they had frightened her to the point that she dreaded going to sleep. She had out grown her fear of the dark. Would Lindsay?

   Lightning flashed at the windows , followed by a low rumbling. She listened to the rainfall , remembering how it had calmed her as a child. Her eye lids grew heavy. In a few moments she was asleep.

   She came awake with a start. Had someone screamed , or had she been dreaming?

   "Lindsay?"

   The house was dark ; the television was off. The storm had knocked out the power. Shannon stumbled through the living room , feeling her way to the kitchen. She remembered Mr. Ambrose telling her that there were a couple of flash lights in the first drawer beside the sink. She found them right where he said  they would be , and checked to see if both were in good working order. They were. Lightning flashed ; this time there was a loud peal of thunder that made her flinch. She never did like thunder ; it scared her now almost as much as it had when she was a little girl. But she did like the sound of the rain. She could hear it now , as it beat steadily at the kitchen windows.

   Back in the living room , she stopped at the stairs and looked up. Lightning flashed intermittently , like a photographer taking pictures of a crime scene , illuminating the darkness that so terrified her as a child. She was not now so sure that she had completely overcome her fear. She didn't want to go up there , even though she had a flashlight with her. But she had to check on Lindsay. She was not certain if she had been awakened by a scream , or if she had dreamed it. Perhaps Lindsay had experienced another recurring nightmare , and had cried out in her sleep.

   She ascended the stairs , slowly , telling herself that the darkness had no substance , that it could not hurt her. It seemed to work. Reaching Lindsay's door , she shone the flash light into the room . The bed was empty.

   "Lindsay?" Had she gone to the bathroom?

   Shannon thought she heard something in the room , but she was the only  one there. Probably just her imagination. Lightning flashed , and the darkness receded for only a moment. She hurried to the upstairs bathroom ; Lindsay was not there.

   She looked all over the house ; Lindsay was nowhere to be found. She went back upstairs , remembering that there was one place she hadn't looked. Lindsay's closet.

   She yanked open the door , and directed the flash lights beam into the darkness , revealing nothing but a young girl's ward robe and shoes. No Lindsay. Where else could she be? She had checked every possible place a little girl could hide .... or had she? Another place she hadn't looked , was under Lindsay's bed.

   She was shutting the door , when she heard a sharp thump. "Lindsay? Is that you? Get out of there right now!"

   The girl came out reluctantly shielding her eyes from the flashlight. Something had frightened her ; her eyes darted back and forth through the darkness. She was trembling.

   "Lindsay , what were you doing in there?"

   "Hiding."

   "Hiding from what?"

   "The shadows. Their here!"

  "It was just a dream , Lindsay! I told you there are no such things ~"

   An almost familiar sound came from the darkness. To Shannon it sounded like the hiss of an angry or frightened animal , but what kind of animal , she could not say. She had never heard anything quite like it before.

   She said ,"Please tell me that was a cat!"

   Lindsay was shaking her head , her eyes fixed on a spot directly over Shannon's shoulder. Shannon turned reluctantly to see what the girl was looking at , and as she did so , there was a sudden stab of lightning. In the brief seconds that illuminated the room , she saw something that she knew she would never see again ; she had a sudden premonition that she and Lindsay would not live to tell about it.
   It was  a large serpentlike creature. Shannon remembered seeing a movie called Anaconda. This thing looked almost as big as the creatures in the film. It was blacker than the darkness itself , and in it's head were two  yellow eyes ,  like those of a cat.  They shone eerily in the beam of Shannon's flashlight.  There were two of the creatures. The one nearest Shannon towered more than halfway to the ceiling. Another hovered above the girl's bed , it's catlike eyes fixed on Lindsay.

   As Lindsay and Shannon screamed , both creatures hissed simultaneously , and maws as black as the endless void between the stars , opened and devoured each of  them whole. It moments they were gone , absorbed into a darkness that was more than shadows.



 

The Hole

    Bert found the hole when he went out back to mow the lawn. It hadn't been there before. It was a small hole , about a foot wide , which led him to believe that a gopher was most likely responsible.

    "Damn gopher ," he muttered.

    He adjusted his Dodgers cap , and walked over to the shed to get the lawn mower. He would deal with the pest as soon as he took care of the yard. He preferred to deal with the gopher first , but if Martha saw him digging holes in the yard , or flooding it , she would have a fit , and Bert was in no mood to listen to the old crow bitch and moan.

    The mower was a John Deere. He had spent a small fortune on it , and Martha had squawked plenty about that , too. But Bert didn't care how much it cost. One of the reasons he had bought it in the first place , was to piss Martha off , because he knew that she was even more of a tight wad  than he was.
    As he pushed it from the shed , he thought of the perfect solution to get rid of the pest. He would drown it out. He wished he could find an easier solution to getting rid of Martha.
    It was a warm , spring day , the perfect time for yard work. The sky was clear  and birds chirped in every tree. Starting the mower , Bert looked up and saw Martha on the back porch , sipping daintily through a straw from a glass of lemonade. He frowned. When you saw Martha for the first time , your natural reaction was to flinch. She wasn't exactly what you would call a handsome woman. To Bert , she looked too much like the actress , Anne Ramsey , from the movie , Throw Momma From The Train. They had been married almost fourty six years , and Bert still hadn't gotten used to that face.
    On the patio table  stood a tall pitcher of ice filled lemonade , which was already half empty , depending whether you were an optimist or a pessimist. Bert was a pessimist by habit. He knew that by the time he finished with the yard work , every drop of lemonade would be gone.
    He switched off the engine and climbed the porch steps to pour himself a glass.
    Martha eyed him suspiciously. Every time he came near her , she gave him the evil eye. Bert knew it was because she liked to pass gas when she was alone , and didn't want anyone near her.
   "What are you doing , Bert?"
   "What does it look like I'm doing?"
   "Stalling , that's what."
    Bert finished his drink with an exaggerated sigh of content , and plunked the tumbler down on the surface of the table , almost hard enough to shatter it. Martha glared at him. The table had been a wedding gift from her mother.  She loved putting it out every spring and summer. It had little piglets in Tu - Tu's dancing across the glass surface. Bert hated it ; he thought it was a stupid wedding gift.
   He started the mower again. As he passed the hole , he noticed that while he had been enjoying his lemonade , the hole had gotten bigger. It was now three to four times as big as it had been. He switched off the engine again , and climbed off to have a closer look.
    As he stared at it , it widened several more feet , and his eyes widened in surprise. Dirt spilled from it's sides and fell away into the hole. "That son of a bitch better be having fun ," he said. "It doesn't have long on this earth."
   "Leave that gopher alone , Bert , and get busy! The yard ain't going to get mowed by itself."
    Forget the yard. He was taking care of that gopher now ,  while he still had a yard! He ran to fetch the garden hose and turned it on.  Hurrying back to the hole , he managed to trample through Martha's prized petunias , slopping water all over himself.
   Martha screamed when she saw him stomping through her flowers.  Dropping her glass , she hurried off the porch , heading straight for Bert with a murderous glare. "What are you doing to my tunies!?"
   Bert always laughed when she called them that. But he wasn't laughing now. He was so intent on getting rid of the gopher that he hadn't noticed that the hose had become entangled around his feet. Martha had sank to her knees before her tunies , sobbing and screaming. Bert tripped over the hose and fell flat on his face , inches from the hole , also managing to squash at least a dozen tunies , as well. He gasped when he saw it. It was now over six and a half feet in diameter. Dirt fell from it's sides as it slowly continued to widen.
    "That must be a damn big gopher!" he croaked. Then he heard the strange noises. At first he couldn't tell where the noises were coming from , because Martha was making so much noise herself. Then he realized they were coming from within the hole.
    A thousand moans ...
    A thousand screams ...
   Demented laughter. The hairs on his arms stood on end. He peered into the hole and saw only darkness.
    "That ain't no damn gopher!" he whispered.
   Martha was still kneeling by her tunies , moaning and sobbing. "Damn you , Bert! Look what you did! You ruined my tunies , you bastard! Now they'll never win first prize!"
    Still sobbing , she went into the shed , and in a moment , reappeared with a shovel. "You know what I'm going to do with this shovel , Bert?"
    "Dig another hole?" he croaked , and laughed.
   "Laugh it up , funny man! You won't think it's funny when I smash your head in with it , and then shove it up your ass!"
    She raised the shovel high above her head , and Bert rolled aside to his left. Before the blow could fall that would bash his brains all over the yard , Martha's feet stumbled over the hose. For a few seconds she staggered precariously over the edge of the hole , with a look of surprise on her face .... and fell in. Her screams didn't last very long.

    That night , Bert dreamed that Martha had come back. Her silhouette stood framed in the bedroom doorway , her hands behind her back.

    "I forgive you for ruining my tunies , Bert ," she said. "But I can't forgive you for killing me. For that , you have to be punished."

    She came into the room and stood beside the bed. She removed her hands from behind her back. She no longer had the shovel. This time it was an ax. And this time the blow would fall.

    He awoke with a sudden start ; he was drenched in sweat. He noticed at once that he was not alone.

    "Martha?"

   He switched on his beside lamp. When he saw her , his first impulse was to scream. But he remained silent.  He wasn't sure he could scream. She stood just within the doorway , her hands concealed behind her back , as she had in the dream. Bert knew what she was hiding. But it wasn't that she was concealing an ax that troubled him. Bert could deal with the fact that she wanted to split his head open. And it wasn't that she was naked. He could deal with that , too - under normal circumstances.
    What Bert could not deal with , were the small , disgusting  insect like creatures that crawled upon her skin , which had rotted through to the bone in several places. He could see their mandibles tearing off chunks of her flesh ,  and burrowing into her skin - which Martha did not seem to mind , or even notice. 
    "I can forgive you for destroying my tunies , Bert ," she said. "But not for killing me."
   "Oh , God!" he whispered. He wanted to beg forgiveness. Instead , he closed his eyes and waited for the blow that would split his head in two.
    He didn't have long to wait.