Welcome to my Psychological Thriller/Horror Page! This is where you read excerpts of my Short Stories. Everything is specifically color coded on this page, in order to tell the differences among the brief summaries of the latest short stories, the story titles, and the actual excerpts of each story. Also, Across The street is in the brightest font because it has already been bound. Enjoy!
The following is an excerpt from Malice which has been now renamed, “Maliciousness.” Also, these photos are ALL images I found via Flickr, in order to help set the tone for each story.
I reached for Malice. “Look, I’m really sorry about--”
Before I could touch her, she pulled away. “Shut up! I am so sick of you. You know that, right?”
“Hey, I said I was--”
“You know what? That’s okay.” Malice started laughing like someone gone mad.
“Have you ever seen MY dark side?” That crazed glare! “I bet you haven’t.” Every muscle in my body stiffened.
The Bill Collector
Who doesn't love that hair curling feeling of being violated?
Alice knew better than to sneak into a stranger’s bedroom but she did it
anyway. Inching closer, she dreadfully turned the doorknob… and walked inside.
The room across the hallway was vacant; It was a vacant bedroom converted into a
shrine room. A cluttered room with symbols of the astrological sign of Capricorn, a
taxidermy goat’s head, lit candles, a replicated mannequin head of the blonde, a
wedding dress thumb tacked to the wall. Like liquid corn syrup, a girl’s name trickled
in blood, and pictures of her… Trickling from above… was “Alice.”
Psycho Vs. Psycho
The Horrors Of Womanhood
you believe, that surviving an appointment at the dentist or oral surgeon is
frightening, try surviving a gynecological appointment with Dr. Woody
This next excerpt is from my short story, “The Horrors Of Womanhood.”
This 2 ton tubby came waddling in, complaining about having vaginal cramps. With disgust, I asked, “Are you on the rag?”
Eventually, I said to 2 Ton Tubby, “Before stab-- I mean, pricking you, I’ve got a few more questions to ask.”
“Do you drink?”
“Do you smoke?”
“Do you or have you ever done any illegal drugs?”
“Are you currently sexually active?”
“How many sexual partners have you ever had in your past?”
“Ah, no body count you say? Do you masturbate?”
2 Ton shouted, “WHAT! No! NEVER! I’m a woman. Only men do such a thing as that!” Then muttered, “Pervert.”
Finally, I said to her, “Okay, now hook your feet through these stirrups. Scoot your butt further down the bed, a little closer to the edge, and spread your legs for me nice and wide.”
“Yeah, just like that.” I started washing my hands, rinsed my speculum with hot water, put on my latex gloves, and JAB. She began to scream and cry.
All Of Chastity's Men
Valentine’s Day 2012:
“We are NOTHING to each other.”
“That’s not true! You take that back, Allan. You will NOT ignore me. If that were really true, WHY WOULD YOU PUBLICLY FLIRT WITH ME INSIDE AND OUTSIDE OF CLASSES?”
Gasping for air, “Chastity, I’m really sorry for the way I treated you, years ago. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
“HA! Really? It was ‘never your intention to hurt me?’ Because of you, my reputation was drug and smeared through a giant puddle of mud. You spent our last 2 years of high school sharing erotic letters, that were only meant for you with the circle jerk you call ‘friends.’ Gossip about the erotic letters I gave you spread like a wild fire around campus. I became notorious; Our entire student body suddenly knew me and it wasn’t because of being the so-called ‘Curve Breaker’ for almost always breaking the curve for Japanese.”
The jingling of Allan’s shackles stopped.
“Girls including those lying, backstabbing, social climbing, opportunistic friends like that bitch, Priyanka, called me a slut to my face and behind my back. While you and your friends laughed at my expense Allan, I endured what today would be considered ‘slut shaming’, public humiliation, and ‘sexploitation.’ I watched you flirt with the ugliest bitches you could find like Summer to my face. Despite the fact that she had the so-called ‘Ghetto Booty’ for a white girl, Summer needed The Bitch Bag.”
Allan slouched against the brick basement wall like a zombie blankly staring at me like the cast from Twilight. Woody hovered over his face like a locker room heckler.
“Oooh-- If looks could kill. Ya know, I kinda feel sorry for you, man. I’m so glad I’m not in your situation, right now. Ha-ha-ha.”
“Entitled jocks would approach me in the hallways expecting me to write them erotic letters for the sake of bragging to their buddies about said letters like YOU did, Allan. Otherwise, I endured slander, defeminization, degrading jokes, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic slurs, sexual harassment, and sexual cornering. It didn’t stop just there.”
“Don’t try to guilt trip me! I gave you the attention you wanted.”
“What? You can’t handle what really happened? Guess what? I lived through all of it! I bet you wish you had more acid to drop right now, don’t you?”
“You were asking for it, you psycho.” Hearing Mr. Pretty Boy Guitarist call me a “psycho,” left me seething. Giving him The Death Glare, I took a step back.
“Uh-oh. Looks like you pissed off Chastity more than you already have.”
“Time for your electrocution.”
“Wait, WHAT! Look, I’m really sorr--”
“Before my dog was euthanized years ago,” I said as I pulled on her shock collar already strapped around Allan’s neck, “my family strapped this shock collar around her neck because she wouldn’t stop biting us. Years later, I still miss her.” I reached below my obsession’s belt.
Allan groaned from the pain.
“I can keep punching them till they turn black and blue, if you’d like? Standing here watching you writhe from pain,” whispering in his ear, “really turns me on.”
Did my eyes deceive me that day? Did Allan’s balls actually shrink the moment his face turned paler than a ghost? I don’t know what exactly frightened him at that second. Me seductively whispering in his ear, while he was shackled? Or me snickering with sadistic intent as I punched him in his balls?
Along the way, I must have triggered Dr. Woody Johnson’s bloodlust. He snuck behind me and started biting the side of my neck. As Dr. Woody bit the side of my neck with his hot metallic breath in front of Allan, “WOODY!” I shouted, “Bring out the black marble coffin!”
“Whatever makes you happy, my Mistress of Darkness,” he said walking away.
I felt the heat inside my cheeks, as I giggled like a Naughty Catholic School Girl.
“What? He bit me and I liked it. It’s not my fault that you had the chance to witness Dr. Woody Johnson’s public display of kink with moi.”
Allan witnessing an older man biting my neck was an adrenaline rush. He had the chance to see that another man, who was older than us could actually want me. Ooh... Felt. So. Goood!
Woody drug the black marble coffin. “Where do you want it?”
“Right here for Allan to see.” As the door to the coffin slowly creaked open, it seemed as if Allan's dilated pupils were flooded with internal screams. Inside the black marble coffin was Donovan’s corpse. As I stroked Donovan’s cold and lifeless face, Allan looked like he was in the middle of a bad acid trip.
“What’s the matter, Allan?” I asked as I cut a lock of Donovan’s hair and sprinkled it in front of him. You act like you’ve never seen a corpse before. I thought you found my kinkiness titillating to your blue balls, years ago.” Like a rodent, Allan shrieked.
Across The Street
Hey! How's it going my gumdrops? As some of you already know, I
briefly mentioned a few times about my chapbook. It is bound at Carthage
College, which was where I graduated 13 years ago. I decided to share a
piece of my work with you all.
This piece was originally a Creative Writing Class Assignment. We had to pay homage to a writer. I mostly paid homage to Octavio Paz and his 3-page Flash Fiction Story, "The Blue Bouquet." I also paid homage to KoRn's inside album cover, Follow The Leader, James O'Barr's The Crow, and Stewie from Family Guy. This is along with Garbage's old song, "I'm Only Happy When It Rains."
For the most part, this is my original short story, "Dolls." "Dolls" holds the same title in my chapbook. However, I recently changed the title to "Across The Street." Anyway, here's an excerpt from my Horror Flash Fiction Story, "Across The Street." Enjoy!
Walking inside, I saw the woman’s husband. His corpse was bolstered to their garage floor with ropes ravelled around him. Attached to those same ropes were Living Dead Dolls hanging upside down. His eye sockets were hollowed. As I stood there, my heart sank with paralyzing fear.