Becoming My Heroine!

Now, I'm writing the second book in the Blood and Passion Series, Anat: Blood Princess. Anat first appeared briefly in the previous book, Justine: Into the Blood. (on sale at Amazon).

Anat was a royal princess and loved a slave which was forbidden...the punishment for such an infraction was horrific. Her story is tragic and torturous. It spans many centuries.

In order to write about her, I become her. This I can do because I studied acting (The Method). I love doing that because it makes all my research come alive. I put myself in her world. Where she began and where she went and all that happened along the way; every emotion she felt, I will feel.

Naturally, I will carry on but the starting point is in Ancient Egypt.

This music gives me her story. I hear it and know that at the most difficult time in her life she was comforted by a slave, a slave called Ramet. He played music and sang to her to drive away her sorrow. And because he cared so much about her, she fell deeply in love with him, despite her mother's warnings.

Ramet sang and wrote poetry to her. Here is an example of Ancient Egyptian love poetry. Perhaps Ramet wrote something similar:

Her neck is slender, ample her breast,
Her hair is lapis-lazuli;

Her arms more splendid than gold
And her fingers like lotus petals.

Her robe is tightly caught in around her waist.
Revealing the most beautiful legs in all the world...

You cannot help following her with your eyes wherever she goes,
She is such an unrivalled goddess in appearance.
(14th century BCE)

~*~

This is world building in the most personal way I can make it. I want to immerse myself in her world, to feel as she did.

And when she becomes undead...I want all the more to know what it was like for her, because even though I have depicted such events in other books, I bear in mind that vampires differ from being to being as all beings do.

Annabelle, The Doll From The Conjuring; WHAT IS IT ABOUT HER?!

Really, why do dolls scare us sometimes? When I saw her in The Conjuring I knew I'd love the film and I do! Take her away, and I still love it. But she is 'scare insurance.' !!!

Before I give you my review, here are just a few thoughts on scary dolls: I think they are scary or can be so easily because they are passive. Dolls are child-like and children should be sweet and innocent looking. When representations of them are not, it's unsettling as in very.

Annabelle is one creepy doll. I would not sleep in the same house with that doll. I really wouldn't. She looks like she's about to jump out at you. That spindly glass case won't hold her. No way, she'd be in your face in a second. And then you'd be finished. In fact, you might even be lucky if she did finish you off, because there's so much more she could do!

Okay, so--The Conjuring Review:

Real-life psychic investigators, Ed and Lorraine Warren are central to this film.

Three people tell them about their experiences with Annabelle--a doll that is supposed to be possessed. This is three years before the time our story is set in.

In 1971, Carolyn and Roger Perron move into a dilapidated, old farmhouse in Harrisville, Rhode Island with their five daughters. During the first day, the family are there everything is fine except, the dog, Sadie refuses to go into the house.

Well, that's when I'd have turned around and left. Honest. First of all, I wouldn't have had my dogs sleep outside. Yes, I know they are both spoiled and we love them that way. Seriously, animals sense things that humans don't very often. So if they look creeped out there's a reason! They know stuff!

Ah, but the Perrons don't pay attention to Sadie at their peril. That's capital 'P', peril.

The scary stuff begins. The hide and clap game they play is really terrifying.There was such menace when the game was played, it was palpable. Still, the family go to bed even though poor Sadie is barking outside. Then something is pulling at one of the kid's feet. Very unsettling!

The next morning, Sadie is found dead and Carolyn (the mom) has mysterious bruises on her back, then all over! And if that isn't weird, she hears clapping when there's no one there. One daughter sleepwalks--but really all she does is stand at a wardrobe banging her head.

Eventually, Ed and Lorraine Warren, noted paranormal investigators are called in. Something's going on they say. A bad spirit has latched onto to the family. That's most unsettling to hear and what with the dead dog, bruises, clapping noises and one sleepwalking kid banging her head on the wardrobe door--well I'd have been out of there, wouldn't you have been?

There was one scene that was so scary (and I don't scare easily) I nearly screamed. In fact I think I did because my dog ran over to comfort me! Not telling you because it would spoil the scare!

Okay, the psychic investigators determination is they need an exorcism but further evidence and approval from the Catholic Church is needed in order for this to take place.

The Warrens begin to research the house and find the horrific accounting of a supposed witch. I mean this woman was caught by her husband as she was sacrificing their week old infant. This cannot be postpartum depression;  no way, right?

There have actually been (and I checked on this, see bottom of post) a lot of murders and suicides--in this farmhouse that is still standing. That is more than creepy. Just saying.

Our paranormal investigators dutifully set up thermal cameras to gain evidence for an official exorcism.

Things are alright for a while but then the sleepwalking--head banging daughter starts up again and doors slam--worse than that is the scene where Lorraine sees spirits of people the witch (Bathsheba) has possessed. This was a bitch of a witch. Not a nose wrinkling cute Elizabeth Montgomery, either!

At one point mom Carolyn goes nuts and tries to attack her own daughters. There is more immediacy because of this so Ed performs the Exorcism himself while Carolyn is restrained. Lorraine is able to temporarily distract the possessed Carolyn from killing her daughter by reminding her of a special memory she shared with her family, allowing Ed to complete the exorcism, saving Carolyn and April.

Ironically the priest does finally get permission but it's all been resolved. No ghost busters needed.

Now, there is more. In fact there is a great site about the hauntings and mysterious deaths, murders, suicides reported in this farmhouse over the years! I kid you not! Be sure to visit the link below.

And there is actually information about Annabelle--well it was a Raggedy Ann doll, you see. Of course nothing can beat Annabelle for pure scare.

The picture above comes from History Hollywood. Please visit the link it's got an amazing amount of information:

http://www.historyvshollywood.com/reelfaces/conjuring.php

With regard to the doll--although unrelated to this film and the story depicted, there is a connection with the Warrens on a separate case in 1970.

VAMPIRES ON THE MOORS

99 cents on offer!

"I stole out to the moors in the direction of the altar stone. I stood there for some moments wondering where they had all gone, but then I noticed what looked like a tunnel. I could hear laughter and talking--screams and other sounds too, coming from somewhere deep inside. I decided to see what was happening.

It was dark but there were candles about. I continued on toward the sound. People moved about somewhere close by, sending flickering shadows along the walls ahead of me.

Creeping along a little more I saw chambers—enclosed areas filled with cushions and people… people doing things to one another.

I didn’t realize what they were doing at first but then I did, and I nearly cried out. Handsomely dressed men and women lay prostrate on the makeshift beds, offering their necks, their arms, their bodies, so that their mates – black-clothed figures – could bite into their flesh and drink their blood!

I watched in horror while the victims moaned with ecstasy while the predators licked the flowing blood from their skin. They loved it so much, they called out for the most indecent things to be done to them.

Then the clothing was discarded and men and women in all sorts of combinations began to pleasure one another.

Meanwhile they continued to feast on one another, and those they feasted on were screaming their delight!

I turned to run, but someone grabbed me. I managed to break free, and started to run as fast as I could.

I did finally emerge back onto the moors, only to be grabbed again and pushed to the ground. A girl held me down, a girl I recognized, a girl whose chin was caked in blood.
She was Imogene, the nasty one from the club. She reached for me and bent over me. “I will show you pleasure, I will show you worlds you cannot imagine!”

“No! No!” I cried, somehow managing to break away from her. I ran again as fast as I could. She chased after me but suddenly stopped to sniff the air. She then fell upon the ground.

At first I didn’t realize what she was doing, I only understood when she looked up and smiled. “Virgin blood, sweet to the taste!”
I don’t remember screaming. All I know is I was soon surrounded by a sea of anxious faces."

(end of excerpt)

Amazon 

99 cents on offer! 

~Top 10 Books 2013, All Things Fantasy

~*~

~efestival of words 2014 winner, Best Villain Eco Best Horror 

The House on Blackstone Moor

~*~

"Worth its weight in blood."
~INDIE READER

~*~

I for one found this gloriously gothic, refreshingly brutal, honestly horrific and a great read.
~Taliesin Meets the Vampires

"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER

~*~

ANOTHER FREE STORY FOR HALLOWEEN!

Miss Fern and the Jack O’ Lantern

Miss Fern taught elementary school. She was one of those spinster types—a tall, reedy woman with hooded eyes and a bit of a beaky nose.

She had thin lips that never smiled and a face that had never worn a lick of makeup; her dresses were too long and her legs too thin.

She was the kind of person who wrote outraged letters to newspapers and dreamed of making citizens' arrests.

She told people off in stores for queue jumping, admonished teenagers for speaking too loudly--she was always complaining about something.

In short, she was one huge, monumental pain in the ass.

On the last day of her life she woke at 6, scolded the cat for dripping milk on the floor (only three drops), had a dry slice of toast with weak tea, got dressed and went to school where she would sadistically torture (as usual) little Timmy Meeks and anyone else she felt like giving holy hell to.

Compensation.

Yes, people like Miss Fern did compensate for their lack of humanity and for their prejudice and nastiness.

They were losers in life who sought to feel better about themselves by striving to make as many people as miserable as they could.

She had her favorites to pick on but the most fun was targeting little Timmy. Perhaps it was his thick glasses and buck teeth or it might have been something else, like his timidity or the fact that everyone knew his father beat him. Whatever it was, Miss Fern picked on him the most.

“If Timmy Meeks can give us his attention for a moment…We’re not interrupting you; Mr. Meeks from studying your stubby fingers are we?”

He would answer her without ever being fresh because if he didn't it might all end in a visit to the Principal and Mrs. Wadd was nearly as bad as Miss Fern because she thought Miss Fern was ‘a great teacher of the old school.’

Now on this, the last Halloween morning Miss Fern was ever going to see; it happened to be quite sunny and mild. And because it was so warm, the attendants at Briarcliff Care Home were lax. Two of them actually failed to lock the facility up properly.

Desmond Oliver the night porter didn’t lock up nor did Jess Cummings the day supervisor.

Lester Muggs realized it and as crazy as he was made a dash for it.

He just darted across the lawn, stealing some clothes off a clothesline and went on his way.

He had been in Briarcliff ever since he had murdered his mother.

He was declared unfit to stand trial. He really was unfit because he actually was more of a gentle giant than a murderer; he just wasn’t wrapped quite tightly enough.

The day passed with Lester stealing pies off window sills and some fruit off a vegetable stand.

By dusk he was beginning to notice all the children out and about in their Halloween costumes. He smiled and nodded for there in the far reaches of his muddled mind he recalled the holiday of candy and fun.

The thing that struck him most was how great the pumpkins looked lit with candles inside.

He wanted one desperately. He finally spotted the perfect one sitting at an open window. As he reached for it someone screeched at him, a woman with a thin, scratchy voice.

"Just what do you think you’re doing?!"

Yes, that’s right it was Miss Fern looking furious and loving every second of it.

“You’re a thief that’s what you are. A thief and nothing else! I’m going to call the police."

It happened while she was on the phone; well actually it happened after she hung up.

Lester crept up on her and she never heard a thing.

She hung up the phone and just as she whirled around to put the fear of god in the thief, she saw the knife.

She opened her mouth to scream but that’s when Lester cut her head off and then went to work on hollowing the head out. After all, he wanted it to look right.

He was still admiring his handiwork when the cops drove up.

They didn’t see it right away; they were staring at the headless corpse. But then they saw the big oafish fellow sitting and pointing toward the windowsill.

“It’s a Jack O' Lantern," he said, "You see?”

And it was. Only it was Miss Fern’s head with a lit candle stuck onto the tongue.

Her dead eyes were glazed and were looking up as if she was waiting for something.

"Happy Halloween," Lester said. “I’ll go with you now. Only I’d like to take my Jack O Lantern too, may I?”

Copyright © Carole Gill 2011     

House of Horrors Anthology contains this and

many more stories!

Amazon  

   

~*~

IT'S ALMOST HALLOWEEN! 

Enjoy! And stay safe! 

                                

Cult Classic: Carnival of Souls!

I don't know about you, but this scared me. I saw it on television when I was a teen and it really frightened me, although the fear factor is more eerie than anything.

The film was independently made on a very low budget but that never infringed upon its popularity. It became a cult classic.

The story is simple. A car crashes off of a bridge. There is a lone survivor (Mary). We see her looking dazed as she comes out of the river. Everything will be fine or will it? She survived, didn't she? Sure, she did. I saw her walk out of the water!

The film is at its most effective when we see what Mary sees. We feel her confusion, her deafness. When she's in a department store and everything goes silent--we feel her isolation and fear.

And when she can't get anything on her car radio but creepy organ music, it's almost too much to bear. The fright level in this film is high and its achieved without violence of any kind. No blood, gore, axes in the head or a copious amount of dead teenagers.

When playing at the church where she was previously hired as organist, she begins to play something the Vicar doesn't like. He asks her to leave.  She's confused because some force was making her play this discordant, weird music.

For further eerie embellishment, there is a ghoulish looking man who keeps following her. He's here there and everywhere. When she goes to see a doctor expecting to get help, creepy man is there. The scene where he turns around in the doctor's chair is beyond scary!

The lead is good. Candace Hilligoss is properly frightened and bewildered and the creepy man could not be better. He was also the director of the film, Herk Harvey.

The dance pavillion at an abandoned resort is used to the greatest effect. I don't want to say more than that, just in case you've miss this, the original and best version. I will say that everything is tied up and there are no loose ends. I don't mind a thought provoking climax to a film or book for that matter but I don't like to be left feeling I was cheated. This film does not cheat. It gives you chills beyond belief.

Shot in black and white, there is great use of shadow to enhance the menace and the utter creepiness. This is one of my all-time fave films. See it and you will see what I mean.

Here's the trailer. Enjoy!

Dormaine G. Author of Occult Fiction! Not To Be Missed!

Author Bio

I may be a nurse by profession but an author by heart. I have been writing stories for many years, both in my head and on paper because I’ve always had a love for books ever since spending Saturdays at the library as a young child. Within a book, the mind can travel to worlds of the imagination and the beyond.


I finally took the plunge and published my first novel last year, a young adult urban fantasy titled Connor and two adult horror short stories tit led Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess and Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess: Soulless . Micco, Anguta’s Reign, a psychological thriller, will be released November 3rd 2014. They are just the beginning of many more books to come as I stay locked up in my office in Colorado spinning more tales

AMAZON

Micco, Anguta’s Reign

Synopsis

Revelation can be a disheartening truth

     Micco, a captivating Native American man with a desirable physique and statuesque features, radiates a mysterious allure. Living on the reservation with his unapproachable father, he doesn’t believe in the old ways and works as a cop in the local town. The only reason he lives on the land is Nara, his childhood friend and the love of his life, who is married to a cruel reservation man.

     Waking up in the heart of a murderous scene, he flees for his life, unfamiliar with his surroundings or how he arrived there. To his horror, he’s assigned to the case. As he works with the local detective, more murders transpire with unusual, terrifying sightings of wolves.

     His behavior starts to drastically change, forcing others to take notice. Although trying to avoid the inevitable, Micco is forced to accept the undesirable truth, unable to fight what has been awakened, and all that he has forgotten is finally revealed. 

Excerpt

     After taking notes, he walked into another room, a bedroom, to catch his breath and inhale cleaner air. Not that it was much better. There were bloodstains on the floor and across the bed. By now the odor clung to his nostrils but at least there were no flies in here.

      He looked around for something, anything that gave a hint that he was here last night. He checked in the closet and took in the bloody sheets. As he bent down to check under the bed, he heard a peculiar sound. He stood up to get a better idea of what it was. It was a scratching noise of some kind coming from inside the room. It sounded familiar but he didn’t know from where or why it was recognizable. Peering around, he couldn’t find the source in any direction.

     Without warning, a blinding, flashing memory of screaming, running and piercing noise took hold of him. He grabbed his head, squeezing it, trying to stop the distorted thoughts. His eyes were blinking uncontrollably. A sharp twinge ran up his back. It was so excruciating that his muscles contracted, contorting with a loss of control. He tried to remain silent, though to no avail. It felt like someone was cutting him open from the back.

    Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

    Micco found himself on the floor, shirt drenched with perspiration, panting like his heart was about to jump out from his chest.

    Holy shit, what was that?

    He stayed there on the cold hardwood floor for a minute, gathering his breath and thoughts. He’d never experienced anything like that before. The full memories were gone but he did recall the screaming.

     A memory from last night? Please don’t make me have to go through that pain every time I remember something.

     Rolling over to get up, he saw a shirt tucked in the corner. It looked familiar; it was his own... 

You will find Dormaine G. online:

Blog: 

Facebook:

Website: 

Amazon author page: 

Halloween Treat: COMPLETE Story from House of Horrors!

GRAPHIC VIOLENCE 

WEIRDEST SHOW ON EARTH

“Tell me somethin’, do you ever get nightmares, you know. About stuff, Hank?”

Hank was fixing his bow tie. He was only three and a half feet tall but when he was dressing for a show he felt like Fred Astaire. He sighed. “Sure, after what we been through. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, well—it’s now that counts, right?”

“Sure is, my friend. Our luck turned around didn’t it? Don’t I always say to look on the bright side?”

It was true. Tommy always helped him. He always would. That was why they were pals. Friends forever—literally.

They were part of a circus. Granted it was small, but it made up for that by its uniqueness. And like any circus, aside from midgets, it had animal acts, performers and clowns. What’s a circus without clowns?

Yup, considering its size, this circus was pretty popular. People like to be entertained. Times were hard in this, the third year of what would come to be known as, the Great Depression. Yet, despite that, people came; all kinds of folks. Rubes and hicks mainly—because they never played the big cities; just small towns. Sebastian said it was better that way. They didn’t want any trouble. Not that they couldn’t handle it and then some.

Yet another show was about to start and the boys were glad. When they heard the brass band start up with Entry of the Gladiators they were in ecstasy. Tommy rubbed his hands. “That’s it. Getting all revved up now, how about you, kid?”

Hank smiled. “Yeah. It’s magic, ain’t it?”

They both laughed heartily at that. When the music stopped they heard Sebastian go into his spiel. “Ladies and Gentleman—prepare yourselves for the best circus show you’ll ever see. . . ”

No hecklers tonight, well one only; some yokel showing off to his girlfriend. The boys could hear him making loud noises and acting like a real smart ass.

The boys got ready for their entrance. Sebastian liked them to come out first and greet the audience, talk to them and get a sense of what kind of folks they were. They liked it too because they enjoyed sniffing the air. People’s blood always smelled so different. It was amazing.

They locked eyes onto the heckler as he was still going strong.

“Could be worse,” Tommy said. “Could be a few of them.”

Just then the heckler called them both runts. Runts, they didn’t like. Runts did more than rankle. But the stupid bastard finally shut up when the clowns made their appearance.

There were three of them. They wore distinctive clown make up. One was sad—there were tears painted under his eyes and his drooping lips were done up artfully. He had learned makeup from another clown he killed and ate. Well, no one’s perfect.

The other two clowns were also uniquely made up. Happy was the jolly one. He had this big ass smile plastered across his face.

Sometimes he had the remains of food stuck in the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, that ain’t lipstick, is it?”

The two other clowns would often tease him.

“Oh shit!” He’d invariably say. “I am a messy eater!”

He was; he often had bits of flesh and blood scattered all over his costume. Lou used to admonish him. In the last town Lou actually found a half-eaten eyeball stuck onto Happy’s oversized shoe. He gave it to him for that. Lou didn’t like to yell but Happy had to get it together.

Still, they remained friends.

The third clown’s make up was more unusual. He was the clowns’ clown. Dave was the one the other two would pretend to pick on. His make-up was very old fashioned. It was the way clowns were made up in medieval times.

All three began to respond to the audience, especially the children.

They’d make these exaggerated motions. They just mimed; they never spoke. One child had already been chosen by one of them because he was fat. Lou loved fat little boys, all dimply and doughy looking. The last boy he had eaten lasted a whole week! Boy oh boy that little tub of lard was tasty. Happy did him up in a special glaze.

Happy liked to cook.

“It’s gonna be a good show,” Lou said—sounding very upbeat. “I can feel it in my bones.”

That’s when the orchestra started up again; just a few notes, after which Sebastian introduced the trapeze act: the great Waldini and his wife.

These acts, from the trick rider and her horse to the trapeze couple, including the brass band as well as the lion tamer and lions, were odd looking, expressionless. They performed well enough though. It was only when you looked closely at them that there was a sense something was radically wrong, as in weird, fucking and odd.

Only one person noticed. He had seen the show a few times, following them from town to town throughout Ohio. He was studying the acts. Something wasn’t right about it; something just stunk about it. He didn’t know what it was, but he was determined to find out. It would make his career as a reporter, he felt sure.

He watched the lion tamer strut out. The guy was attired in a glittering, white outfit; pith helmet, whip and everything. The whip cracked as the tamer barked out commands. The lions growled a few times, nothing remarkable. In fact if anything, they looked bored. It seemed their growls and raised paws didn’t have a sense of realism which was most strange.

The midgets came out next. Dressed as always, very dapper. They wore make up, nothing too theatrical, or clownish. It was just enough to be interesting. Their faces were made up so that they looked like manikins. Their faces were white and their eyelids were lined in black. They wore lipstick and circles of rouge, too—their hair was slicked back like George Raft’s and they flirted a lot with the ladies. They seemed mischievous.

Actually they were interesting to watch because they were animated and lively. The young man didn’t think anything untoward about them or the clowns—not then.

*

They loved chow time. They ate around a big table in Sebastian’s trailer. It had been some movie star’s house car in the twenties. The rumor was it had been Mae West’s. Whatever the story, it was ace.


Everyone loved it particularly, Sebastian. In fact it was his home. He had his own bathroom and kitchen area and bunks too—like plush sofas they were.

The clowns always behaved themselves when they came in. They were always polite and made a real effort to be pleasant.

The boys (Tommy and Hank) were dressed well; they’d shower in the special shower tent before. They were very fastidious; much more so than the clowns. The clowns had to be reminded of personal hygiene periodically, but Sebastian didn’t mind. They were okay guys.

He smiled at the phrase. That was one of the 20th century expressions he loved.

They were all enthused about the town and the show and everyone started speaking at once. Sebastian had a few things to say but he bided his time. He’d save it for last.

He was grinning at them. His gaunt face and pronounced cheekbones gave him a skull-like look sometimes. He could have altered his appearance from the tall, imposing man he was but he didn’t.

Every so often he did, but only if he had to. At last he spoke. “I have a special menu for you guys tonight.” This he said as he revealed a beautiful roast.

The clowns were excited. “Dave said he smelled something cooking earlier. Didn’t you, Dave?”

Dave agreed. “I bet I know what it is!”

Happy and Lou nodded. “He’s been driving us nuts all day. Saying how he can’t wait to bite into a nice fat buttocks. Anyone we know, Sebastian?”

Sebastian started to answer but looked over at Tommy and Hank.

They were looking as though they felt ignored. “Now boys, no one’s forgotten about you.” He said as he handed them two tumblers. “This is fresh, it’s nowhere near clotted.”

They oohed and awed and sniffed the giant tumblers.

“Rich, ruby port! Might we know where that came from?”

Sebastian shook his finger in a good natured but teasing way.

“Don’t pry it’s rude. Let’s just say that heckler paid for calling you guys runts.”

Hank and Tommy clapped their little hands together. “Thank you!” they cried.

Dave wanted to know where the rest of him was.

“He’s been put away for tomorrow’s grub, is that okay?”

Happy and Lou were shaking their heads. “Dave, you gotta cut down on the calories. You’re going to get too fat for your clown suit!”

Tommy started to laugh which only inflamed Lou. Well the clowns and the midgets used to argue, coming to blows occasionally. Of course the midgets always won. They were little, but they were strong as vampires are.

Sebastian gently admonished them. He loved his boys as he called them. They had been tossed around from circus to circus. In the last place they had been, they were beaten constantly. When Sebastian saw them, they were almost dead.

He killed their tormenter, but by that time, they were both gone. He raised them up because he would not see them dead. When they rose up and realized what he had done, they cried. Vampires do that. Sebastian had seen it happen a lot.

He explained it all to them. “You’ll live forever, boys! You’ll never be afraid. You’ll never be harmed or frightened. Isn’t that good?”

Eventually they grew into their undead existence as vampires do.

That was just after the war in Europe. It was 1918 when they were turned.

Sebastian’s circus had grown quite a bit since then. There were the acts he put in. They weren’t real people or animals. They were creations of his sorcery. That was Sebastian’s story. Everyone in a circus has a story.

Tommy was teasing the clowns again. Why the midget picked on them was anybody’s guess. Sebastian didn’t like it. He felt sorry for them because they were life’s victims too, but in a different way.

The three of them were former mental patients. Yes sir, right out of Storeyville, Georgia. They had this sadist bastard of a doctor, Dr. Nichols who liked to do experiments on them. When they had enough of his hole drilling and failed (but painful) attempts at lobotomies—or was it just torture by another name—they escaped; walked right out of that house of horrors.

Sebastian always wondered when they became cannibals. He had asked them but they’d laugh and ‘say never you mind;’ although they did fess up to eating Dr. Nichols and two orderlies.

He told them that it didn’t matter. He said they’d have jobs and a place to stay as long as they liked. Of course they’d have to learn clown stuff. They were eager and in no time were performing perfectly.

Sebastian could see how much they looked up at him. It was because of all that sorcery stuff. He was very accomplished.

It was funny how they found one another. Sebastian caught them ripping open a family of four. The kids were nothing more than ribs and hair but these three guys were still gnawing away on the father and mother when Sebastian called out: “Hey, what are you doing?”

Whereupon the three threatened him. That was when he showed them. He had the remains of their meal rise up from the ground. Up this stuff went, all pieces of flesh and gore–spinning and turning—coming closer and closer to them!

They screamed but Sebastian only laughed and began to taunt them. First by having the gnawed parents begin to dance with one another.

It got so bad that the guys pleaded for him to stop. “What kinda shit is this? Who the hell are you?”

That was what he was waiting for. “I am Sebastian and I come from another place and time.” He told them how he had made a pact with Satan so that he could live forever. “It was easy—I gave up my soul. What the hell did I need it for? It was no use to me. Not during the Black Death it wasn’t. That plague killed one-third of Europe in the fourteenth century.”

He told them how he could raise the dead and make things move.
He often spoke about the many centuries he had lived through.

The midgets were fascinated by stories of the little people and Sebastian never disappointed them. He had a number of special people (he hated the word freaks) he had saved from one circus or sideshow over the years. He came to think of them as family.

*

Even now, these meals were special family dinners. Sebastian ate regular food but the others didn’t. The midgets only subsisted on blood whereas the clowns were meat eaters. Real meat eaters.

It was toward the end of the meal that Sebastian brought the subject up of the young man. That got their attention. In fact, Dave dropped the eye ball he was nibbling and Tommy nearly spilled a goblet of blood. Now that would have stained the table cloth.

“There’s this young man. I don’t know what his racket is, but I find him highly suspicious. I think we will have to deal with him soon.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“No shit.” Hank said.

Sebastian nodded. “The sooner we take care of him, the better.”

*

They found him talking to the lion tamer. It struck the clowns funny and the midgets too, but it didn’t make Sebastian laugh because he was too intent on his purpose.

“May I help you?”

The guy turned around and smiled, albeit nervously. “Is there anything wrong with him?” He asked gesturing toward the blanked-eyed lion tamer. “Is he in a stupor? I mean is he alright?”

Hank and Tommy sauntered up from behind Sebastian. “What’s it to you, bub?”

The man shrugged. “Nothing really,” he smiled, trying to appear casual. But when the three clowns suddenly appeared, he stood up to run.

Flight or fight.

However since it didn’t look like he’d get away, he tried to reason.
“I’m a reporter. . . I’d like to do a feature story on your circus.
That’s all. . . ”

“No kidding!” the clowns replied in unison. Then they all turned to look at Sebastian.

“We can’t afford any publicity. It’s just the way it is, the way it’s always been. Let me explain... ”

*

The last thing he saw were the teeth. Long, yellow teeth sharpened to a fine point. They were covered in his blood. He knew that because he felt so weak.


Still, he hadn’t been conscious most of the time they were feeding. And really he started to weaken when the midgets were draining him. They assured him they wouldn’t kill him though because the clowns hated dried-out food.

When they said that, he screamed. Naturally it didn’t help him.

Sebastian liked a good screamer, and so did his guys. After all, they worked hard to put on a good show and they liked some entertainment in return. Why not?

Sebastian waved his arms and the toy-like circus performers rose up from wherever they were: the lion tamer, the lions, the horse and rider, even the great Waldini and his wife. They rose as the toys they were, created by Sebastian’s sorcery.

He nodded toward the brass band to start playing. It was amazing. All those toys—obeying as they did. Sure enough, the circus music started, Entry of the Gladiators, Sebastian’s favorite.

The lively tune boomed out, masking the reporter’s agonized screams. In fact as he slipped into the great and vast beyond, he smiled because the closer he got to death the more he didn’t mind. And really, whatever came after this had to be a whole lot better... "

Copyright   ©  2013   Carole Gill

This story inspired my new novel, Circus of Horrors!

AMAZON

It's just one of the stories in:

House of Horrors 

100k words of terror!

AMAZON

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!