Press Releases

Administrator

Mailbox

You are not logged in.

Featured Links

Banner
Banner
Banner
Banner
Banner
Funny Shirts

Shock your friends with these cool t-shirts from T-Shirt Hell!
Make Money Selling Shirts!

Get $5 for every shirt you sell!
Awesome shirts from T-Shirt Hell

Scream Cloud

Screams of Terror - If it's Horror, it's Worth Screaming About!

 

UPDATE: New Movie Review Here: Vampire Girl vs Frankenstien Girl Go check it out!

 
Red Moon Rising – Part 3 PDF Print E-mail
(1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Written by Richard A. Valicek   
Thursday, 25 February 2010 09:20

Chapter 19

The Undead of St. Peters Monastery

In the dark night, Dragus, Andromin, and Umfenus made their way to the monastery of St. Peter. They circled around the grounds before coming across the gates on which there was a sign: “Monastery closed due to re-construction”. The gates were chained, which seemed unusual. It was rare to deny access to a house of God.

“That’s very odd,” said Dragus, truly puzzled.

“Not really,” said Umfenus. “It would make things easier for the vampires to feed if it were open, perhaps. But I wonder of the caretakers. Where are they? Or is it that Bombidus and his two followers are responsible for taking care now?”

“If that is so, what would have happened to those who normally take care of the holy sanctuary?” asked Andromin. The three of them suddenly feared that something evil may have happened to the caretakers. Andromin drew his claymore and drove it between the chains. When they snapped and fell to the ground, the men opened the gate and proceeded toward the monastery doors, which opened easily. They lit candles from their packs and entered, the Seatons keeping one hand over their swords and Umfenus leading the way.

They proceeded silently down the sanctuary’s isle. It was terribly quiet inside, with only the sound of their footsteps on the stone. “Look at that,” whispered Dragus, pointing at the windows. Every last single stained glass window had been painted black.

“That’s very strange. That would mean no natural light could come in during the day,” said Andromin. “Why would they do that?”

“Now stay silent, not a word,” whispered Umfenus.

They crept up the isle with their candles, squinting into the darkness. The church looked as though it hadn’t been used in a long time; dust lay thickly over every surface and cobwebs had been spun in the corners of the pews.

“Dragus,” whispered Andromin so quietly he was nearly inaudible.

“What?”

“There are no cross. Look. No crosses anywhere.” The three men looked around and at the altar where a crucifix should have stood, yet only an outline in dust remained.

Umfenus lead them to a staircase that went down into the basement. The candlelight flickered and cast their three shadows upon the wall. Further down a large shadow appeared from the corner of the staircase wall. The figure was that of someone hunched over. Umfenus and the Seatons halted and looked around them. There was nowhere to hide. The shadow drew closer. “Men,” said Umfenus, “we may be in trouble.”

Suddenly the shadowy figure revealed itself; it was a man. He rushed at them so they were face to face. He snarled and drew his dagger. Andromin immediately jumped at him. The man swung his arm, and Andromin caught his arm in his hand and struggled with him, but the man was strong, and as their struggle intensified, the dagger came more and more dangerously close to Andromin.

Andromin bellowed and with a surge of adrenalin, he shoved the man down the staircase. In his tumble to the bottom, he fell on his own dagger. The Seatons and Umfenus rushed down the stairs to see him wounded. Dragus knelt down to assess the wound. “It’s very deep,” he said to his companions. The man struggled to keep his eyes open; blood was forming a pool beneath him.

“Sir, who are you? Why did you attack us?” asked Dragus.

“I, I am Flarus. Keeper of the undead.”

“Flarus, where is Bombidus?”

“He is, he is…” The man gasped for breath. “Prepare for the salvation. Soon, soon all of…” He gasped, struggling to breathe. “The Master is…” His head dropped back and his eyes rolled into his head. He shuddered and let out his last breath. Dragus gently put the man’s head down.

“We must hide him,” said Umfenus. “Pick up the body.” Dragus picked up the body, and followed Umfenus down into the underground crypt. Halfway down the corridor they came to a doorway and cautiously entered a great hall filled with hundreds of caskets. Dragus opened up a casket; it was empty. He laid Flarus’ body inside and closed the lid. The great hall of caskets was lit by thousands of flickering red candles. At the far end of the room sat a large organ on a stage surrounded by red curtains.

Suddenly the organ began to play. The music startled Umfenus and the Seaton brothers. On the stage was a man playing the organ. Dragus, Andromin and Umfenus immediately started toward the stage. Andromin and Dragus looked at one another; from behind, the man playing the organ resembled Bombidus.

They went around to the front of the stage, and so close up, the Seatons knew unequivocally that this man was Bombidus. Dragus called out to the man. “Bombidus Barrons!”

Bombidus struck his last cord and smiled at his audience before turning back to playing his organ. Umfenus and the Seatons walked up the stage stairs and flanked Bombidus at the organ: Andromin to the right and Dragus and Umfenus to his left. “Hello, Bombidus,” said Dragus, waving his hand in front of Bombidus’ face. “What is going on here?”

“Hello, my friends,” replied Bombidus pleasantly. “So, you have come to join us,” he smiled. “Splendid, splendid!” Bombidus raised his hands off the key board for a moment, then began a different tune.

Dragus looked at the others. “Bombidus, why are you doing this? What madness has driven you?”

Bombidus continued to play. “What could be better than to join the coming of the new age? An age when all our brothers and sisters shall unite and live as one.”

Andromin understood and his face fell. “You mean die and be reborn as the undead,” he said.

Bombidus smiled. “Why, Andromin, you catch on quickly!”

“We have come to stop your madness,” replied Andromin.

“Bombidus, please, search your feelings; you cannot do this,” said Dragus. “Come, let us take you home. If you help us destroy these vampires, you will be granted immunity.”

“The few of us who have entered the world of darkness will be given peace in the light of God,” said Umfenuss.

“Few?” asked Bombidus. He chuckled. “Look behind you, my friends.” Dragus, Andromin, and Umfenus turned around and were astonished to see over one hundred vampires hovering in mid air above the caskets.

“Holy mother of God!” exclaimed Dragus. Bombidus stopped his organ playing. The Seatons watched as the vampires headed toward the far off doors. They went into the night to find more victims – for followers.

“What are we doing? We just let them fly off into the night!” yelled Dragus over the din of wings.

“We must stop them at once!” shouted Andromin.

“It is too late. They have gone into the night to seek more followers,” said Umfenus. “It seems we had our chance, but we were distracted by Bombidus’ organ playing.”

“Yes, Bombidus-” They turned to the organist, but he had disappeared. “Damn it, we had him!” said Andromin.

“We must take a new course of action,” said Dragus. “There is nothing we can do now. Tomorrow we must confront Queen Aminova and tell her what has transpired here.”

“Quickly then, we must go,” said Umfenus. The Seatons and Umfenus ran from the stage and past the caskets. From inside one of the caskets, Bombidus watched them head toward the doors and out into the night. Bombidus closed his casket and went to sleep.

 

Last Updated on Thursday, 25 February 2010 09:24
 
Gone Wicked (Please... help me stop) chapter 12 PDF Print E-mail
(19 votes, average: 4.89 out of 5)
Written by Jay Villain   
Sunday, 14 February 2010 14:46

 

Chapter 12

 

When looking into the eyes, one can look into their reflection and see what the eyes see, or one can look deeper and go past the reflection to see beyond oneself.

Surprisingly, there was very little struggle, the night watchman showed almost no resistance at all as he was being led like a chained animal. With a bag over his head and restrained he's able to move just enough to walk, he's become the most compliant of them all.

"I'm sure by now, you're probably wondering where I'm taking you."

Nothing is heard in response, only the sound of footsteps on dirt and gravel fill the air. They arrive at an old abandoned cemetery after walking about ten minutes from the car. The cemetery has been neglected for so many years that all the tombstones are badly weather beaten and many can no longer be read. There's no living family members left to maintain the grounds due to the bloodlines of the deceased going so far back.

They walk to the back of the cemetery into a deeply wooded area. The night watchman is made to sit and is then bound to the tall rusty iron gates. Pulling the bag from his head reveals a badly beaten man in his late fifties, he's been gagged and can barely be heard as he begins to plead with a muffled voice.

"What...? What do you want? I've done nothing to you; I don't even know who you are."

"Take a good look." Cindy's killer says as he looks into the eyes of the watchman. "You still don't recognize me? I was part of your daughters search party, although I wasn't there when her remains were found, I was part of the volunteers during the initial search. I assisted just enough to get to know everything about you and your wife. That's how I found out that you're a rent a cop for construction sites, that your job is to make sure no one steals supplies or vandalizes anything on the job site while everyone's at home sleeping."

Looking confused and barely able to lift his head he replies. "Haven't I been through enough?"

"I can't believe you'd ask that with a straight face."

With a calm tone and in an almost therapeutically relaxing way he reveals a tragic secret. "I want you to look out in the distance, past the trees, see what appears to be disturbed earth? Grass has grown over some of the older ones but I know you can see them. Guess what those are? Each one is a little girl that I helped put there. I say helped because you and parents like you, as I previously explained to the newspaper, act as an accomplice every time a child is abducted. I've sent letters to the papers explaining this and still it continues, do you not read the papers? You're a night watchman, all you have is time to read! Wait, you sleep... that's how you find yourself here isn't it?

I see, you let your job down just as you let down your child, I guess that saying is true; The ignorant are many and the brilliant are few. Because that seems to be what the majority do these days, fail to live up to their promises, to their jobs and to their loved ones alike."

Getting upset by the implications, the night watchman responds angrily. "I've always been there for my daughter, I've never done her any harm!"

"In your daughters case it's not what you did but what you failed to do! You failed to tell her the truth, you let her think there's no monsters out there when clearly you know that to be false! It's downright cruel! Your daughter let her guard down and she's obviously suffered the consequences because of it. And your wife, talk about complacency. Believe me if it wasn't for her need to be in the spotlight, it would be her sitting here instead of you. It appears she can't get a moment alone, or maybe that's by choice; she seems to be enjoying the newfound attention she's been getting.

It was what she said, when you both were on that reality crime stoppers show pouring your hearts out to the public that got my attention, and I'd like to add your wife is looking pretty good in front of the cameras despite her daughters remains just recently being found; a bit too well composed for my liking.

But when she said that children are stubborn, it's as if she's putting blame on the child when in fact you're both guilty of not telling her the one thing that would have saved her life.

I've seen pictures of your daughter, she was a very... very sweet looking girl, about eighteen I believe. One can't help but notice how much like a woman she'd become and don't tell me you hadn't noticed either. Judging from the look on your face I can tell you've gone out of your way to make sure your wife wasn't around. Maybe she wouldn't be too happy to catch you looking at your daughter like that...? Maybe?

I know what you're thinking and no. I had nothing to do with her murder, I admit, I do have a fondness for younger girls though."

Looking down at him he pushes the watchman with his foot. "Her friends said on the news that she went off by herself and was never seen after that. Once again you knew how tempting your daughter looked and with that in mind, when she went off with her friends for the weekend you didn't think it would've been a good idea to teach her about the buddy system?

That rule always applies but especially when your daughter looked the way yours did. Let's face it, she's only going to attract the eyes of every guy in the room everywhere she goes, and you didn't see fit to tell her to never go anywhere alone?

I want you to really look out there." Pointing out to the makeshift graves. "Every girl out there is where they are simply because they were alone.

Your daughter was misled and uninformed and your wife attempts to shift blame, that's what most parents of missing children both older and younger have in common, shifting the blame. I happen to know first hand that if children knew there were sharks in the water they wouldn't go swimming."

For the first time, Cindy's killer sees nothing in his victims eyes, no will at all.

"Aren't you concerned about what I'm going to do with you? Why aren't you scared?" He pulls the gag down away from the watchman's mouth. "Do you not fear me?"

Answering softly with not a shred of emotion. "I no longer care about my own life. There's nothing you can do to me that would surpass the pain I've felt and continue to feel when I think about what happened to my daughter."

Sarcastic and without pity. "You probably should've been proactive and a bit more attentive then."

He's never experienced this before, confused by the night watchman having no will to live, he thinks out loud as he paces. "What's the point of killing someone that wants to die? I'm not here to do you any favors." He turns and looks at the watchman. "You were supposed to die and for your wife's complacency, her torment was going to be absolute loneliness."

Seeming to be at a loss and not knowing what to do next, he contemplates letting the night watchman go. However, something suddenly distracts him as he looks around quickly. "Did you hear that?" He waits a moment... "There it is again."

With the look of confusion the watchman looks around, he hears only the wind and says nothing.

"It's a girls voice I hear in the wind" Cindy's killer continues. "Why does it sound so familiar? Why do I know that..."

He abruptly stops speaking as an image appears before him, not sure if the vision is actually before him or in his mind he begins to swat the air as if chasing away an annoying insect. The beautiful image of Cindy, the young girl he once loved stands before him at the site of where so many young girls lay gone but not forgotten.

Captivated by Cindy and totally oblivious to the watchman, he slowly reaches out. The apparition goes from angelic innocence to a hideously mutating vision of that same little girl.

Kneeling down he shouts as he puts his hands over his face. "You're not really here, get out of my mind!"

The night watchman still confined to the fence is now starting to look scared. The appearance of anyone losing their mind in front of you, reacting to what appears to not be there would make anyone scared, even the suicidal.

The image of Cindy becomes more and more vile. Throughout all of his self inflicted horrors, even he has never beheld something so nauseatingly horrid. Moving erratically in circles with his hands and arms over his head, he takes off running in the direction of the girl's makeshift graves. Tortured by what he'd just seen he begins to stumble and trip over his own feet, eventually falling over one of the graves and landing on the hunting knife in his jacket pocket.

The night watchman having no knowledge of the knife, stares in complete amazement. In the distance he sees Cindy's killer trip and fall but never getting up, a slight struggle on the ground but then nothing, not even a twitch.

The watchman tries his best to free himself but has no luck after a brief battle with the chains that bind him. So many thoughts now running through his mind as he looks on at the lifeless figure in the distance.

After what seems to be an hour or so, something walks out of the woods and sits a good distance in front of him. A feral cat, black in color with the most yellow eyes; eyes that seem as bright as spotlights. Time goes by and the two stare at each other while the sun begins to fade. As the sun disappears the cat's eyes gradually lose their vibrant color and eventually turn into black glowing reflections of the moonlight. Only during the night the cat would seem to go away for a while and then return. The watchman isn't quite sure if the cat actually left because when a black cat closes it's eyes in the dark it seems to disappear, when the eyes open it seems to reappear.

Samantha and Daria never regain consciousness and as the evenings expire, so does the night watchman.

Just as the deceased are liked to those that took their lives, they're also linked of course to those that gave them life.

Less than a week later, following the death of the night watchman, Cindy's mother sits on the porch of their home looking at a family photo album after dinner. A sudden chill along with a cooling breeze gets her attention almost taking her breath away. She experiences a sensation like never before and all her senses are heightened by a euphoric energy that can't be seen only felt. She picks her head up from looking down at the photo album, in the dark are black glowing reflections of the moonlight now watching her from across the street.

 

The End.

 

 

Last Updated on Thursday, 04 March 2010 21:29
 

Donate

Help Support Screams of Terror Magazine!
We are currently asking for donations to help ease the operating costs of the site. If you can help us out we thank you in advance!
Donate:
  Monthly Monthly
Currency
Amount

You are not logged in.

There are
left until Halloween!

Members Online

No users online
Guests: 673

Whos Chatting

No users online

New Members

MichealTracy offline 2010-03-13
essie12 offline 2010-03-12
   

Current Polls

Whos your favorite horror bad guy?
 

Top Reviews

  1. 5.0
  2. 5.0
  3. 5.0
  4. 5.0
  5. 5.0

Latest Comments

  • What an amazing story, it took me down a road i've... More...
  • "The End" and im still on the edge of my seat expe... More...
  • WOW. Dude very cool. although I'am sorry to see th... More...
  • very well done my friend! Love it! :lol: More...
  • A trip into the human mind! Or should say the dark... More...

More Links