Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Haunting & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #204 – Filter
their cries are haunting me
i wish i could filter out
or at least dim the torment
of the wailing
of those not yet pronounced dead
hopefully soon
shrieks reduced to whimpers
then silence
on hallow’s eve
With a tight grip on the flashlight, I pushed open the door. The creaking would unhinge even the strongest of thrill-seekers. Stepping inside the room, every hair on my head stood at attention, my breathing stilled to small, rapid intakes of air. I was afraid. While my ears and eyes were laser-focused on the creepy surroundings, the nauseating stench of rot filled my nostrils.
I lost my ability to remain calm as the light beam revealed mountains of hacked-up bodies; blood trails everywhere.
“You’re next,” whispered the voice behind me.
I could only gurgle as the knife sliced my throat.
We had to contain the risk of this getting out, or we faced a public catastrophe, like the psychic predicted would happen in her premonition. Silently and solemnly, the officers took their places behind the crime scene tape when the forensic team arrived.
The LAPD had seen several cases of torture previously, but none had created such widespread panic. A quick scan of all the officer’s faces told the Captain there would be no peace until they had apprehended this killer.
Forensics checked for traces of DNA on the remains, hoping for biological stories about the perp. There were none.
She’d had enough.
His end was near, didn’t know it though. He was clueless.
Her knuckles tightened around the elegantly shaped wine glass. Instinct and rage fueled the glass crashing into the side of the table. Only one crescent-shaped shard fell away.
It was the perfect edge to damage a pulsing artery.
She gracefully, furiously, lunged for the side of his throat. His vital organ cut wide-open. A rhythmic stream began pumping out, gushing blood down and out over his body. With stunned horror, he gripped his throat to stop the bleeding.
She watched, fascinated, as he was dying.
Originally published on IWH May 20, 2018
Samantha died on April 26, 2019. It was shocking to her family and friends. She hadn’t even been ill, seriously or otherwise. The coroner ruled it was natural causes. His department had run all kinds of tests to rule out foul play. Nothing was remotely shady. Samantha just expired. That seemed odd for she was only 25 years old. He obviously couldn’t figure out exactly why she had died. Amateur.
And then her supernatural apparition appeared to me.
How on earth did Samantha know that I would find the one thing that would kill her and not leave any clues?
led by a hateful man
many people
did ghoulish things
new demons
walk among us
today
sheep
repeating history
for a hateful man
She’d had enough.
His end was near, didn’t know it though. He was clueless.
Her knuckles tightened around the elegantly shaped wine glass. Instinct and rage fueled the glass crashing into the side of the table. Only one crescent-shaped shard fell away.
It was the perfect edge to damage a pulsing artery.
She gracefully, furiously, lunged for the side of his throat. His vital organ cut wide-open. A rhythmic stream began pumping out, gushing blood down and out over his body. With stunned horror, he gripped his throat to stop the bleeding.
She watched, fascinated, as he was dying.
I Write Her 