dark side thursday

A glimpse into Darkside Thursday

It lay before him

The charred remains of a hollowed out corpse. He looked down in bewilderment, eyes wide and frantic and he turned to see the empty auditorium.
I watched him in the dim light, his face awash with confusion. I almost felt sorry for him as he sunk to his knees and placed his head in his hands……almost.

If I hold my breath and strain my ears I can just about hear the low sobs. The slow gulps of realisation catching in his throat, the raspy whisper of his voice repeatedly stating ‘what have I done, what have I done’. Like a mantra he repeats this to himself, rocking back and forth as if this will somehow force him to regain his memory. Clearly this is not going to work for him, I chuckle to myself as I push up the lever.
With a click and a whirring the spotlight hits the stage highlighting the mutilated corpse and forcing him to spring to his feet.

“Who is it? Who’s there?”

His face drained of colour as he frantically looked around. Searching for an answer, searching for the spotlight’s operator…searching for me

Something for Darkside Thursday – To catch up with Andy’s latest darkside then click HERE


Darkside Thursday – Flash fiction

I think of him sometimes, late at night when the world falls silent.

The day he turned up in his new yellow soft top sporting a leather jacket, and the after effects of just for men. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he informed me of his lottery win, and sudden acknowledgement of our ‘relationship issues’.

I’m sure you thought that young Stacey would help you work those through…

You got your fame though, when they pulled your car from the riverbed, they said you should have paid a mechanic to check the new car, that the brakes had failed, they were sorry.

I was sorry too.

Sorry that I didn’t heed your brother’s warnings sooner.

Still the money will come in handy as we take the around the world trip in your memory.

And you are still in my memory, I do think of you sometimes.

The car etched in memory, like a canary, being pulled underwater bobbing for a second and taking its last frantic gasp of air.

The smell of brake fluid still lingers.

My contribution for Darkside Thursday

Darkside Thursday – flash fliction

Stranger in the attic

I don’t know how long it has been since I last got a full night’s sleep.

How can I sleep when I know all the while that he is just there, right above me. Looking at me through the cracks in the floorboards when he thinks that I’m not looking. I see it sometimes, his eyeball pressed against the small chink in the ceiling. It peers at me accusingly, I look up sometimes and catch him. A wild pupil set in a sea of tepid blue, an iris that somehow changes from this to calm grey when the light reflects through the tiny window. When the early morning breeze drifts into the dingy room and he allows the peace to take over his anger.

I feel him watching me as I curl up on the mattress with a book, attempting to follow the words, be taken away by a story. Anything to get my mind away from him.

Sometimes I hear him scratching around up there, I try not to think about what he is doing, what he is plotting. I just want to think about the good things he does for me, and how in those instances he makes me happy, oh so happy.

Yet when I hear him banging on the floorboards and shouting in his mother tongue, he sounds so much more violent then. When he curses me with his words that make no sense to my ear, I still understand the tone implied, I know these are threats he is issuing. And on those days I keep my distance.
On those days I lift up my violin and raise its voice to block out any bad noise. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life, I don’t want to have to revisit the centre again. The medication never really helped, it only blocked my senses.
Only made me numb

Of course the tantrums don’t last forever, on some level he knows that I need him and even when he takes out his annoyance with me he knows that I will still care for him. I will still carry up that tray of lovingly prepared food and his favourite hot chocolate to help calm him. At some point he will have to sleep and then I can relax. Placing the tray quietly in the doorway to his room, I have to make a run for the stairs in case he catches me again. The bruises get harder to explain away.

So I wait a while until all falls silent and I creep back up to the attic to find a half empty mug scraped clean of any floating marshmallows.
And only then do I know that it is safe.

Stepping over his limp sleeping body, I open the stiff window a crack, just enough to let the breeze trickle through. I study his face whilst he sleeps, so adorable with his velvet plump lips and chiselled jaw. Cautiously I reach out to stroke his short hair that feels soft under my fingertips, I like that fuzzy feeling that it gives me. Then I prod him firmly, and again to make sure he is really at peace before I curl up against him, feeling his slow heavy heartbeat against my cheek.
I so enjoy these moments, just two people alone in the world, thrown together by fate.

I smile at that and think about how glad I am to have opened the door for the delivery that fateful morning.

And as I tighten the bolt on his ankle chain I wonder if the neighbours have started to question the truck parked on the driveway yet.



A little late being pinned up, but better late than never eh 😀

Check out other Darkside Thursday links HERE

My Cold Hearted Boyfriend

He lies beside me at night
As I write the words which sustain me
The noises he makes sometimes distracting
Causing me to look up from my work
Or my useless crap
(as he liked to call it)

Sometimes I move too sudden
And he presses his damp skin on mine
Forcing me to give him a push
To keep him at bay
A little love shove

Then I can carry on
Typing up my masterpiece
Immune to his judgemental silence
And vacant stare

Once I had writers block
Asked for help
Yet he only wanted to sleep
His raspy breath on my arm
Echoes of snuffling and snoring
Reverberating in my ears
Forcing my words to hide
My eyelid to twitch
My knuckles to crack

He doesn’t snore anymore
Though he still lingers
Like a bad smell

Inspired for Darkside Thursday

Flight of the Mothman

Today I saw a wondrous sight
A guy I knew changed overnight
His body grew both thick and round
And sported fur in hues of brown
He made no sound except the pop
As two stalks sprouted from his top
Eyes that stretched to bulbous black
Two lumps growing on his back
In this he didn’t seem surprised
Appeared to like his new disguise
And as I backed away from him
He turned to me and gave a grin
I screamed at this horrific sight
And as he moved towards the light
I threw the window open wide
Then tried to find a place to hide
Yet still I watched him in my fright
Wings outspread, into the night

I thought I would cheat a bit and use a poem already written to tag onto this weeks dark side Thursday via the inspirational prompt from Andy Townend

Check out his awesome chilling tale from the darkside here