Posts Tagged ‘werewolves’

The world was awash in visceral colors, red, always red the primary. Fear was thick in the air and panic. The night was alive with the cries of the terrified, the hurting and the dying, the dying and the dmaned. Shrieking screams cut suddenly to gasping and gurgling of their last breaths, while people screamed and ran, pushed and shoved, like cattle in a last stampede. Dante’s Inferno would have pictured the scenes here, over six-hundred years later. Modern America wasn’t ready for the ending of days. But then, no one really is.


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The world doesn’t end with a whimper. It’s loud and scary, with people screaming and blood. So much blood. When survivors would look back and they would, they would remember the color of red, dripping and the sounds of screams, horrifying and high-pitched, filled with abject terror. No one would believe it, no one could believe it. And that silly belief system got them killed.

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I come from a long line of body snatchers, probably the top-notch body snatchers in America. No, make that the world. Some people might think it’s gross digging up bones or corpses, but who asked them? It’s no big deal, but then I’ve been doing it since I got out of diapers.

On Amazon books

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Generally speaking, witches’ parties are no fly-by-night things.

1. Never insult a witch at the party, no matter what she says; you could be turned into a frog.
2. (Number 1 leads to this one) Don’t eat the frog legs – you might be eating someone you know.
3. Skip the punchbowl, unless you like eye of newt or bat wings, etc.
4. If some witch asks how you clean your kitchen floor, say a mop or vacuum. Brooms are a no-no since they are touchy about anyone using their travel mode for such menial labor. Think of a BMV mopping the floor.
5. Avoid any witch discussing magic spells with a twitching nose or one with a cold who sneezes – who knows, you might end up in Hades or Timbuktu.

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1.  Dress up as a tree for Halloween or a fire hydrant

2.  Give him your cheek to kiss, he might take out your neck

3.  Necking is definitely out

4.  Throw a stick  (makes them mad-insults their dignity)

5.  Invite them in on your white carpet on a rainy day

6.  If they try to hump your leg-well, let them

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She ran through the large pines and aspen which towered above her, casting eerie shadows upon the winter earth.  She had not traveled far when she spotted her unsuspecting victim.  The ominous form stealthily approached, striking with a vengeance which would have sickened any human soul.  Flesh and veins were torn from the victim’s soft white throat as the dark, warm blood splattered the albino”s fur.

SLowly, she threw back her head and howled, the cry echoing throughout the ancient forest.  A light grey mist formed on the ground spreading upward as the cry had, haunting and sad.  No other sound, except the wailing of the wind, answered her call.  As long as she could remember, it had been that way.

Far below the ridge, beneath the Mountain of Spirits, they heard the cry in the town below.  People hurried home under the dimly lit streetlight, bolting their doors.  Some of them reached for crosses or their family BIbles, but all of them were deathly afraid.  She had come back!

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The snow was falling gently on the cold, icy ground.  Silence permeated the air, until the sound came bursting forth throughout the night, striking fear into the hearts of any unfortunate traveler in the area, be it man or beast.  The moon, full and glowing, illuminated the snow-covered earth, and in particular the blood-covered snow and the tracks of that which went from wolf to human, blood indented in their depths.

Thirty minutes earlier:

THe first kill happened on on a cold snowy night.  The temperature dropped 30 degrees in a single hour.  A fact which caused the pale women’s genetic structure to alter, a metamorphosis into a  nightmare.  She felt as if each cell in her body was charged with electricity.  Her blood boiled and her skin ached as it was stretched and reshaped.  Within minutes, gleaming white fangs jutted forth.  She fell to the ground, the pain and hunger riding her hard.  And then she ran.  Ran from herself, her destiny and to the call of the wild, pursued by her own demons and the thirst for blood.  She was the last of her kind, as white as she was sinister,  huge, massive and totally white.  Her fur wa thick, a necessity born of nature, to keep the biting winter winds from tearing at her flesh, and her cruel red mouth hid two rows of razor-sharp teeth, for the tearing of flesh.  She was death, in the biting winds of the far north.  She threw back and her head and howled.

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