MicroHorror

Katrianna’s husband died when her son, Alec, was four. Her heart ached every time she looked at Alec because he was the spitting image of his father. Despite the loneliness, she managed to survive the first year without her mate. She didn’t know it, but her life was about to become much worse.

After Alec’s fifth birthday he became gravely ill. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with him. Katrianna stayed many nights in the hospital as Alec became weaker and weaker. After a month, she took him home to die. Katrianna cried bitter tears, knowing there was no hope for her beloved son. She laid him down and went outside, allowing the cool air to caress her tear-streaked face.

“Life’s not FAIR!” she shouted to no one in particular.

“No, it’s not,” a voice said behind her.

Startled, she spun around and faced the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Dressed from head to toe in black, he radiated power from his vibrant blue eyes. He had long shoulder-length hair with complimented his pale facial features. There was something strange about him, though. There was a powerful creature lurking behind those eyes.

“W… who are you?” she stammered.

“My name is Xiere,” he replied, smoothly.

“I… I,” she tried speaking but the words didn’t come.

His lips curved upward in more of smirk than a smile. Katrianna shook her head to clear the fog settling in her brain. He seemed to float as he stepped closer. She lowered her head, not trusting herself to gaze into his eyes.

“Wha … what do you want?” she heard herself ask.

“Only to help you,” he said, gently. “I can heal your son.”

“How?”

“That really doesn’t matter. I can heal him nonetheless. All that is required is a small payment… your soul.”

“What?” Katrianna shouted.

“Your soul is the payment for my help. He will die otherwise,” Xiere said, flatly.

Katrianna was overcome by a wave of nausea. She fell to her knees, feeling trapped by his offer. She would do anything to save her son even if it meant giving up her soul. She stood up slowly, almost whispering.

“Do you promise he will be healthy?”

“I promise,” he agreed, smiling.

Xiere could have just as easily taken her soul but it was more fun for him if she gave it away willingly.

“Okay. Just make him better,” she pleaded.

“It is done. He is healed,” Xiere said, waving his hand.

Katrianna heard Alec calling for her. Her heart swelled with joy. Alec ran outside and leaped into her arms. She clutched him tightly to her chest.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“You are welcome,” Xiere said, laughing softly.

Before Katrianna could say anything else, Xiere ripped the child from her arms and snapped his neck, killing him instantly. He flung the body to the side like a piece of garbage.

Katrianna’s mouth moved as if stuck in a silent scream. Her eyes never left her son’s broken body. Xiere laughed at her reaction.

“YOU LIED!” she finally screeched.

“I never lie,” he said calmly. “I promised to heal him. You never mentioned the length of his life. Don’t worry, I sent him to Hell to play with Lucifer.”

“Y… you BASTARD!” Kat screamed.

“And now you belong to me,” Xiere smirked.

He bent down and kissed her. His lips were like fire against hers. He could feel all resistance leaving her.

“I promise you will enjoy… serving me,” Xiere said, stroking her neck, “but there is one thing you should know. Your son was sick because I made him so.”

Katrianna felt numb. She understood what Xiere had told her. She had been tricked into giving up her soul but somehow she didn’t care anymore. The only thing that mattered was the creature standing before her. As she took his hand, Katrianna realized then she wasn’t the first to be deceived… deceived by Xiere’s promise.

Xiere loomed over the screaming man and laughed. His prey was a young man named Michael. Michael was chosen because he was kind and had aspirations of becoming a priest. He was exactly the type of person Xiere despised.

Although Xiere could take any form, he chose to appear before Michael as a man. Xiere, however, was far more than a mere mortal. He was a very old creature, almost as old as time and completely evil. The power he wielded was overwhelming and terrifying. He flitted among the humans defiling or slaughtering all who opposed him.

He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length black hair, pausing briefly before resuming his game. Michael’s shrill pleas for mercy brought a smile to his cruel lips. Mercy was for the weak and something Xiere would never give. He slowly pulled Michael’s limbs from his body, using magic to keep him alive. Soon Xiere would claim Michael’s soul, adding him to his minions eagerly awaiting command. His callers were collecting souls even as he paused for a moment to play. It was only a matter of time for the battle between good and evil to begin and Xiere lusted for the death of his enemies.

“Are you ready to die?” Xiere asked, growing weary of the game.

“Yessss! P… please!” Michael begged.

“All in good time,” Xiere chuckled. “First, I require your soul.”

“Take it,” Michael whimpered.

Xiere quickly cast a spell, obliterating Michael’s body and spraying blood like a fine mist. The soul knelt before Xiere.

“Join the others and await my command,” Xiere ordered.

“Yes, my lord,” Michael said, disappearing.

“Are you here to join me as well, Tiberus?” Xiere asked the guardian angel who had arrived too late.

“NEVER! I am here under God’s command. He demands an audience with you.”

“And why should I obey such a weak creature?” Xiere provoked him.

“GOD IS NOT WEAK!” the angel shouted. “Should I tell him you are too much of a coward?”

Xiere’s eyes grew cold though the smile never left his lips.

“You can tell him anything you wish, Tiberus,” Xiere said, softly.

Tiberus knew he had overstepped his bounds.

“I… I apologize,” Tiberus stammered.

“Perhaps I should go. It will give me the opportunity to corrupt innocent souls.”

Tiberus turned quickly, eager to avoid the death echoing in Xiere’s eyes. He knew Xiere would kill him at the first available opportunity. He took Xiere to the outskirts of Heaven where God was patiently waiting.

“Xiere,” God greeted coldly.

“And what, pray tell, do you want?” Xiere asked sarcastically, “as you know, I’m very busy. There are so many of your people I have yet to kill.”

“I am ordering you to stop immediately!” God demanded. “I am ready to return my son to the earth. He will battle you and your evil creatures.”

“After all these years, you still don’t know.” Xiere clucked.

“Know what?” God asked, confused.

“That your son serves ME.”

God’s mouth opened with dismay.

“You see, he was suffering on the cross, begging for your help and being ignored. I came to him and offered MY salvation. He readily agreed and he has been MY caller ever since. He shall control a legion of the most heinous creatures in existence. Your son will command the very evil YOU sought to defeat. All this time, you thought he was calling souls for you,” Xiere scoffed, “while he was actually calling them for me.”

God knew Xiere had spoken the truth. His own love had foolishly blinded him.

“My son was supposed to die so that others might live,” God finally said.

“And little did you know he died so that others may die.”

“YOU… vile beast!” God spat.

Xiere threw his head back and laughed. “I think I shall leave you with this final thought. Who do you think incited the masses to crucify your son in the first place?”

Xiere disappeared, his laughter hanging in the air.

“Wear it for protection,” Karl ordered.

“But I don’t want to,” Terum whined annoyingly.

“You really should. It’s for your safety,” Karl warned him.

“It’s too bulky! I can’t enjoy myself if I wear it,” Terum complained.

Karl sighed. He was tired of Terum’s attitude. Terum complained constantly and spent his time looking for ways to get out of work. Every time Karl turned his back, Terum disappeared. Unfortunately, he couldn’t complain to the boss because Terum was his son. The boss had a bad habit of hiring his sons to work in an upper level position and Karl was expected to train them. Since most of them were arrogant or stupid, training them was difficult and Terum was the worst of the lot.

“I’ve done this a million times,” Karl said, his voice indicating his patience had just about run out.

“Well, I don’t care. I am not going to wear that thing,” Terum said, stomping his feet like a little kid.

“That thing” which Terum referred to so eloquently was a heavy black metal grate. Worn over the body, it shielded the flesh from cuts, gouges and many times, death. It was similar to armor worn in the time of knights. Terum was right; it was bulky but was essential for protection.

“Look!” Karl snapped, “I know what I am talking about. You need to wear it. If your father were here he would agree with me.”

“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Terum smiled, showing his white teeth. “He’s away on business. Technically, I should be running this place, not you. I should be your boss.”

His snide comment was the straw. Karl threw down the grate in a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine!” Karl snarled. “Have it your way.”

Smiling triumphantly, Terum yanked the lever. The stretching machine roared into action pulling the ropes tight. The man on the table screamed as his limbs were pulled outward. His shrieks of anguish blended with screams of the damned around him. Terum pulled harder, hoping the limbs would be wrenched from the body at the same time.

Karl stepped back. He knew Terum was reckless and had too much tension on the ropes. It was only a matter of time before an accident was going to happen.

Suddenly, one of the ropes snapped, flying wildly towards Terum. It struck his chest, the force severing his body in two. Terum’s eyes widened, his mouth trembling in shock. Blood dribbled down his lips as the two halves of his body slid in separate directions. He lay on the ground twitching momentarily before he died.

Karl shook his head in disappointment. Lucifer lost more sons because of their arrogance. Karl picked up the grate, gazing at the ruined body of Terum. He barely heard the painful whimpers from the soul upon the machine. Carelessly, he tossed the grate over his shoulder and walked away.

“Should have worn it for protection,” Karl chuckled softly to himself.

The Hat was hungry. It had been behind a dumpster for so long it couldn’t even remember the last time it had fed. Day after day it lay, patiently waiting for a chance to escape from where it was hidden. The ravenous desire for food was intense. It could sense that food was nearby, but it couldn’t reach it.

Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew the Hat from behind the dumpster. It lay quietly in the middle of a sidewalk. As luck would have it, a homeless man picked the Hat up and placed it on his head.

The Hat was full again.

The winter wind blows
Amid the sleeping trees
They are keeping watch
I tremble with unease

They creep ever closer
I shudder with despair
They will come for me
Of this I am aware

They snarl in rabid hunger
With long pointed teeth
Avid eyes glowing red
Yearn to carry me beneath

I know I cannot run
I know I cannot hide
They will only catch me
And carry me inside

Willingly, I give myself
To those who will condemn
My soul forever lost
I now belong to them

Brad walked carefully upon the old dock, his feet clumping against the wood. He liked coming to the dock. It gave him peace to gaze out over the water. Brad usually ate his lunch with his feet dangling off the edge while listening to the gulls squawking above. He peered over the edge expecting to see the same rotten pilings emerging from the blue water. Instead, Brad saw a human body floating in the water.

It took him a few moments to register what he was seeing. It was a male body floating face down with a huge white spike sticking out of his back. Curious, Brad got down on his hands and knees to take a closer look.

As he bent down the water began to churn and swirl around the body. Suddenly a huge mouth from a sea serpent burst from the water and bit Brad in his abdomen, pulling him into the water.

Now Brad was used as the bait.

I stand waiting faithfully
For battle to begin
I glance in his direction
He gives a furtive grin

Blood will flow this day
The ground weeping red
For when the moon rises
Enemies will be dead

The time is almost here
My hand gripping spear
Soon forces of the good
Will belong to Xiere

I yearn to stick my blade
Into an angel’s heart
My hands are aching
To tear their wings apart

My master lays his hand
Upon my metal helm
I shiver at his touch
For he will rule this realm

I charge upon the field
My voice is raised in glee
My sword slashes into
Each pure soul I see

Blood sprays upon my face
I lick my splattered lips
Bodies drop before me
I carve them into strips

Our battle will be won
It’s time for them to fall
Perhaps they should have known
Evil conquers all

Christopher had been afraid of ghosts since he was a little boy. He knew they were always watching him from the corners. He forced himself to ignore them until eventually he couldn’t see them any more. Since he had closed his sight he was able to live many years without seeing them, until one day. A ghost appeared before him, making itself visible. Christopher was outside working on his car when it handed him a wrench. Christopher was so alarmed he dropped the wrench into the engine compartment.

“Don’t be afraid,” it said softly.

It was the ghost of a man in his late thirties. It wore ‘50s-style clothing and had a bowler hat upon its head. It was white, semi-solid and glided along the ground. It had a long handlebar mustache, which seemed absurd considering it was a ghost.

Christopher closed his eyes and willed it to go away. After a few moments he opened them and to his great surprise the ghost was still there. Annoyed and a little concerned, Christopher turned his back on it.

“I am not going away, so you might as well acknowledge my presence,” the ghost said, amused twinkling in its voice.

“What do you want?” Christopher asked, spinning around.

“My name is Jonathan and I need your help.”

“You’re dead. Go away.”

“Please, at least hear my plea,” Jonathan begged.

“I will not!” Christopher shouted and stormed into the house.

Christopher was quite dismayed to discover Jonathan was inside waiting for him.

“I am not that easy to avoid,” Jonathan smiled.

“Okay,” Christopher sighed. “How can I help you?”

“I need to see my daughter. I heard from another ghost that she was sick.”

“And?”

“And I would like to trade places with you,” Jonathan said.

“What? Are you insane? I’m not going to do that,” Christopher snapped.

“Please! She was my only daughter. She was only three when I died. I must speak with her. She cannot see me like you can, but if I use your body I can converse with her.”

Christopher was a good man and had a daughter of his own. He could fully understand the ghost’s angst, but he balked at the idea of relinquishing his body.

“I don’t know…” Christopher paused.

“Please, won’t you help me? It would only be for a short time. I would speak with her and come right back. I promise no harm will come to your flesh.”

“Well… okay, as long as you’re quick,” Christopher finally agreed.

“Oh, thank you so much!” Jonathan said, clapping his hands together.

Christopher felt an odd, cold sensation when the ghost entered his body. His vertigo shifted suddenly as he was thrust outside his body. He looked down at his hands and could see through them. He had become a ghost. Jonathan was smiling at him using Christopher’s human lips.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry!” Christopher pleaded.

“Hmmm,” Jonathan said, looking around. “I swear I just heard something right now.”

“What do you mean?” Christopher asked, alarmed.

Jonathan walked away from Christopher, laughing to himself.

“Sucker!” Jonathan snickered. “Works every time.”

My name is William Hazi and I’m sure these are the last words I will ever write. I am leaving this journal to anyone who finds it. I must tell what has happened here. I don’t know if there’s anyone left alive besides me. We thought they were harmless but we were wrong. We couldn’t have possibly known the peril. After all, who would expect a butterfly to be dangerous?

It has been a month since they swarmed into Wahoo, Nebraska but I remember it like it was yesterday. It’s strange, the little things you remember when you’re about to die. I was sitting in the local diner eating my breakfast, when I saw the first one. It landed on the bush next to the window. Everyone inside gasped and ran to the window. It was a Monarch butterfly, with a thirteen-inch body and a two-foot wingspan.

Soon another butterfly landed beside it. Then a shadow covered the sun as millions of them poured into our town, covering everything in sight. I felt a trickle of fear crawl up my spine. They disturbed me on a primeval level I couldn’t explain.

The first death happened within five minutes of their arrival. Mr. Beltran left Walgreen’s, headed for his car. He stepped gingerly between the resting butterflies. The moment of stillness was interrupted as the butterflies suddenly launched themselves into air. They latched onto him and began eating him. He screamed in terror as they tore him apart, one little bite at a time. They chewed his eyes from their sockets, greedily drinking the viscous fluid. Within fifteen minutes Mr. Beltran was completely stripped of his flesh.

I was numb with shock, barely hearing the dismayed screams of those occupying the diner. We watched in horror as a little girl became the next victim. She couldn’t have been more than five. She was chasing after a ball when they swarmed her, shredding her flesh to pieces. When they had finished, all that remained was a few wispy strands of hair upon her skull.

Chaos erupted inside the diner. People raced outside to their cars attempting to escape the inevitable. I waited a few moments before fear launched me into action. Luckily, my car was parked in front. I unlocked it using the keyless entry and waited for a distraction. While a young woman was being eaten I ran to my car, slamming the door shut on a butterfly. It was sheared in half, flopping and squirting green fluid onto my jeans. I couldn’t help but shudder in revulsion.

I drove as fast as I dared, smashing butterflies with my window. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people being consumed everywhere. People I had known my whole life soon ceased to exist. A man ran in circles, screaming and slapping at his face in attempt to remove the butterfly from inside his nose.

I reached my home shortly and gasped in horror. They were all over the roof. They seemed to be watching me, waiting for my next move. Suddenly the beating of their wings filled the air as they took flight after my neighbor. With my heart hammering in my chest, I ran into my home. Unfortunately, they realized I had escaped and butterflies soon began flinging themselves against the windows. I took refuge in my laundry room, the most secure room I could find.

Now, I am waiting for death to come. It has been a month and they are still searching for a way to acquire me. They have broken into my house and are fluttering outside the door. I have water, but my food source is depleted. The last thing I had to eat was some stored sugar. I only wish I had something to kill them, but they are too many. Please, if anyone finds this journal tell people what has happened to our small town.

Oh God, they are in the vents…

When Alex turned fourteen he became addicted to video games. He played many games, but preferred Mario. He spent every dime he earned on game systems and begged his mother to buy him games. Alex played from the moment he got home until bedtime, breaking only for a quick meal or a run to the bathroom.

The day came when his obsession affected his grades. He began failing all of his subjects and his mother grew tired of his consistent playing. She grounded him for a month without games. Alex was devastated and protested loudly.

“But Mom!” he complained. “I can’t go a month without playing. I’ll die!”

“Stop being so dramatic. Bring your grades up and you can play again,” she offered.

Alex didn’t bring his grades up though. He actually did worse in school. His mother was at the end of her rope. She suspected he was failing on purpose although he vehemently denied it. After three months of no playing Alex thought he was going to lose his mind.

One night, following another argument he stormed outside and did something only a little kid would do. He wished upon a star.

“I wish I could disappear into a video game,” Alex said, the desperation echoing in his voice.

“You know, I could make that happen for you,” a voice behind him said, startling him.

He spun around and faced a stranger standing casually on their porch. He had long black hair, striking blue eyes and a smile that spiked a chill though him. He was wearing a loose black shirt, matching black pants and leather boots that covered his calves. He was the most handsome and evil man Alex had ever seen.

“Who are you?” Alex asked, nervously.

“That is not important,” he smiled.

“Well…” Alex paused, shifting his eyes to the door. “What do you want?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear your plea. I can make it come true.”

“You can make me disappear into a video game?” Alex asked.

“Of course,” he chuckled softly.

“How? I mean, are you a wizard or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Awesome!” Alex shouted, excitedly.

“Naturally, I would expect payment in return,” the stranger said.

“I don’t have much money, but…” Alex said.

“I have no use for money,” he interrupted. “I desire something else.”

“What?”

“Oh, just a small trifle. Something you won’t even miss.”

Like most children, Alex reacted without thinking. He should have pressed for more details but he didn’t. If he had, he might have known he could only stay inside the game while it was turned on.

“Okay!” he said, eagerly.

The man snapped his fingers and smiled.

“It is done. The next time you play a game you will be transported into it.”

“Thank you!” Alex said.

The man just smiled and melted into the darkness. Alex began to wonder if he had even existed. He couldn’t wait to play his game but he would have to wait until tomorrow. His parents often worked late and he could play his game without them knowing about it. A small part of him knew it was dishonest, but he was too excited to care.

The next day, he flew off the bus at breakneck speed and ran into his room. Trembling with excitement, he turned on his game. He felt his body twist and pull towards his Wii. Within moments he was inside the game staring at Mario. Alex released a joyful shout and spent the afternoon jumping and playing with his favorite game character.

Later that evening his mother came home, immediately calling for her son. When she couldn’t find him, she went downstairs and searched in his room but found it empty. The chattering Wii immediately drew her attention. Filling with anger, she reached out and turned off his machine.

She had no idea that she had just killed her son.