MicroHorror

August 5, 2007

Secret Family Recipe

It was time for the 30th annual “Black Country” Best Skin Tasting Contest in the West Midland area in England. Best known for where the pork skin (also known as pork rind) originated. Folks from all over came to the annual event to sample and judge the best tasting skins as well as the best new flavor. Every year “the twins” Bradley and Brandon Williams won hands down in both the “best taste” and the “best new flavor” categories. Everyone who entered the contest envied the twins and wanted to know their secret family recipe.

Rumor had it that one year, Jim Johnson, a resident from the next town, tried to break into the twins’ home, to get his hands on that recipe. Another man was rumored last year as trying to befriend the twins. His plan was to befriend them, get into their home and then steel the secret. No one has seen either man since. Someone said they seen Mr. Smith, one of the judges for the contest snooping around on the twins’ property last night. People were buzzing about whether Mr. Smith would show up or not. Mr. Smith was also known to down a few bottles of whiskey every day. He was always drunk. Everyone wanted the family secret it seemed.

The twins did have a secret indeed. They had a brother who was born almost ten years after them. His name was Billy. One night their mother screamed with labor pains, and the twins and their father came running. It was too late. What they witnessed was a horrid sight. The mother’s stomach was shredded to pieces. Her limbs were torn off and her head ripped from her body. In the middle of the floor was a bloody mass of the most gruesome, deformed, hideous, and monstrous thing they had ever seen.

This “thing” was tearing their mother’s skin apart from the muscle and eating her flesh, limb by limb. The twins frozen with fear, looked to their father for protection. They looked up toward the ceiling and what they saw was not their father, but a grisly demon. He was circling the room while chanting a satanic mantra, in a voice not his own. He took Billy and locked Billy in the basement. The twins still frozen did not know what to think, except that they were next.

Their father (or who they thought was their father) took them in the kitchen and taught them the secret family recipe. He gathered their mother’s skin and deep-fried it to perfection. It was the best tasting “skin” ever. He told the twins that with a few ingredients, no one would ever know that it is not of a pig. The twins were sworn never to tell about Billy, and instructed to say that their mother died giving birth at home.

Back at the annual event, everyone was crowding the twins’ table and saying how good the twins’ fried skin was. Mr. Charles said, “Hey boys, this is the best tasting skin this side of England! By the way, have you boys seen Mr. Smith?”

Bradley said, “Yes, seen him yesterday, and he looked pretty torn up.”

Mr. Charles said, “Well, guess he hit the bottle too hard last night, and could not make it.”

When some of the people and Mr. Charles cleared from the table, Bradley chuckled to Brandon in a whisper and said, “Ha, if they only knew Billy really did tear Mr. Smith up yesterday.”

Brandon whispered back and said, “Yes, this is fantastic, considering Billy didn’t like the taste of Mr. Smith, but his skin sure fried up real good and extra crispy!”

Bradley said, “Yup, looks like Mr. Smith won it for us this year!”

July 2, 2007

A Royal Dream

After all the grand festivities and a dinner of the finest French cuisine, Her Majesty retired for the evening. Three hours had passed and the Queen became restless, as if the darkness were nudging her to wake.

A misty shadow seemed to linger at the foot of her bed. The Queen, with nothing but eloquence, dismissed the presence. Beside her bed, on an antique cherry wood nightstand, were pictures of the royal family, minus the past. Very tired from the sojourn, the Queen quickly went back to sleep; however, she still felt uneasy. Shortly thereafter, the Queen heard a familiar voice in her dreams.

“Dream, my precious Queen, and know that I did love him. I wore the most exquisite lingerie, and bore two royal sons. Yet, your open public display of hatred disgusted me. How dare you call yourself a Queen? He never grew to love me because you made him believe in all your tricks, and lies! In your eyes, I was never equal, even thought of as less. No resources for poesy I suppose, as I was for the hearts of the people, not for yours. You let unscrupulous critics blame me for helping to strip the supreme power of the mystery so important for its survival. If they only knew about you, my precious Queen. I was titled ‘Queen of their Hearts’ by the public, until you… paid the paparazzi… to kill me. In my afterlife, I am still ‘The Royal American Pie,’ and you, O Canada, will be haunted. I will haunt you even on the other side, just like tonight!”

The Queen gasped and jolted upright, and an object fell in her lap. That same uneasy feeling came across as the Queen fearfully turned on the night light. The light revealed a photo with a special inscription that read:

To my loving and precious Queen.
Love,
Lady Diana

June 26, 2007

You’ve Got Mail

It’s late, about 2:30 AM. She jumps on the PC. No mood for television. Lightning flashes. Raindrops sound mysterious against her windowpane. She checks e-mail first.

“Wanna play hide and seek?”. Sender unknown. I w-i-l-l p-l-a-y, she types. A half hour passes, still no response. Although, she felt like someone was X-raying her. Check e-mail again. “I was gonna play!” she laughs out loud. Then–her windows frost and a deep voice whispers, “GO SEEK”. Erotic shadows dance on her screen.

Frozen with fear, she cannot move or speak. Her ribcage pulsates. Hands from behind massage her neck and explore her anatomy. Her exhale, now irregular, seems to approve the invasion. She echoes somberly, wondering who could this be. She turns around and screams. Screams are silenced. Hellish maggots laugh at her, while dissolving her soul into damnation. Devil types back, Y-o-u F-o-o-l!

« Previous Page


Home | All Stories by Title | List of All Authors | FAQs and Submission Rules | Links

Powered by WordPress