Road Work

Night Highway

If you would just stop and ask for directions…

The headlights of the blue BMW drilled into the night, illuminating the black tarmac that flowed like a river of madness through the Pennsylvania mountains.  A double yellow line split the road lengthwise from Tafton to Mountaintop – 26 miles of harrowing hairpin turns and wild camel humps –  a roller coaster ride through old-growth Pennsylvania forests.

Ken kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel – his eyes forward, scanning the shoulder of PA route 390, vigilant for suicidal deer hiding in the darkness between the trees who were more than eager to bound into the path of his speeding vehicle.

He toggled the high beams but they were no match for the darkness that sent it’s fingers through the trees, squeezing the road into a narrow blue tunnel through the woods.

Tanya stared out the passenger window.  She shook her head and tossed her bobbed black hair – releasing dim shimmers of blue in response to the cold dashboard illumination.

“You always do this.”  she sniped.

Ken adjusted his jaw from side to side.

“The traffic was stopped.

For twenty minutes.

I had to get off – I can’t just sit there like that.”

Tanya frowned.  “We’re lost.  You have no idea where we are, in a place that we have never been.”  She pulled her cell phone from her purse and sighed.  “AND we have no signal.  Of course – we have no signal.  We’re in the middle of NoSignalVania.”

Ken winced at every word.  Tanya’s shrill, nasal voice had evolved into a first class irritant as of late.  It was like a million sewing needles stabbing and gouging his eardrums with each sentence. He found himself drifting away during her monologues, staring off into space, dreaming of the days before marriage and wondering how he could have been duped into matrimony all those years ago.  How could he not have noticed that sputtering, insidious, acrid tongue?  A tongue that found him time and time again musing on just how to tear it out, to cease it’s wagging forever so that he might find peace. Instead, he soldiered on in silence, obedient to the stereotype of the henpecked husband.

“Why are they always doing construction in Pennsylvania.  Everywhere you turn, a lane is closed or an exit is under repair.  I hate this state.”  Tanya shook her head.

“We are not lost.  We’re just…temporarily confused.”

Tanya shook her head and scowled.  She glanced back at the road.  “Jesus!”  She braced her hands on the dashboard and dug her feet hard against the floor of the car.

Ken snapped his gaze back to the road in time to see a deer flash past the headlights.  He  jammed both feet onto the brake pedal as the car began to skid sideways.  Suddenly, another animal, this one thicker with dark gray and black streaks, sprang into the path of the sliding car.  It moved like a cat stalking prey, low to the ground and surprisingly agile for its bulk.

There was a moment that seemed an eternity.  It was filled with clenched teeth, white knuckles, squealing tires and the smell of burning rubber and hot brake shoes.  It swam slowly into focus and then WHAM!  The sickening thud of metal hitting flesh and the tinkle of shattered glass broke the spell.

The collision spun the car 90 degrees off the road and into a shallow swale on the right shoulder.  Thick ferns and mountain laurel cushioned the car to a shuddering stop.

“Oh my god.  Are you OK?”  Ken reached over and touched Tanya.

“I think I bit my lip.”  She dabbed her mouth and examined the bright red that coated her fingertips. “Yeah, I’m OK, I think.”

“What the hell did we hit?” Ken unbuckled his seatbelt.

“A deer.  I think I saw a deer.”

“No, we missed the deer.  Something came out of the woods after it.  Something bigger like a bear.”

Ken opened his door and circled around to the front of the car.  The grill was mangled and steam seeped from under the crumpled hood.  The right quarter panel was crushed and the right front tire was rotated at an impossible angle.  Thick black goo was smeared across the damaged areas.

“Shit, shit, shit.”  Ken kicked at the ferns.  “There goes my insurance.”  He turned and looked back down the road.  A dark mass lie motionless on the blacktop, partially blocking the right lane.

“I think you hit a bear.”  Tanya was standing next to him, dabbing her lip with a tissue. “Way to go Mario”.

“Just call Triple A.”  Ken began walking toward the shadowy shape.

Tanya fumbled for her cell phone. “Uh, can’t.  No signal.  Unbelievable.”

Ken slowed his steps as he neared the carcass.  A musty odor, somewhere between cat urine and vinegar, wafted through the night air.  Ken recognized more detail in the moonlight.  The entire creature was about five feet long and had four legs, the front ones longer than the hind and all four capped with five to six inch glossy black claws that looked as if hewn from obsidian.  It appeared to have a small amount of black fur on it’s back which was streaked with dark gray patches that mimicked forest shadows.  Overall, Ken thought it vaguely resembled some kind of deformed black bear mixed with a mountain lion.  The fur gave way to black velvety skin that concealed sinewy muscles throughout the body of the animal.  The shoulders were bulky and the head was elongated and wide, with an odd sloping forehead and two large eyes, shut tight into ten inch slits.  A twisted pair of foot long black horns jutted from just behind the creatures large pointed ears.  The most astonishing feature, however, was the nightmarish mouth of the beast.  It gaped slightly open, and was circled in a row of black teeth on the outside, and rows of similar fangs on the inside.  It was as if a shark’s mouth had been turned slightly inside out around the edges and painted gloss black.  A black forked tongue lolled from the open mouth, dripping with gooey dark saliva.

“What the hell IS that thing?”  Tanya had joined Ken.

“I have no idea.  Maybe a bear that was burned or something.  But it has horns, I think.

“Bears don’t have horns, moron.”  Tanya looked at her phone again.  “How the HELL are we going to get a tow truck.

“We’ll have to walk and get help”  Ken looked around at nothing but shadowy forest as far as the eye could see.

“I’ll bet that’s some kind of endangered animal.  I’ll bet this dumb-ass state is going to fine us on top of everything.”  Tanya started walking back toward the disabled BMW.  “And there’s no WE in this whole walking to find help thing.”

Ken shook his head.  “Seriously?  What the hell are are YOU going to do while I’m walking?”

Over his shoulder, a pair of headlights flickered their way through the winding darkness of the stoic trees, distant tires clinging to the blacktop, hissed through the curves like a mechanized serpent as the vehicle neared.

“Looks like someone just caught a lucky break.”  Tanya stood, hands on hips, a smirk writhing across her red lips.

Ken ran toward the approaching vehicle, arms waving.  Blinded by the headlights, he could make out the dark shape of a late model pick-up truck, slowing to a stop before the motionless body of the strange creature.

“Hey, hey!”  Ken waved his arms.  “We hit something and we need help.”

The driver opened the door and stepped out.  He walked past Ken in a flurry of flannel, scraggly beard and greasy hair, eyes fixed on the creature in the road, the scents of sweat, tobacco and body odor swirled about him in the night air.

“Hey, thanks for stopping, we…” Ken put his hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

The truck driver spun and pushed Ken away.  “Nacht Teufel!”  He hissed through broken teeth and began to back away toward his truck.

“What?”  Ken stumbled forward. “Hey, what the hell?  Where are you going?”

“Ein Junge Nacht Teufeufel!’, shouted the bearded stranger as he climbed back into his truck and gunned it in reverse.

“No, no, no!”  Ken sprinted after the truck as it sped away into the darkness.  He waved his arms and shouted until the tail lights disappeared into the night.  He hung his head and slowly turned back toward his wife.

“What the hell was that?”  Tanya raised her arms, palms toward the sky.  “Did he not speak English? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I don’t get it.  How could he just leave us here?”  Ken shook his head.

“I’m going to take a nap in the car.  Good luck on your walk.”  Tanya turned and headed back to the car.

“Seriously?  You’re gonna sleep while I walk alone on this ridiculous road?  In the middle of the night?” Ken spread his ams wide in disbelief.

“Good luck.”  Tanya climbed into the back seat of the disabled BMW and slammed the door.

Ken stood motionless, mouth open.  And then he heard it.  Low at first, but growing slowly louder.  A low growl rattled from the carcass on the road behind him.  He turned around and his legs buckled.

The creature’s claws made a rasping sound as they scraped the blacktop.  The eyes were wide open, luminous and green, and as big as pie plates with no visible pupils – just two organic headlights glowing in the thick night.  Slowly, it struggled upright, tilted its  chin into the night air and began to howl.  It was low and mournful at first but built quickly to an ear shattering crescendo that echoed through the black forest.

Ken clamped his hands over his ears and gathered his legs beneath him.  Gingerly, to avoid drawing attention to himself, he began to step backwards toward the safety of his car.  After a few steps he turned and broke into a run – his shoes clacking on the hard surface of the road.

The creature howled again and Ken quickened his pace.  Behind him, he could hear claws scuffling on the blacktop as it tried to regain it’s senses. He reached the car, grabbed the door handle and yanked.  It was locked.  He pounded on the window.  Inside, Tanya shook her head and extended her middle finger.

“Unlock it!” he yelled.  Tanya extended both middle fingers and lounged back down on the back seat.

“C’mon!” Ken bellowed and beat his fists bloody on the window until he was out of breath.  He paused and looked past the car into the dark forest.  Everything had gone silent.  All the katydids and crickets and tree frogs were suddenly mute.   The night seemed somehow darker as the soft rustle of the grass and the wind in the leaves coaxed a pair of giant luminous green eyes from between the trees. Ken’s blood ran cold and he felt light headed.  Slowly, a second creature, identical to but about twice the size of the injured one behind him, emerged from the shadows directly across the road from his disabled beamer.  It moved with careful determination, barely making a sound in the forest night, confirming it’s status as an evolved nocturnal predator.

Ken dropped to his knees and hid behind the car.  His heart pounded in his temples and his hand rested on his thighs where he felt something solid.  He fumbled in his pocket and pulled his cell phone and 2 receipts free before finding his car keys.  Warily, he stood back up and peered over the car.  The creature was gone.  He turned and looked behind him.

The larger creature was now tending to the injured smaller one, nuzzling and grooming it’s wounds with a giant black forked tongue.  Short chirps and whimpers drifted through the dark air as mother creature cared for her child.

Ken fumbled with his keys and dropped them, tinkling into the thick ferns.  “Shit!”  He bent down and began to rummage his fingers through the thick foliage.  Suddenly, he felt warm air on his neck and that acrid smell from before.  Before he could turn, giant, powerful jaws clamped around his torso, and bore down with unbelievable force.  His head felt as if it would burst from the mounting pressure. He felt his ribs snap and the blinding burn of his flesh tearing beneath the black razor teeth of the beast.  He was lifted above the car, sideways, his head slightly lower than his legs, which he could no longer feel as the pressure continued to increase to impossible levels.  He felt gushes of warm blood running up his back and coursing along his neck and chin.  His head swam – the pain was blinding and mounted to a crescendo of cracking bones and rending flesh followed by swirling blackness as he lost consciousness.

And then Ken was hovering above the entire scene.  He could see his limp body in the creature’s massive jaws, like a rag doll, flopping as the creature began to thrash from side to side.  After a few flicks, his body split in two, blood and entrails spilling onto the tarmac. But Ken felt at peace.  There was no pain.  In fact, no feeling at all. He looked down upon the creatures as they milled around the disabled vehicle.  Far away, he could hear his wife’s shrill screams as the mother creature pried the car doors open with giant black claws.

A white light opened up above him, drenching the night in a glorious glow of salvation.  It washed his floating spirit in joy and redemption and mitigated all earthly sounds and images, beckoning his weary soul to eternal bliss.

A feeling of unprecedented warmth and contentment flooded through Ken’s being.  He grinned and dove headfirst into the light, delighted by the realization that he was finally free of his wife’s acrid tongue forever.

Night Eyes

Here kitty, kitty…

Jerry SkullDug

Thanks for digging the dark

 

 

 

 

Hellavator

There’s lots of stories in this ole’ skull of mine.  Quite frankly, too many to produce as media in my lifetime.  So I thought why not just write them down and share them.  So here goes.  Most of my recent writing has been in screenplay format, so going back to the old literature-what-is-the-character-thinking-feeling-etc format is a bit out of my comfort zone.  But hey, I’ve got stories and they got’s to come out so enjoy and bear with me while I get my short story chops back…Oh yeah, I forgot – I’m going to put links to more info throughout the stories and illustrations & perhaps animations (my own, of course) – isn’t it time that literature evolves with the information age?  Perhaps…I’m sure literature purists will wave their arms and accuse me of leading the witnesses…we shall see…let me know what you think…
JerrySkullDug
-SkullDug Jerry
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Hellavator

Elevator2

Frank stood motionless, eyes transfixed on the stainless steel doors.  Waiting.  He watched the numbers count down – 52, 51, 50.  He hated the word – E-L-E-V-A-T-O-R.  It was too symmetrical – same number of consonants as vowels – unnatural.  He had been trapped in an elevator for three hours when he was 7.  The old man he was trapped with spent the time doing unnatural things to him.  That was another word he hated – P-E-D-O-P-H-I-L-E.

He had managed to avoid this moment for nearly 40 years. He took the stairs, good for the heart – at first he would stop every 10 floors, but now he stopped every 5, burning legs, heaving chest.   Wasn’t exercise good for high cholesterol?  Dr. Smith said “you need more cardio, I don’t like these numbers”.  What was that medicine he had refused to take?

As he stared,  dread began to climb up his ankles, his legs, his buttocks and groin.  It slithered over his hips and wound it’s way around his spine.  Sweat trickled down his back. His neck and cheeks flushed.

Karma.  It was karma that had written this comedy of errors.  He had never cheated on his wife.  10 years of marriage, 2 beautiful children.  Straight arrow all the way.  But today he had broken his vows.  The new paralegal was just too willing, too persistent and too hot.  And now, there was Karma, grinning, laughing.  Karma had hired the crew to repaint the stairwells today – stretching that yellow tape across the doorways.  Karma had arranged his first trip in the metal box on a wire – the Otis death trap.  Karma was conducting this horrendous atonal symphony.

Dread was now holding Frank’s head in both hands, jamming it’s tongue down his throat like the paralegal had done 2 hours ago in his office.  He swallowed hard.  Dread was now swirling around in his stomach, making his head spin.  And then “ding! –  the elevator opened it’s jaws wide, an empty stainless steel and faux wood grain crypt.

“Grow up, be a man” he scolded himself.  He mustered every ounce of courage and stepped across the threshold.  He closed his eyes and the doors slid shut behind him.  He was alone in the box.  How many elevator accidents were there every year?

“There, you’re in.  Was that so horrible?”  He opened his eyes and watched the numbers count down. 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, and then BAM! It happened.  First there was a loud pop and then the sound of the cable whipping around in the elevator shaft.  The lights flickered and then went out – plunging the universe into darkness.  Emergency power clacked on and an eerie red light flickered to life – bathing the interior with a hellish glow.  Metal groaned, the floor shuddered and then another “BANG” and the elevator went into free fall.

“I’ll come clean if I survive this” he pleaded in his head.  “I’ll tell her the whole story and we’ll get past it all.  Just let me survive this – please!”  The floor dropped and a sickening weightlessness filled his chest.  A flurry of images swirled in his head – his mother, smiling, sending him alone to the corner grocery, the firm breasts of the paralegal, the horrid grin of the elevator pedophile – thick, dirty fingers unzipping his fly.

His heart pounded in his throat, a lightening bolt of pain radiated through his shoulder and down his arm.  He felt sick.  His stomach spasmed and he vomited.  It hung in the air for few seconds, victim to the same free fall and slowly draped itself across the walls.  The fall seemed to last forever.  How can four stories be such a long trip?

He remembered that someone somewhere said “if you jump just before impact, you will survive“.  He had to time this just right.  He watched the numbers dwindle – 40, 39, 38.  He crouched, ready to spring.  Down, down, the elevator plunged – 30, 29, 28, 27.  Faster and faster, the smell of hot metal and burning paint flooded the chamber. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4.

The pain in his arm intensified and he felt an unbearable weight upon his chest.  He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move, his arm was on fire, his chest collapsing.  Through a haze he saw the numbers – 3,2,1.  The lights flickered and he tried to jump but his legs buckled.  Suddenly…

…everything stopped.  There was no crash, no twisted metal, no wrenching impact.  The lights flickered and everything was still.  The pain in his arm was gone.  His chest felt light.  His breathing was regular and he had stopped sweating.  He blinked and wiped his eyes.  He was OK.  He had survived.  “Ha!  Karma my ass! I am alive!”  He began to laugh.  He slumped down against the back wall and laughed like a giddy schoolgirl.  The lights flickered again and “ding” the doors opened.

Corridor2

He looked up and smiled.  Through the yawning doors he could see a dark corridor.  It was constructed from quarried stone blocks, each about 2 feet by 3 feet.  They were scarred and stained by centuries of wear.  Torches flickered a faint orange glow, intimidated by the darkness of the corridor.  White objects littered the stone block floor of the corridor.  He squinted and his smile disintegrated.  Is this the sub basement?  The smell of rotted meat and sulfur wafted into the elevator.  He closed his eyes and opened them again.

A dark figure was now standing before him.  Thick gloves covered meaty hands and he was dressed in a heavy coat and loose pants of a stiff fabric that appeared to be coated in soot.  A long, dark object dangled from his left hand and trailed along the floor.  His face was a mystery.  It was as if the area where his face should have been was bending the light around it – an ocular dead spot.  Must be an effect of the fall he thought.

Frank blinked again and rubbed his eyes.  “Hey –  you with the fire department?”  He straightened up and brushed dust from his sport coat.  “Man am I glad to see you!”

Silence.  The figure did not move.

“Boy, I’ve always hated those damn things.  I think I might need some medical assistance – that was quite a fall.”

The figure remained motionless and mute.

“Hell – o!  I said I think I might need some kind of medical check up…”

With a lightening flick of his wrist, the figure whipped the rusted chain through the darkness.  It struck Frank just below his jaw and wound around his neck 3 times.

He tried to scream, but his trachea was crushed by the chain.  He dropped to his knees and grabbed the links that continued to tighten, mangling his airway.  He sputtered and the warm thrill of blood painted his lips.

The figure jerked his arm and dropped his captive prone.  Slowly, the dark stranger began to drag Frank into the darkness of the corridor.

Frank tried to scream, but managed only a gurgle.  His writhing arms and legs disturbed the bits of bone and dried flesh strewn about on the floor.

He watched behind him as the elevator doors slowly closed, devouring all hope.  Above the door, illuminated numbers flickered for a moment – an upside down 4, a backwards 3 and an 11. He heard the breath of his captor rasping – or was it a low, whispered laugh.

elevatorNumbers

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Copyright SkullDugFilms – 2013

 

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Other SkullDug approved stories and poems:

http://www.burialday.com/short-fiction/kelpie

http://www.burialday.com/short-fiction/worm-house#more-630

http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/horrorindex.html

 

The State of Horror

Link

What has Horror done for you lately?

As we approach Horror’s favorite time of year, namely autumn and Halloween, I thought it would be appropriate and fun to review some of the recent gruesome developments from an indie filmmaker’s perspective – so here we go…

Buzzworthy Horror films of 2012

Have a Nice Day

Such a cheerful person!

Smiley – Urban legend with a carved “smiley face” is summoned, hijinx ensue. Read Review.

Director: Michael J. Gallagher

Writers: Glasgow PhillipsMichael J. Gallagher

Stars: Caitlin GerardMelanie Papalia and Shane Dawson

 

 

Where's the nearest blockbuster?

I prefer Beta

V/H/S– Dudes are hired to find a vhs tape in a creepy house.  Be kind, please rewind!  Read review.

Directors: Matt Bettinelli-OlpinDavid Bruckner + others.

Writers: Glenn McQuaidDavid Bruckner + others.

Stars: Calvin ReederLane Hughes and Adam Wingard

 

Sinister

Bad Bagul, Bad!

Sinister– dude finds tapes and evil entity named Bagul.  Oh-oh, images of Bagul are bad.  Read review.

Director: Scott Derrickson

Writers: Scott DerricksonC. Robert Cargill

Stars: Ethan HawkeJuliet Rylance and James Ransone

 

American Mary

A “cut” above the rest!

American Mary – Medical student discovers the fun and rewarding world of underground surgery.  Read review.

Directors: Jen SoskaSylvia Soska

Writers: Sylvia SoskaJen Soska

Stars: Katharine IsabelleJulia Maxwell and Antonio Cupo

 

Horror Festivals

FrightFest UK – London, man, bloody London!

Screamfest LACalifornia Creepin!

NYC Horror Film FestivalThe Big, Rotten Apple

Terror Film Festival It’s Philly, isn’t that scary enough?

Spooky Movie International Horror Film FestivalWashington DC – Creepier than Clint Eastwood’s RNC speech!

For a comprehensive list, click here.

Noteworthy Horror Blogs and Sites

Vault of Horror – My soul-mates in the horror genre – their knowledge is wide and deep.  Old-school to freshly cut, they’ve got a great perspective on the world of horror including art, photography, film and literature. B-Sol is THE MAN!

Horror Blogger Alliance – A vast collection of Horror blogs and information.

Daily Dead – just plain horrible fun.

The B-Horror Blog – Lots of reviews here – a good place to find B-movie and Indie content.

Dread Central – Reviews, reviews and more reviews.  Great source for what’s up and coming.

Bloody Disgusting – Prolific, timely and fun to follow on Twitter.

Twitch – Plenty of good, solid horror info here.

Fangoria – the alpha vampire of horror – these guys have been around forever – I read them as kid in search of the latest creepitude and they are still the top horror dog.  Also home to Dreadtime Stories hosted by Malcolm McDowell.

What are your Horror highlights?

Now these are just the trending horror items that interest me.  Please feel free to add your comments and observations to the dialogue – I always love to hear what others have “dug” up.

Yes, I am blushing...

Yes, I am blushing…