I have always been of the mind that we write the best fiction about things that truly affect us. I think that’s why my default fiction mode is horror; because there really is that part of me that’s always looking for that spark of unexplained motion out of the corner of my eye, or inflating the scratching of branches on a metal roof into the sound of unearthly claws tearing at the very fabric of reality.
Which is why, when people went nuts about how creepy they found this photo, a little light went on in my head.
Right underneath my left earlobe to be precise. It’s very distracting when I’m trying to sleep.
But regardless of that, I’m here to challenge you writer types out there: you say that picture creeps you out? Great! Now write about it.
In less than a thousand words. No time limits.
Clear as blood? Good.
Then off you go, and dazzle me with your words.
I will see what I can come up with!!! Hmmmm…..
Ahh, I will try. But first, allow me to say that Hitchcock knew very well how to horrify…he dusted one’s mind with his little sack of “Powder of Suggestion” (sic) and let one’s imagination fill in the details.
Therefore, based on that, here is my ‘story’ regarding your creepy photograph. Actually, it’s a caption:
@Michelle That is perfect! I can’t top that, but I’ll enter a story in this challenge anyway. I’ll link it here this Friday.
I’ll give it a quick try:
Thank goodness I remembered the pliers.
The hammer I found in the bottom drawer of her dresser (beneath the socks and a sachet of lavender) wouldn’t get the job done correctly; why was it there in the first place? She didn’t seem like the type to worry about intruders. She let me pass by her in the doorway on the notion that I was there to fix the plumbing. She hadn’t even called the landlord to complain of a clogged drain.
She begged for her life a few times (I’m only assuming here) through the lace pair of underwear I had stuffed in her mouth, and may have said something about a brother or a boyfriend. A roommate? I’m still not sure. If there was one, they didn’t show up during my brief visit.
She moaned and slid across the bathroom floor like a fish gasping for air, while I hummed my favorite Mozart piece and pulled a fresh pair of latex gloves up around my wrists. I gave each one a snap (my favorite part) and sighed. I picked up the hammer and turned to face her. She looked up at me, slumped against the gleaming porcelain and panting. The walls, the toilet, the sink, blinded me with their purity; she kept a very clean house. I felt sorry to make a mess of it.
“Now, this will only take a second.” One swing and she was quiet. The hammer turned out to be good for something.
The panties out of her mouth, her teeth gleamed as purely as her surroundings. Just another day at the office.
Oooh. Nice and freaky. Because that pic didn’t creep me out enough the first time. 😀 I’m going to let this brew for a bit.
Pingback: Teeth – A Flash Fiction Challenge « Ninjas Riding Dinosaurs
Challenge accepted. I’ve posted my bit of flash fiction on my own blog in a selfish attempt to garner readership. 🙂
Pingback: Meet My Twin- a Flash Fiction Tale « CMStewartWrite
Aren’t pliers romantic?
This was certainly an interesting challenge! My story includes aliens and plenty of cheese pizza. It’s on my blog!
Pingback: The Gumshoe, the Judge, and a Tooth Fairie | Albert Berg's Unsanity Files
Pingback: 1st Guest Post “The Gumshoe, the Judge, and a Tooth Fairie” « standup2p
Pingback: The E-Spark « bardicblogger