Monday, April 18, 2011

The Liebster Blog Awards

What is the "Liebster Blog Award?"
It’s an award that was reputedly started in Germany in order to give smaller bloggers recognition for their hard work. You receive this award from a fellow blogger that feels your blog is both worthy & important to them. If you receive this award, there are two rules.
1. You must award 3-5 other bloggers with the award. In this case, it is five.
2. The bloggers awarded must have less than 300 followers.
Participation is completely voluntary and is not limited to any genre or writing for that matter. Basically, the blog can be about anything and simply has to be one that you feel is worthy and that you would like to give recognition to by passing it on.
This said...

Imagine my surprise when I received an email from Carole Gill ( informing me that she had selected my blog as one of her five. Carole is quite an accomplished vamplit writer who I see rubbing elbows with the likes of Anne Rice, Stephenie Meyer, and a host of other well known vamplit writers' at some point in her future. I was honored that she chose Stay Scared, and I would like to thank her for the consideration.

So, now comes the hard part, selecting five blogs to pass it to, or award if you will. This is a rather tough ordeal considering that I follow a number of excellent blogs, and trying to select only five is daunting, but I'll try...

1.  Hammer and Beyond has to be one of my picks considering I absolutely love the Hammer Films. It is where you will find a vast array of everything Hammer, as well as links to associated sites. Simply marvelous…enough said

2. CK Webb and DJ Weaver are both writing and reading machines. Besides constantly interviewing authors’ and chronically reviewing books, they’ve found the time to write their first novel “Cruelty to Innocents: The 911 Abductions. It will be available May 26th. Typically, CK has a monthly piece in Suspense Magazine and DJ is one of Suspense Magazine’s regular reviewers. I have selected their blog Webb Weaver, for it’s outstanding commitment to both reader and writer alike. Thanks and keep up the great work.

3. Dark Wolf Fantasy Reviews is a superb place to get many horror anthology reviews. Considering that I primarily read anthologies, this is one of my favorites.

4. Dan Dillard is the author of the upcoming novel “The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs,” by Hellfire Publishing, and is probably a writer that I personally lean closer toward considering his horrific macabre bone. He has many books and stories to his credit and I have even featured “My Mind’s Eye” on Stay Scared. Horror is his middle name and I am proud to be associated and award him. Find out more about this sometimes-demented writer at

5. Best Horror Comics is the blog that I would have if I wasn’t writing all the time. It offers wonderful insights to some of the best horror comics known. Be sure to check it out at Best Horror Comics and you may become a fan yourself.

And, there you have top five blogs that I pass forward and offer the Liebster Blog Award.

Stay scared,


Sunday, April 17, 2011

With Werewolves...Why does it have to be a silver bullet?

In film and book media, Werewolves, with the exception of “Teen Wolf,” and a few others, are typically and rightly so, portrayed as something viciously horrible. Employing superhuman strength, razor sharp claws and teeth, and an aggressive disposition, they are stealth, fast and can strike without notice. And, their exceptional hear and smell senses ensure that no hiding spot is safe.
             Killing these terrible beasts can be most trying. The standard weapons simply don’t apply and since they heal basically instantly, most efforts are in vain. But, all hope is not lost. As with any good versus evil scenario, there is a solution. It is a solution that many werewolf films’ following the most commonly accepted resolution employs in one way or another…the silver bullet. But, it doesn’t answer the question, why does it have to be a silver bullet?
The first reputed werewolf was in 1591 in Bedburg and Cologne, Germany. His name was Peter Stubbe and the legend tells of sorcery, evil pacts, brutal acts, and his eventual execution.
             Depending upon location and belief, primarily European originated, there are various ways to become a werewolf. With the aid of modern horror, many are familiar with the most common way, through the bite. But, what are the other less common ways?
The earliest belief was by making a pact with the devil in order to fulfill a desire or craving for human flesh. Supposedly, the devil offered the ability of metamorphosis in exchange for the soul. Being cursed is probably the second most common method. This curse can be either human or God related. However, when it is God related, it is a punishment for invoking their wraith.
             In Greek mythology, the werewolf originates when King Lycaon attempts to feed and poison Zeus with human flesh. Zeus isn’t fooled and condemns Lycaon to a life as a wolf, thus, the lycan word origin.
Other ways of infection are by drinking the puddle of rain water lying in a werewolf’s paw print, wearing a wolfskin belt while nude, and sleeping outdoors with the moon directly hitting a person’s face on certain Wednesdays and Fridays.

Is there a cure?

There are three reputed methods for curing werewolfism. Using wolfs bane medicinally, surgical removal (usually killing the person in the process), or by exorcism.
In a 1963 study by Dr. Lee Illis entitled “On Prophyria and the Aetiology of Werewolves,” he argues that the medical condition of Rabies could very well be the actual origin of the werewolf legend since the common historical symptoms are uncannily similar. And, since Rabies is a contagious disease, it could explain why being bitten by the afflicted would infect and create a new werewolf. Other medical conditions have been debated in an attempt to explain also.
Where Hypertrichosis deals primarily with excessive hair growth, Porphyria is much worse. In a nutshell, results are pigment loss of red blood cells and painfully photosensitive. In the later stages, thick hair growth, sores, skin and cartilage change, and accompanying red colored nails and teeth. Usually, varying degrees of mental illness are prevalent in the afflicted.
The silver aspect made its way into the lore in the 19th century when it was reputed that a silver bullet was used to kill the “Beast of Gevaudan.” This was the name given to the red hair, large teeth, and smelly man-eating wolf-like animal that roamed France’s central-south Margeride Mountains between 1764 and 1767. Eventually, the Norse colonizing America brought these beliefs with them. In more recent days, a more creditable explanation of the animal is that of an extinct Hyena.
Silver is reputed to have associations with the human soul as well as the moon. And, it is this certain metal that has been long considered to have mystical properties. These properties act, much like the werewolf’s natural allergy of wolfs bane, and burn from the inside.
Psalm 12:6 addresses this. The words of the Lord are pure words, like silver tried in of earth, purified seven times. This purification and absolute is an aspect that Satan cannot twist since it is pure. And, with a werewolf being reputed to have originally made a pact with the dark Lord in which they would make it impervious to manmade weapons, an absolute purifier needed to be added in the weapon creation, successfully breaking the evil binding tie. Silver is a metallic element that, in its pure form, has both the highest electrical and thermal conductivity of all metals. So, considering the metals physical as well as divine properties, it does seem to be well suited to disposing of a werewolf.

Is simply killing the menacing beast enough?

It is believed that if the werewolf’s head is not separated from the body, they will rise, much like a vampire, to begin the victim hunt again. However, if the head is removed and tossed into a brook, it is thought to sink, and remain under the surface, held down by the weight of its sins.

Why does it take shape only during a full moon?

               Leonie Calver, a clinical research toxicology nurse at Calvary Mater Newcastle Hospital in Sydney, Australia has researched this human and full moon phenomenon. In her Medical Journal of Australia documented study, she cites, “our findings support the premise that individuals with violent and acute behavioral disturbances are more likely to present to the emergency department during the full moon.”
There is a theory that may lend some credence to the full moon conception. The moon controls the tide through lunar gravitational pull, and since the human brain is primarily made up of water, the full moon may have an adverse effect on this water too. Additionally, this may cause ill feelings to come forth and surface, creating the transformation much like the proverbial lunatic, a moon or lunar associated word.

Which reminds me…

Why do they call it the Witching Hour?

Friday, April 15, 2011

What's So Special About A Wooden Stake Anyway?

By Thomas Scopel

When it comes to the undead, destroying, eliminating, or killing them can be, and usually is, a rather tough chore. Whether it is a werewolf, zombie, vampire, or any other of the various ghouls, each requires a certain amount of specialized knowledge, as well as the use of special methods or tools.
Not including sunlight, most everyone knows that a wooden stake is the single tool necessary to kill a vampire. It’s probably common knowledge. Especially, since a host of film studios have driven this notion into the culture’s psyche with their movies. Whether it was Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee playing the creeping, cape wearing, blood-sucking beast; there was usually a wooden stake involved in their destruction. And, let’s be blunt. There is something in each of us that finds it particularly macabre when a stake is driven into the heart of this evil, undead bad guy, causing his eyes to open wide, his mouth to snarl, his fangs to glisten in the moonlight, and his blood to spray like a fountain that typically comes along with a staking that makes for great horror cinema. Am I right? But, why is it a wooden stake? Why can’t it be a metal stake? Or a plastic one? Or any other material besides wood for that matter?
            Vampires have been around for centuries, and perhaps longer considering that the ancient Greeks, Romans, Mesopotamians, and Hebrews all had their tales of spirits and demons. But, these demons and spirits were not coined vampire since the word itself had yet to exist. It wasn’t until the 1734 edition of the Oxford English Dictionary that the word vampire officially became added and accepted.  But, when did vampires actually first appear? And where did they come from?
In spite of the message within popular film, it was during the fifteenth century that Vlad the Impaler began to receive credit for being a vampire. Was he a real vampire? No. He was simply a ruler of Romania who employed wickedly cruel punishments to dispose of his Ottoman enemies primarily as revenge for the killing of his father and oldest brother. By utilizing a long wooden stake-- a spear--he would leave his dead enemies to dangle from the end of it while it stuck vertically out of the ground, thus, Vlad, the Impaler. And, there has been some discussion as to whether or not he actually drank his enemy’s blood; but, this was not likely because he was a vampire. If Tepesh drank the blood of his enemies, it was probably to increase their fear and keep them at bay.
It seems likely that the accounts of Vlad Tepesh’s use of wooden stakes in battle provided some of the basis for Bram Stoker’s Dracula novel, after he came across a book entitled “An Account of the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia: with various Political Observations Relating to them” by William Wilkinson which mentioned Vlad and some of the atrocities he committed. That coupled with the un-dead Slavic folklore tales with which Bram was familiar probably aided with the creation of his gothic vampire story too.
Stoker was most certainly not the only writer to grace the white page with words detailing a blood sucking vampire tale. However, he is considered the first and most popular to bring the vampire story to the masses. His 1897 fictional gothic vampire tale gave us not only the basis for which all subsequent vampire media works are loosely based on, but it also gave us the first knowledgeable vampire hunter with Van Helsing. Therefore, it was Stoker’s imagination, coupled previous legends that firmly set the most common vampire beliefs.
Although Stoker’s novel is considered a wonderful piece of horror literature, ranking up there with Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, it does nothing to explain the wooden stake theory. For, in his tale, it makes no mention of a wooden stake, and, it is a bowie knife that kills the great undead creature. So where does this stake idea come from?
According to Eastern European folklore, vampires have supposedly been around long before the Dracula novel was conceived, or probably even thought of for that matter. In those earliest of times, before firearms, there had to be a way to kill these horrible creatures. Maybe this is where the wooden stake came into play. After all, wooden spears have been around, basically, since shortly after the dawn of man and certainly before any vampire ever existed. And, since wood was the most readily available material it seems reasonable that, if those spears were used to hunt prey, then why not use them on vampires too.
There are modern beliefs that don’t use a stake at all. Instead, they argue that the only proper way to kill a vampire is by cutting its head off. This supposedly releases the trapped “blood demon” within the body, and leaves simply a rotted corpse.
Another theory that does at least lend some credence to the stake use is the body being tacked or nailed to the bottom of the coffin before burial. This was to ensure that the undead were unable to rise. And yet, along with this theory, were the times when the undead were simply staked to the ground, holding them in place to await the sunrise and their impending doom (the sun theory). 
            Still, we don’t have the answer to the one-dollar question. What is so special about a wooden stake anyway? There are two common beliefs that could hold the answer. The first is that since the cross Christ died upon was made from wood, it is thought that wood has a healing or holy power. The second considers a more defined arena in thinking that a fruit bearing tree’s wood works best due to their unselfish giving of life through their fruit. Since they are suitable for giving life, they are most apt to be able to absorb life, even an undead one.
Wooden stake issue? Check. Now, what’s the deal with the silver bullet?

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Lickety Split

Lickety Split
by Thomas Scopel
First seen in Suspense Magazine (Dec.'10)

Leo Geovoine spoke, “Let’s hurry up! Be quick…lickety split. Know what I mean?” His deep tone was stern, serious and distinct, but somewhat playful. “That thing’s loud as hell, but, I guess nobody’s gonna hear us way out here especially at this hour,” he looked at his wristwatch. It was just after three a.m. “I just don’t feel comfortable with this one so let’s just hurry it up.”
He took his wrinkled, perfectly manicured sixty one-year-old index finger and quickly pointed toward the old, worn, black case occupying part of the concrete floor’s corner.
“I’ve gotta admit, Guido, always did agree that it’s the quickest way no doubt about it. Faster than the typical knife cutting ways, but being old school and I can still honestly say that I prefer those instead - it seemed classier. The meticulous carving was eccentric and considerably quieter, but no less of an art back then, know what I mean? Art that sent a clear respectable message. Not just some butcher’s note like this new fangled way of yours.
“Maybe I’m just longing for the older days. Things were slower, it was more methodic, but with one thing that always stood above the rest - respect. There’s not too much of that anymore nowadays, always in a goddamn hurry. Everybody wants the respect, but they’re not willing to take the time to earn it. They want it all right now and they want it handed to them. It’s the goddamn rat race, I tell ya. It’s all about the money and the speed they can get it these days; been getting faster and faster too. Hell, even I’m speeding up.
“Family is the most important thing. Always has been and always will. Maybe I’m just getting old. Forget-about-it. I guess we have to roll with the times. Let’s just hurry up, use it and lose it, got it? Be as fast as possible.”
He took a deep breath and continued his ramblings. “And like I said, it may be quicker but, that thing’s so loud it probably wakes the goddamn dead. It even hurts my ears. But, I gotta give you credit, one thing’s for sure, once we get started, hell, before we know it, we’ll be bagging up the bitsy piece parts.” He gave a heartless, somewhat reserved chuckle and slowly shook his head, “Again!”
Being a devoted catholic and highly religious, deep down Leo knew what they did was technically and most likely wrong. On the other hand, it was an often used, needed service, especially with the seedier side. But, it provided a very nice income for his family and therefore, he truly hoped the good Lord would realize and understand what he did was a necessity. As a matter of fact, he sort of looked at it as somewhat doing the Lord’s work and eliminating an evil that threatened a family. Regardless, it still would nag him being the executioner. He consoled himself each Sunday at confession the way most Catholics did, never once confessing to his capitol crimes. In his eyes, that would at least absolve him from the sin and thus, give him a fresh start each and every week.
Reaching inside his overcoat, he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Fishing back into the same pocket, he took out a gold, electric-spark, butane lighter. Flipping it open, he pushed the side button designed to look like the ace of spades. There was a small pop sound and a bright blue flame voraciously appeared from the top of it. He lit the cigarette, let go of the button, closed the top and placed it back inside the pocket.
“Well,” he took a deep drag from his cigarette and left it dangling from his lips, “we better get started.”
Pulling out a tightly rolled and folded square of sheet plastic from his black overcoat’s large, side pocket, he shook it. Shaking it once again—this time more vigorously - the large, murky, clear-plastic sheet began unfolding and flew toward his partner, Guido Scopelini, landing at his feet. Guido bent down and retrieved it. Carefully grasping each corner and giving a gentle tug, the sheet partially opened. They both shook it in unison, fully opening it and removing the wrinkles.
“Let’s work off this,” Leo nodded toward the thick, wide, shiny, rubber conveyor belt, four feet off the floor and directly beside them. He tossed his half of the sheet over and across it. Guido followed suit.
“At least we don’t have to work off the floor tonight or out of a car’s trunk. That’s a nice welcomed change, having all this room to work with,” Guido casually mentioned while evenly adjusting the sheet, allowing the excess to dangle off the sides just barely touching the floor below.
Leo bent down, grasped the dead, limp body by the shoulders and waited for Guido to take hold of the other end. When Guido did, they lifted. Leo’s hand slipped out from under it and the body fell, head first, landing back onto the concrete with a dull, cracking, sickening thud. Guido didn’t say a word and waited as Leo took a fresh hold and lifted again. Struggling a bit, the older men managed to toss the body directly on top of the newly spread out plastic sheet.
Leo, cigarette still dangling from his lips, gave a small sigh, took a drag from it and retrieved a pure white handkerchief from his rear pants pocket. He brushed it quickly across his forehead, taking what little sweat that had slowly begun to bead with it and put it back. Guido offered an ever so faint understanding smile, turned and walked over to corner where he left the case. Leo, with cigarette smoke gently rising and following his movements, took hold of the body’s gently bent arm and set about working to straighten out the not so fully rigamortis-set limb.
Guido flipped the three latches on the top of the heavy, leather case and threw open the lid. Reaching inside, he took out a menacing-looking, red-stained, not so freshly used chainsaw. Dried particles remained attached to the chain’s blade edges with some resembling that of an old fishing worm dried hard on a hook. He carried it back. Leo already finished the stretching of both upper limbs and covered them with the side dangling sheeting, obviously hoping to catch most of the inevitable flinging blood and flesh.
Leo removed his overcoat, tossed it to the side and rolled his shirtsleeves up as high as they would go.
Watching Guido remove the chainsaw’s fuel cap, he directed, “I’ll hold ‘em, you cut ‘em.”
His voice echoed and bounced off the four-foot, cement-block wall running adjacent to the belt, reflecting back toward them and continuing beyond and throughout the large open factory area. Guido peered into the saw’s gas tank, leaning it to direct the overheard lighting into it and inspected the amount. It was over half-full and he replaced the cap. He then walked around the nearby end of the conveyer belt and followed it up the opposite side, taking a place directly over the body and across from his partner.
“All ready?” he asked in a not so serious, almost happy-like voice that gave Leo the impression his partner and trusted friend half-heartedly enjoyed this sometimes grotesque work.
Thirty-six years of being together and offering their services allowed them both the opportunity to earn the reputation and ability to grow into the mob’s best and most dependable, yet somewhat notorious, specialists. It was a status that would probably easily compare to that of an underworld rock star. It afforded them wealth, comfort and prestige that both relished. But, it wasn’t always like this; it was something they built over time.
In the beginning, it was obvious to both that they were a natural team that just clicked. Leo, the conserved, more practical one typically let Guido - usually gladly and proudly - take on the master craftsman role. Regardless the roles, both would accept the credit. Way back when, after accepting their very first contract - a job that only required an off shore bank account and came complete with anonymity - Leo felt uneasy and made it clear to his partner he didn’t feel right about it or even fully trust the situation. It was the complete anonymity aspect that bothered him the most. And, being a people person, found it to be not personable at all, feeling that it would open them up to either a potential criminal sting operation or set them as targets of their own profession. He wanted to know whom he was working for and why. He wanted assurances that the target truly had it coming, as well as a reassurance that the employer would not retaliate. And, if they did, by them initially meeting with the employer, Leo would know exactly who to go after, providing he survived.
Guido fully understood and agreed with Leo’s philosophy. Even if he didn’t feel quite as strongly about it as Leo did. It was a safety feature. Knowing why allowed them to decide whether they would accept or not. It made them feel at ease as well as somewhat protected and even offered them to be privy to at least one of their potential client’s deepest and darkest secrets, thus, somewhat leveling the playing field by providing a common reason as to why both employer and employee would want to be equally silent on the matters. Basically, according to Leo’s thinking, it allowed each party to have the dirt on one another. This would translate immediately into and provide mandatory and automatic trustworthiness. So, with their business concept well thought out, the two hurriedly and guardedly completed that first contract, vowing to firmly refuse accepting any more until the transactions offered their terms.
At first, their demands, requiring a personal meeting with the potential client that must include the disclosing and reasoning behind the ultimate butchering request was met with some resistance. But, that soon changed directly after accepting a particularly dangerous job that took out and eliminated a key witness, leaving a top, previously reluctant, client free and clear. This cemented their reputations which grew tenfold and before long, they were usually the team called first. Since implementing the change, both became content with the opportunity and ability to decide case acceptance, and the underworld quickly learned that if it wasn’t a good enough reason, don’t bother calling. From that day on, even though both were simply and blatantly considered to be murderers, Leo and Guido walked proudly with their heads held high, feeling an odd sense that what they did was actually a community service.
This progressed for years. But, it wasn’t until choosing a chainsaw as their primary carving instrument that they became notorious and feared. Previously, each explored a variety of methods, utilizing guns, knives and even dissolving acid. But to them, the ways were basically standard and boring used methods that were common and it lumped them in with the normal bunch of cleaners. It had no distinction. However, once they began using a chainsaw in their repertoire, their reputations cemented, elevating them to superstar status and added the persona of fright. Nowadays, just the mention of their names, in certain circles, commanded respect and invoked fear at the same time.
“Where you want to start,” Guido asked.
“Same as usual I suppose,” Leo replied, "let’s just be fast, gotta go, lickety split.”
Leo tossed his cigarette, took hold of the short brown hair on the body’s head and gave it a snug pull. The neck area opened up and Guido saw his target. He flipped a switch on the saw, grasped the handle and pulled. It choked once, emitted a dark puff of smoke and fired up loudly. He pulled the saw’s trigger a couple of times. The chains razor sharp teeth became a blur. Locking it into the run position, he placed the saw’s chain it on the victim’s Adam’s apple and began cutting through the soft flesh of the throat. Particles of flesh desperately attempted to cling to the saw blade as a fresh coating of red sprayed and began to make its way across, over and onto both the saw as well as Guido’s hand. Occasionally, pieces of flesh that the plastic sheet didn’t catch would fling wildly and land on the floor some distance away. The neck vertebrae were easy bones to cut through and the chainsaw needed little effort to complete the task. With a slight tug, the head separated from the body and dangled aimlessly by its hair from Leo’s hand. He let go and it dropped to the floor. He then lifted the stiffening arm by the wrist and Guido proceeded to cut through the shoulder. When it came loose, Leo tossed it alongside the head and the two continued on, eventually making their way down to the legs.
Knowing from experience that the femur, next to the skull, is the hardest bone in the body, Guido placed his left hand on the top portion of the saw’s handle to add extra down force for cutting through it. Leo stood closely across from him holding down the extremity at the pelvis and just above the knee. The leg, which was increasingly becoming fraught with rigamortis, fought valiantly to spring back up into its previous position and Leo had to push down hard in order to keep it straightened out. Guido quickly locked the whining blade in the wide-open position once again and began cutting into the thigh, flinging flesh chunks and bloody particles in the process.
“What the hell?” Leo yelled out over the saw’s constant scream, feeling the slight sting of the moist flesh directly hitting and occasionally sticking to his now red covered bare arms.
Guido pulled the saw out and away from the shredded, sliced leg’s groove and yelled back, “Lickety split, right?”
Leo started to retort, but Guido ignored it, placed the saw into the bloody trickling gash and beginning cutting again. The saw zipped through the flesh, hit on and began making its way into and through the femur bone itself, throwing bone particles in the process. Using his forcing hand, Guido pressed down on top of the saw a little harder. It quickly followed the previous groove and began continuously cutting through the bone. Suddenly, the saw cleared the bone and made short work of the flesh behind it.
Guido wasn’t prepared for the speed at which it occurred and was still forcing down the saw. He felt it bounce off the heavy underlying rubber conveyor belt and kick back hard. Without a moments notice, the saw sprang back up quickly, completely shearing off Guido’s pressure-assisted hand at the wrist. He watched with wide, fear-filled, surprised eyes, as his now detached, left hand landed on the lower torso of the dead, partially-mutilated body, flopping over once and coming to rest in the crotch area.
Blood sprayed heavily from the wound in every direction and began to pulse with each heartbeat. Faster than Leo could react, he watched, almost in slow motion, as the fully running and now basically uncontrolled chain blade came directly up, hit dead center and increasingly embedded itself deeper and deeper into the interior of his lower chin. He tried to pull away, but couldn’t. The constantly running blade’s direction held him firm and continuously yanked him back toward it, allowing it to continue cutting deeper and grinding up through his face. By the time the saw cleared its way out through the top of his skull, he was dead and just beginning to drop to the floor.
Guido watched in horror as his friend fell forward against the still running saw and forcing the blade to kick back off the top of his skull bones. Guido couldn’t control it as the saw twisted in his hand, spun completely around backwards, landed and quickly cut into and through his still good arm just below the elbow in one short swipe. Both the saw and arm fell to the floor. The still full-bore, running saw landed bar up, leaning on and against Guido’s freshly hacked off limb. Guido fell to his knees while holding stubs of arms up as blood spurted and ran, dripping off his elbow. Looking across and under the belt, he saw Leo lying limply on the other side. His now unrecognizably chewed and shredded face split evenly with each side lying wide open as if it was a particularly macabre Halloween mask. Blood flowed freely through the facial flesh trough continuing to flow out the chin section and pouring out onto and down the sides of his neck. A large, glistening, red puddle was continuously expanding on the floor below him.
Guido felt light headed and weak. He fully collapsed onto the cold concrete floor, not far from where his arm and the saw had fallen. Still hearing the constant and consistent whine of the chainsaw, he looked in its direction. The saw vibrated down off of the loose limb and the tip of it was now aimed directly at his face.
“Lickety split my ass,” he mumbled under his breath as he closed his eyes.
The constantly running chainsaw gradually and continuously vibrated across the concrete floor, breaking the early morning silence.
By the time it made its way to and began grinding directly into his face, Guido never felt it.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Being Bugged

My palm itched and the old monetary adage crossed my mind while I scratched at it deeply. A crooked smile crossed; being glad it was within a centralized reach today; avoiding the various dried bloody scrapes and welts located elsewhere. Not looking; hoping to keep my chronic disgust at bay, it is too late. The thought has already surpassed the attempted mental barrier and grips tightly. Digging harder, surface blood flows, forcing flaky bits of red tainted flesh underneath my longer than usual fingernails. But, they’re not long enough and the itch dives deeper, fades from my palm, into my wrist, and begins striking up my arm. My scratching unconsciously chases and I feel unclean. The worm is moving again…