Tag Archives: monsters

October 23

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Fictober, Prompt 23 – “This time, do what I say.”

Original fiction, fantasy/horror.

Warnings: monsters/gross monster corpses (no great detail).

I slashed out, separating the head of the last shuffling monster from its body. It collapsed to the ground with an unpleasant squelch. I turned a quick, full circle to make sure that it really was the last one, then flicked as much ichor off my blade as possible before sheathing it.

The suddenness of the attack had startled me, even though I should have known better. I closed my eyes, getting my instincts under control, though undoubtedly my companions would have gotten a look at my eyes and face by now.

The suspicious part of my mind wondered if the one had been trying to provoke an attack deliberately, in the hopes that I would reveal myself. I didn’t think he was that much of an idiot, or that desperate, but I couldn’t be completely sure, not having known any of these people long.

Still, they had hired me to do a job and paid fairly for it, so I would see it done.

But I’d keep my guard up while I did it.

Under control, I stalked back over to where the whole group had, fortunately, listened to my last instruction to take cover.

“Out,” I said brusquely, jerking a thumb. Terrified, stumbling, they made their way out from under the rock overhang, gaping at me and shying away from the monster remains scattered around us. The corpses would collapse fully into ichor, but not for a couple of hours yet.

“Is it now clear to all of you,” and here I turned narrowed eyes on the man who had attracted the monsters’ attention in the first place, “that I am not exaggerating the dangers here?”

They were all silent, wide-eyed…but they all nodded.

“You’re not…” one of the women started, her voice barely a whisper.

“Human? No, not as such,” I said crisply. “That has not changed the fact that you hired me to be your guide, that I intend to do my job, and that I am your only hope of making it through alive. Are we clear on these points as well?”

Nods again, all around.

“Fine,” I said. “If you do, in fact, want to make it to your destination in one piece, then this time, do what I say.”

With that, I turned and set off again, picking my way carefully through the corpses, moving slowly enough that they could match my path, if they paid attention. Once we were out on the clear path again (such as it was), I turned one last time for a headcount.

Everyone was still with me.

I hadn’t yet lost anyone getting through the Barrens, and I didn’t intend to start now.

October 12

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Fictober, Prompt 12 – “You keep me safe.”

Original fiction.

Warnings: stalking, implied past abuse, threatened violence, monster, horror-adjacent, hopeful ending.

The man was there again.

He stared up at the house, searching the windows eagerly for any flicker of light, any sign of movement…any sign of her.

I had already warned him off twice, and slow anger coiled through me to see him here again, in my territory. He was standing just off the edge of the property that went with the house, but that was irrelevant – the human notions of property lines were not applicable to my kind, and my territory stretched far out beyond the neighborhood around us. I had chosen one of the more distant houses, set back from the street and a yard filled with mature trees, though those admittedly obscured less of the view now with half their leaves on the ground.

I contemplated the man from the shadow of one of those trees, knowing that he had not seen or sensed me yet.

Ellie had neither requested nor required any promises from me, regarding what I could or could not do to him. She had asked only for sanctuary, an honor I had not expected, even though she had known my true nature for many years now.

But, as glad as she was to rest for a time, I knew that this could not go on much longer. She had her life yet to live, and he would try to prevent that from happening. Still, her very silence on the subject made me hesitate.

Thrice, I decided, was both traditional and sufficient. I would warn him once more, and give him a little bit more incentive this time to stay away.

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October 31

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Fictober, Prompt 31 – “Scared, me?”

Warnings: monsters, implied hunting. Some Halloween spookiness to finish things off.

Acknowledgment: This whole piece was inspired by a creepy Halloween night description that LiveJournal user eryne-chan wrote many years ago in an LJ RPG. I really liked the description and saved it, and wanted to do something in tribute (though this story is entirely unrelated to the original RPG post). The last half of the last line is borrowed directly from her description, because I could not get it to sound quite right with any other wording. The rest is merely “inspired by.” Happy Halloween!

I always patrol the streets on Halloween. I start early, before the sun is fully down, as the little children and their parents make their trick-or-treating rounds. I’m well known by now, and many of the children wave excitedly when they see me, exclaiming over whichever guise I have picked to wear this year. Their parents nod to me in thanks for the extra pair of watchful eyes.

There are some monsters that would snatch children away.

I nod back, but do not speak to them.

Dark comes early here, at this point in the dying year. Soon enough the streetlights are flickering on, pools of warmer golden light, a safer companion to the cold light of the moon, rising above.

Some of the streetlights continue to flicker, never quite coming on.

The parents with children avoid those streets. The older children, the ones allowed to walk together without adult supervision, make an appearance in greater numbers now.

They do go down the streets with flickering lights, encouraging each other toward the lighted doorways and spookily welcoming decorations.

“Scared, me?” they ask each other brashly, and do not listen to the instincts that tell them to stay away from darker paths.

I do not stop them. That is not my purpose, and in any case, it is mostly safe.

The moon is thin this year, its light weak.

Darkness steals into the spaces between houses, thickening between the pools of lamplight, creeping up to fill the treetops. With true darkness, the children are not the only ones on the streets anymore. More figures, costumed and masked as is appropriate, join the children, following in their footsteps, accepting candy at doorsteps but never taking their eyes from those they follow.

I follow them, and they are forced to nod in acknowledgement. They follow the children, as is their nature, but they do nothing else.

Adults begin to return to the streets, costumed themselves now, heading for restaurants and parties and bars. Other figures join them and are complimented for their costumes. They smile realistic sharp smiles, and nod in thanks, and wait.

They too are forced to nod in acknowledgment as I pass by. They follow the adults, as is their nature, but they do nothing else.

For now.

If the adults notice anything amiss, they brush it off as a product of the atmosphere.

“Scared, me?” they ask each other jokingly, and do not ask why the atmosphere feels the way it does.

Hours pass, and still I patrol the streets. Parties wind down, and people make their way home. Those that know, or sense, that they are not alone hurry. Many hurry. Some move more slowly, unaware, or too inebriated, to realize they should be watching the time.

The seconds tick by. I can hear them in head, though the large clock on the main street counts only minutes and hours, silently.

Almost.

I hold my breath, and many others hold theirs (or not) with me.

The clock strikes midnight.

There is no chime, as there might have been in older times, but all know that it has come. Even the drunkest people feel a sudden chill, and the darkness deepens as the moon slips behind the trees, acknowledging that the time of its pale light is done.

There is a moment of stillness.

I smile.

Masks begin to slip, and other smiles grow sharper.

Those humans who have not made it safely home must now make their way through streets that are less friendly. Some will not make it unscathed. Some will not make it at all.

The darkest hours of All Hallows Eve are our time…and dawn is a long way away.

October 26

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Fictober, Prompt 26 – “You keep me warm.”

Warnings: creepiness, monsters, ambiguous ending. Horror.

(Credit for this idea goes to my friend KB, who has three lovely kitties.)

I wiggled carefully to avoid disturbing the cats as I adjusted my blanket and reached for my glass, book braced open with one hand. After a drink, I set it carefully down and chanced giving them each some head rubs, first Cinnamon’s tortoiseshell head, then Sky’s black one.

“Such good kitties,” I cooed at them, grinning as they both accepted the petting agreeably, shifting closer against my legs. “You keep me warm, you like getting scritches, and of course you are both a-do-ra-ble.”

Cinnamon and Sky had been restless today, and not in the way of their usual high-energy play. I frowned slightly remembering it. They had been alert for hours, almost seeming like they were on patrol, walking the perimeters of rooms, stopping regularly at windows and doors, watching. Staring at the ceiling, staring at corners. It got to the point where I had checked things over a couple of hours ago myself, almost convinced that something was wrong. If there was, I hadn’t found it. I had even checked the garage and outside the house too, but everything seemed normal to me.

But they had both settled down a little while ago, finally coming to sit with me as I read on the couch. The house wasn’t particularly old, but there had been a few mice, especially with the weather starting to turn colder outside. Maybe there had just been a mouse or two in the walls, and they’d been trying to track it down.

Returning to my book, I read for awhile, utterly content.

Sky’s head came up first, ears alert. Cinnamon followed. They both looked around, as if searching for something they had heard.

I held still and listened. The clock ticking in the kitchen, faint sounds of wind and passing traffic from outside. Distant hum of the furnace downstairs.

Nothing out of place.

Except that something was, because both cats had risen and jumped down from the couch. They paused there, crouching on the floor, staring across the room at an empty corner.

There was no play in their movements, only hunting intent.

The corner was empty.

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October 1

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From the Fictober prompt list on Tumblr, Prompt 1: “It will be fun, trust me.”

Warnings: Horror, unseen monsters, implied violent death, Midwestern gothic

“You do realize that this is not my idea of how to have a good time on a Friday night?”

“So you’ve said, but you’re still here aren’t you?”

I was forced to grunt in acknowledgement as I followed Kevin up over the chain link fence. It was one thing to hop over the short fence between our yards but the one around the county fairgrounds was at least twice that height.

“Surprised there’s no barbed wire at the top,” I muttered, slinging a leg over.

“It’s the fair, not a prison,” Kevin jeered, already on the ground.

“Says you,” I jeered back, dropping the last few feet. I landed with an unfortunate jolt, but kept my balance.

“I’m the one who practically lives here during fair week,” he pointed out.

“Which, once again, begs the question of what we’re doing here now. You always say you’ve had enough by the time your 4-H events are done.”

“This is different!”

I followed him across the open field, the long grass dry and rustling now in early October. It did feel different, like this, with none of the booths or crowd I was used to from fair week, and only the permanent buildings taking up space. It was more open, yet the buildings seemed to loom somehow taller in the dark. With no lights on, only the dim light of the quarter moon lit our way.

“Seriously, Kev,” I said as we got near the office building. “What got you in such a hurry to do this now?” We both kind of liked sneaking into places we weren’t necessarily supposed to be, but Kevin had insisted that it had to be the fair tonight, even though there wasn’t anything to see here that we hadn’t seen before.

“Well, people said they were hearing weird noises, right?”

“People always say that. And I thought that was out in the fields?”

“Here too, though, I heard my mom saying on the phone. Thought it was time someone came to check it out, right?” He looked back over his shoulder to grin at me. “It will be fun, trust me.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered again, but sighed and resigned myself. If I was going to back out, I should have done it before we hopped the fence.

The office was closed and locked, as was the first exhibition building. We skirted both, avoiding the brighter open areas where someone driving by might notice us. The next big building was latched but not padlocked, so we eased the door open and snuck inside.

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