Tag: horror

Ten Eggs

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I watched the eggs in the incubator hatch.
Ten slimy, wobbly chicks drying off in the heat of the lamps.
They preen, standing on wood shavings.
Not yet eating, drinking. Probably tomorrow.
We’ll move them over to the other box when they’re ready.
Until then, there’s one last egg in the incubator.
It’s glowing green.
The chicks avoid it, preening and peeping on the other side of the incubator.
Wait. There’s only eight of them.
Weren’t there ten before?
The green egg glows brighter.
Maybe we won’t move them out to the other box.
Or open the incubator at all.

Cold Feet

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The last thing you want at a wedding is for the groom to have cold feet.
Or the guests.
That’s why I keep the feet warm when I cater to cannibal weddings.
I made a special tray that keeps them at just the right temperature, but doesn’t dry them out.
I’m sure it would pass the Health Department’s inspection, if cannibalism didn’t throw up a red flag.
Or the fact that this island doesn’t have a Health Department.
Just cannibals.
Either I cater their weddings the way they want, or they will want me.
I’d rather serve than be served.

Pennies from Heaven

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Every time it rains, it rains pennies from Heaven.
Falling like bullets, they pierce umbrellas and shatter car windshields.
Dozens of people don’t make it to shelter and lay in the streets, bleeding or dead.
Birds, too.
After the storm passes, ambulances pick up the injured and dead, and we sweep up the broken glass, tow away wrecked cars, and bag dead animals.
We used to gather up the pennies and head to the bank, but now we bring them to the foundry.
They melt them down for the zinc and copper.
One day, they’ll finish the giant protective dome.

Dr. Frankenpizza

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Every evening, after Dr. Frankenstein would fail to bring his creature to life, Igor ordered a pizza and have it delivered to the castle.
“What would you like on your pizza, Master?” Igor asked.
“Does it really matter?” Dr. Frankenstein sighed, sweeping the ashes off of the lab table, mopping up blood with a rag.
“Right, Master,” said Igor.
Thirty minutes later, a knock on the castle door.
Igor carefully sneaked behind the delivery boy and brained him with a club.
“Will this one do?” said Igor.
“Certainly,” said Dr. Frankenstein, smiling.
“And about the pizza?”
“Ugh. I hate pizza.”

Static Wave

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Instead of saying her first word, my daughter opened her mouth and a wave of static filled the room.
The lights flickered for a few seconds before they caught and stayed lit.
I was expecting a Mommy or Daddy, like most kids, but the doctors warned us that the high percentage of nanoparticles in her system may alter her development slightly.
My wife and I said “Good, Marcie!” and tried to be supportive, but her grimace matched mine.
Still, despite the setback, not bad for 5 days old.
We’ll finish uploading Calculus tonight and start work on her Quantum Physics.

The Stairs

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Lily warned me not to go down to the basement.
But I needed something from down there.
We live on four, so I went down the five flights of stairs and…
Locked. Forgot the key.
So, I went back up six flights of stairs and…
Six?
If I went up six, I should be on…
Wait. Hold on.
I went back down again, down five flights of stairs, and stood at the basement door.
Then I carefully counted each flight of stairs up.
Six.
“Somethings wrong,” I said.
“I told you not to go down to the basement,” muttered Lily.

Addict

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I can feel the needle in my arm.
It’s been there for a long time.
I refuse to look at it.
I should take it out, I tell myself.
I can’t remember putting it in.
Did I put it in? Did someone else?
I can’t remember.
What if I take it out for a minute, to prove I can.
Will I be able to put it back in?
I’d better leave it there. It’s there for a reason.
I can’t remember why, but it should stay there.
So I look, and… it’s not there anymore.
I scream GIVE IT BACK!

House Call

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I don’t feel well. I’ve been pretty sick recently.
Doctors did some tests. Then they did more tests.
“You have cancer,” they finally said. “Real bad.”
No treatment will do any good.
So, I went home, took the phone off the hook, and got drunk.
Stayed drunk for three weeks.
I get a knock on the door. It’s a doctor. Says he’s been trying to call me.
He has a drug now. Nanobots. Kills the cancer.
“So, I’ll live?” I ask. He gives me the injection.
“No,” he says. “This’ll kill you too. We just need your organs for transplant.”

Sold

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That’s a mighty fine looking baby you have there.
How much will you sell that baby for?
You don’t do drugs. You don’t drink. You seem healthy enough and so does the baby.
There’s no way you can afford that baby, no matter how healthy it is. All babies get sick, need diapers… all that stuff.
It’s not easy setting a price, and nobody likes an auction for a baby, even if for a healthy one.
The market rate is fifty dollars a pound, precooked weight, but this one looks like seventy-five dollars.
Try eighty, and leave the diaper on.

Never explain the light

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There is a light under the water, about a mile offshore.
We sent a crew out.
They never came back, no answer the radio, either.
You can’t see it in the daytime, but at night, it’s bright enough to light up the ocean.
We called the Coast Guard, and they said to just let it be.
“What about the crew?” I asked.
“Hold a memorial service,” said the Coast Guard. “And fish elsewhere.”
They won’t tell us anything else. The Navy just sends us to the Coast Guard.
Whatever it is, it’s getting brighter.
And now, it’s starting to sing.