Howlietzer Publishing

Category: horror

  • Shadow Puppets

    Shadow Puppets

    Shadow Puppets

    Shadows on the Ceiling

    Tanya watched the shadows dance on the ceiling as she tried to sleep that night. They were cast from the trees outside her window, provided by the moonlight, and, thanks to the ceiling fan, moving—dancing. The overlap of branches and stems appeared like two lovers waltzing around her ceiling fan.

    She laughed softly, because as soon as she thought it, they appeared more and more like little people twisting and turning with the blades of the fan. She held her breath. It was uncanny. They didn’t look like branches, they were the shadows of two people.

    She burst from her bed and peered out the window. She didn’t really expect anything, or rather, she didn’t know what she expected… Something to validate the dancing shadows on her ceiling? But along the empty street and empty sidewalk that circled the cul-de-sac of Keppling Drive there was nothing. She turned back to the ceiling and the little man and woman were branches again, flickering with the fan blades.

    She slid back into bed and stared back at the ceiling, the branches bouncing with the fan, and she concentrated hard, waiting for them to transform into the people she saw moments ago, but they didn’t. Instead, they morphed thicker and thicker till they were just blackness, but as suddenly as they engulfed her ceiling they became miniscule lines that waved at her.

    She felt a bit ill at the sudden change and blinked profusely to stop her head from spinning. Normal. Everything was normal.

    She closed her eyes and shifted in her bed.

    A Whisper in the Dark

    Hello?

    She opened her eyes and turned. Something had just whispered in her ear. It sounded raspy and old, weak and almost inaudible. But it was uncanny. She looked back up at the shadows on her ceiling and gasped. She would have screamed if the gasp hadn’t petrified her lungs. On the ceiling was a face.

    Do you like moving pictures?

    Tanya couldn’t speak. She definitely heard that. She just stared at the ceiling where the face became the little man and woman again. Dancing. Nothing sinister, just as before.

    You can make them dance too. You can make them do whatever you want. Go on. Try it.

    The Voice Behind the Puppets

    Suffice it to say, Tanya was terrified. What was talking to her? And it wanted her to try shadow puppetry? At 11:00 pm? She had school in the morning!

    She relaxed a little. The voice, though unfamiliar and rough, didn’t sound like a bad voice. Almost like grandpa. She focused on the dancing lovers and morphed them into dinosaurs, roaming her ceiling. Then she changed them into astronauts tethered to a space station. Then to her parents, scolding her and sending her to her room without dessert.

    She frowned at that. She had been doing her best not to think about it, but it had happened. She had come home with a less than perfect score on her algebra test, and her father was disappointed in her.

    Did that happen today?

    Tanya meakly spoke. “Yeah. I’m still kinda mad about it.”

    She’d done her best. Sure, she hadn’t really studied that much, but he didn’t have to yell at her so much.

    Her shadow father repeated what her father said before, “You’re better than this! You must work harder if you want to get anywhere in the world! Do you want to be a loser?”

    Tears were welling up and sliding down her pillow.

    I sure you did your best.

    She did. She really had done her best.

    Tanya’s Anger Grows

    Is there anything that I can help you with?

    The shadows changed to her father getting beaten up by two other shadows. And as she watched them punch and kick her father, two shadowy figures emerged from the corners of her room. Featureless, just large, dark human-like shapes.

    She didn’t want to beat up her father. She just wanted to sleep and forget about it.

    He’ll do it again if you don’t take back your power, Tanya.

    She felt the malice emanating from the shadow men. They seemed angrier than she was at the scolding, and the feelings of shame and guilt spread upon her like an infection. Her anger grew and she got out of bed. She should express exactly how she felt to her father. How dare he make her feel this way! It was one test, and she did as good as she could have.

    The Shadows Take Shape

    The shadow man closest to the door opened it and allowed Tanya to pass through, immediately following her with the other close behind. It was quiet for a moment, until Tanya and the shadows entered her parents’ room.

     

    Want another? Steady As She Goes

  • Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    Till the Cold and Hunger Ceases

    The Haunted Violin, Stradivinski

    The Carnegie Hall Debut

    Thomas smiled as he entered the stage to applause. The theater was packed; a sold-out show. He never believed he could make it this far. In four weeks, he went from slumming in the subway to playing in Carnegie Hall and it was all thanks to Stradivinski.

    He opened the violin case that sat on a stool in front of a microphone as the crowd hushed in anticipation. He pulled Stradivinski out of the case and closed his eyes, melding with the violin spirit, ready to move and press as was necessary.

    Possessed by the Music

    Stradivinski possessed him every time they played. Often Thomas had no memory of the concert. Thomas would always wake up to the audience cheering and clapping, take a bow, and put Stradivinski away. He didn’t even remember anything when Archie discovered him on the subway, nor did he remember how Stradivinski showed up.

    All he remembered was a dream. As he tried to sleep in the underground, struggling with cold and hunger, a voice came to him and asked him, “What would you give to live a better life?”

    And Thomas answered, “Everything. I would give everything to not feel cold and hungry ever again.” And he woke up with a curious box beside him.

    A Dream Deferred

    Thomas had left Pennsylvania three years prior to pursue an acting career. He’d always wanted to be in movies. Go on talk shows. And meet extraordinary people. He wasn’t very good at acting though. He always said, “I figure it out when I get there.”

    His parents had given him a large amount of money to follow his dream, but he spent it quickly and ended up paying the price by living in the underground. He didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t want to face his parents who would only tell him, “We told you so.” He tried to stay in the know about acting jobs, but it was getting harder and harder to do. No one wanted to talk to a homeless man who hadn’t shaved or washed in a month, and he couldn’t convince them that he was a star that would “pay them back,” if they gave him a chance.

    The Promise Fulfilled

    But here he was, finally making a name for himself, alongside Stradivinski. He was planning on calling his parents soon and proving to them he was doing fine, even if it took three years and four months, he’d made it.

    He woke up. Stradivinksi released its grip on him and the audience was silent. He looked out to see that they were all dead, dehydrated, like a bunch of mummies, their ritzy clothes clung to them, still bright and new but adorned tight, sun-dried husks of horror.

    The Curse Unleashed

    Thomas gasped and nearly fell over. The weight of Stradivinski increased immensely and Thomas lost his grip. With a clatter, Stradivinski tumbled onto the stage and shattered, revealing a pitch-black creature. It was serpent-like but had long arms with very long claws.

    Like lightning, it seized Thomas, pouncing before he could get back up to his feet. “Remember, you said you would give everything to stop the cold and hunger. I’ll keep that promise.”

    It ripped open his mouth, breaking the jaw, and crawled down his throat.

     

    Want another? Shadow Puppets

  • Lovecraft Write Life

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  • Advertorial

    Advertorial

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  • The Cutter’s Club Part 2

    It had been three years since Devon had been abducted by the cutting couple and he had never left the chair or the white, opening-less room. His body had atrophied, he was more skin and fat than muscle and blood any more. He was fed every day, three meals, aside from the cutting, the couple took pretty good care of him.

    His body was covered in scars. There really wasn’t a spot that wasn’t a pink, red, or purple line. It itched, and Devon wished he could scratch… at the same time it wasn’t necessary. He had given up on leaving. He was stuck there. Everyday he was molested and cut. He had been raped by several individuals, who came and went like fresh air. His favorite moments, were the moments he was alone, but there were also the rare moments where his captors let him participate.

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