Howlietzer Publishing

Tag: stories

  • The Curse of Spring-Heeled Jack Part 3

    Bartholomew went to bed early that night, with an unshakeable, eerie feeling. There was something strange about that day after leaving Ms. Berkley’s garden. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him from the corners of his eyes, and when he turned to look, no one was there, like a ghost forever haunting his blind spot.

    Bartholomew still lived with his parents in a little house in a little London suburb called Hollowfield. And after light supper, Bartholomew wished them goodnight and went to bed to ease his worried mind.

    But even under the safety of his covers, in his bed, he felt the eyes of some invisible demon watching him from the darkest corner of his room. Bartholomew focused his eyes, afraid to shut them in case the whatever was to be right in his face the immediate moment he opened his eyes again.

    But as the night wore on, he found his eyes neglecting their midnight duties, and like tired soldiers they drifted off to sleep in the silence of the dark room…

    Bartholomew woke up, startled, struggling to inhale a decent breath for his lungs, as he felt the weight of something heavy on his chest. His window, which was closed before he snuggled into bed that night, was wide open with a deadly cold wind blowing in, but that wasn’t what made Bartholomew quiver in his bed. Sitting on his chest was a man, or what looked like a man. It wore a white ceramic mask with a cocky smirk drawn on and devil horns poking out of the forehead, and in the openings where the eyes were supposed to be, were two red glowing lights.

    (more…)

  • The Curse of Spring-Heeled Jack Part 2

    “Thank you for allowing me to come over, Ms. Berkley,” said Bartholomew as the two sipped tea on her garden porch. Ms. Berkley smiled, the few wrinkles on her face betraying her age, however her young, blue eyes, so captivating, dispelled any discomfort of his own attraction for her.

    “Well, I so glad that you would be honest enough to come by and fix any mistake you made last time you were here,” she said, winking at him. He had that uncomfortable feeling again. Maybe it was because he was so young and she was so much older, but if he wasn’t so preoccupied with his monster hunt, he would be easily persuaded to stay a while longer and inch his way to her upstairs room.

    She was extraordinarily lovely, her light blond hair teased and flowing like a willows branches down to her shoulders, and her light green sun dress, with its low-cut front made her look like a dryad from the fantasy novels he used to read as a child.

    He blushed, as he felt hotter and hotter from the conversation and he couldn’t help but think she was looking to get a little lucky herself, but surely a beautiful woman such as herself didn’t have trouble finding a man to sleep with.

    “Wow, that sun is beating down, isn’t it?” he asked, trying to find a more innocent subject to dwell on.

    (more…)

  • The Curse of Spring-Heeled Jack Part 1

    The name had been scarcely heard for generations, only a murmur of the rumoured scoundrel survived after the first attacks, but every once in a while a new story would perk up, as it happened to Bartholomew Craig not so long ago.

    Bartholomew, a young man who just graduated high school, spent the bulk of his time working landscape in the suburbs of London. Mowing grass, raking mulch, trimming hedges, it all kept Barty quite busy, so busy it left him with little time to spend with his friends during this last summer before university.

    It was quite lonely; the most interaction he had was with his clients who had hired him to look after their yards. One, in particular, Ms. Berkley, a retired socialite and rather easy on the eyes for a woman her age, was his favorite, for not only was she pretty but she gave him the most generous tips.

    It was in her yard that he saw an unknown man, or what he supposed was a man until it leaped clear over Ms. Berkley’s six-foot high hedges. Barty couldn’t forget his jet black hair and exquisitely, shiny black suit; he was obviously a suitor of the woman of the house, but what Barty found most peculiar (besides his ability to jump over the hedge, of course) was this white, ceramic mask he was wearing.

    It had devil horns protruding from the forehead and a cocky smirk drawn on the face. There were holes for eyes and nostrils, but Barty was sure he didn’t notice any eyes behind it, but that was overshadowed by his incredible agility and anything beyond that seemed inconsequential besides.

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  • The Mothman Reborn Epilogue

    Daryl woke up to find his body healed. He looked whole, as if he hadn’t been in a fight at all. ‘Was it all a dream?’ he thought as he stood up. He didn’t know. He couldn’t figure out how he ended up in a ditch outside the power plant if was a dream, but he was completely unmarked. He did know one thing though, he felt a lot stronger, more than he had ever felt before.

    He looked towards the city. The festival must have shut down for the night; his mother must have been worried by now… He faced towards home and walked down the road in the peaceful darkness.

    It was an old house. It needed a lot of care, with the grass growing uncontrollably and the paint chipping unbearably, the house resembled a dying shack than a home, but with his mother working two jobs, she had little time to do  anything about it and his father had left them a long time ago.

    Daryl walked inside to find his mother, asleep on the couch, the TV on, the news blaring like a megaphone. He looked over to her sleeping body, seeing her shiver, he draped a discarded blanket lying on the floor on top of her. Tucking her in gently, he turned his attention to the TV and was about to turn it of when he saw what looked like a door with claw marks running across it.

    Daryl felt his heart stop as he turned the volume low and sank into an easy chair.

    The Holler residence appeared, looking normal until the newsman interviewed the Hollers themselves. disheveled and frightened, they retold their story, claiming they were visited by the mothman.

    Daryl’s body shook. ‘Was that me?’ he thought, ‘Was all that real?’

    Another voice answered from inside that made him shiver, ‘Yes, it was.’

    Mothman 1

    Mothman 2

    Mothman 3

    Mothman 4

    Mothman 5

  • The Mothman Reborn Part 5

    ‘Where are you going? Weren’t you going to destroy Kevin, his family and the rest of this shit-hole town?’

    ‘I’m not going to do that,’ thought Daryl, ‘I’m going back to my body and I’m never doing this again.’

    ‘Our body, you mean,’ it said, ‘You can’t get rid of me now, and I can control you and everything myself if I have to.’

    “I won’t let you,” Daryl said aloud.

    ‘Oh? You really think so? Your body is as good as mine. You’re weak! It’s why that Holler kid picked on you so bad. You couldn’t do what needed to be done because you’re a scared little bitch. When we get back to my body, I’m locking you up so tight in my subconscious that even in my dreams I won’t hear your insignificant bitching.’

    …”You really think so?”

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