Sample Story One
The Calling Cards Of The Scarlet Hell
“A bump in the night, a scarlet fight! Better watch out! Tonight is the night! This hell, your sorry woe, too soon to tell, too late to scream. Nothing more, to look forward to, your time is up!!” This is all the crumbled not one the desk reads as the man slams down the phone roughly back onto the receiver, before storming off and ranting in a scared impatient, almost stuttering tone. “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! The phone line is out, holly SHIT! Are the letters really coming true?!” He rushes to pick up the note on the desk, gripping it tightly in his panicked hand as he runs to the trash can in the kitchen across the house. Pictures fly past him as he rushes through the hall way to the living room, then he stop abruptly with a panicked look on his face. He stands there frozen in place, as sweat slows down from his head, down to his chin and drops the hard wood oak floors. He grips the crumpled paper tighter in his quivering hand as he slowly turns to a picture on his right, slowly his head turns to see it clearly, as his heart pounds faster and faster as the picture becomes blurred in his panicked eyes.
The man stumbles closer to the wall and loses his balance falling against the wall with a loud thud, making the pictures jump off the wall slightly before they fall back into play. Soon the man starts wheezing, as his fear was confirmed, the picture sits there motion less almost mocking him as he moves the paper in his hand to the picture and holds it to the wall with his palm next to the picture. His wheezing only hastens to see the same exact blood soaked hand print on the picture, as on the strange note left for him on his desk. It was clearly the same smaller hand, covered in scars, scars mad from a small knife, cuts used to make the blood on both the picture. The man only breaths harder realizing the picture is of him and his family, the man, his slightly younger red headed wife, and there young child. The man jumps off the wall back on course to the kitchen, running and wheezing in fear as he stumbles through the living room and rushes to the kitchen as he kicks over the trash can and trips as he falls to the floor with a loud thump.
The man sits up holding his head as the light comes back to his eyes before he starts tossing aside the trash as he looks for the other notes left for him across his house. He stumbles around in the trash for a few moments as he finds and picks up all five of the notes left for him in the past month. “Ever since that god damned night!” he screamed loudly, almost expecting to hear a response from someone, a laugh, or an explanation; but the stillness of night in the quiet house, immersed in panic and the fear of his wife and son he looks around scanning the house from where he stood in the kitchen. The house was seemingly still and empty, except for him and his mess in his panicked haste. He quickly scanned the other letters, all having the same, horrifying blood stained hand print, and all of them in poem form. The hand print and two other similarities were the only connections between them, the repeated use of the word scarlet fright and sending the man to hell. The man threw the crumpled letter to the side in a panicked fright as he stumbled his way to his bedroom. His eyes fixed and staring at the floor as he walks, almost in a zombie like state as he stumbles and trips his way to the other side of the house once again.
He finds his way through the hall down to his bed room as he slowly stumbles into his room, clumsily tripping slightly every few steps or so. He trips and lands on the wall hard again with the same loud them as he uses the wall to pull him to the closet. He reaches the door and keeps one hand on the wall to keep him up and uses the other to throw open the door roughly letting it hit the wall leaving a dent from the door handle in the wall. He stumbles into the closet and fall on his knees hard as he shuffles through the closet for something hidden behind all the dangling cloths and shoes. Finally his hand knocks against a small metal safe, he pulls it towards himself as he fumbles with the dial, spinning it to both sides many times. He places his other hand on his head and knocks his head a few times before shouting “WHAT IS THAT FUCKING COMBINATION?!” before pushing the safe back in a fit. He clutches his fists tightly before screaming at the top of his lounges in anger. He raises his left fist and cocks it back before punching the safes face as hard as he can. Screams of pure pain puncture throughout the house, like a wounded animal separated from the pack before the predator picks off his meal. The man quickly turns around and stands to see a black figure behind him.
He blinks several times to focus his eyes to see his red headed wife standing before him as she says “Honey?! What’s wrong are you ok?” as she notices her husband’s broken and bleeding knuckles and in a shrilled almost squeaking voice says “Honey your hand?! What is goin……” the man’s wife stands there frozen mid-sentence as a small stream of blood drips down from the corner of her moth, soon another stream of blood flowing from her left eye. Soon she fall against the man as he stands there shocked by this sight. He slowly drops his wife’s lifeless body to the ground, the man completely frozen in fear. He stands staring at a bloody knife stares him in the face, blood dripping from the blade, his wife’s blood as it was just stabbed into the back of her skull. The man refocuses his eyes to the figure holding the knife, even more shocked at the site. He shakes in complete denial, telling himself that what he is seeing isn’t real. The figure takes a step closer.
The man flinches backwards to avoid “it”. The man studies “it” closely, “it” was a man in overalls and no under shit, with straw coming out of its bare skin. As he looks up at its face the man is only shocked more. The Monsters head is replaced by a pumpkin, the face of it was stitched on in bloody threads. Blood stained on the pumpkin almost like tears streaming from the eyes and mouth, the face was stitched in a crude yet eerie smile and narrow curved eyes. The man suddenly collapsed in fear and fell to the floor hitting his head hard on the wall on the way down. A small piece of paper flutters down and lands right in front of the man’s eyes. He only gets one good look at it before the light fades slowly and the world is blurred into total darkness. All the man can think about the words on the paper as he slowly slips away.
