  Horror/Scary
This week: Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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Describing The Crime Scene
Everyone seems to love the CSI television shows. So, wanting to see what all the hub-bub was about, I decided to watch one, and immediately made a simple observation....
Sometimes...you can get away with telling the reader what happened rather than showing.
I believe this is true of most mystery crime scenes. We, as the reader (the proverbial, fly on the wall), can imagine all too well what took place if the scene is described well.
“Was the woman killed here?” the detective asked as he circled around the burley lab technician who was dusting furniture for fingerprints.
“No,” the patrolman said. “Not enough blood.” He combed one hand through his hair as he walked, visibly shaken. “Killed somewhere else and…and brought here.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see why. But damned if you’ll understand it.”
Puzzling over the cryptic statement, the detective trailed him down a hallway into the master bedroom. He gasped at the sight awaiting him and for a moment could not breathe.
“Jesus…”
Both bedside lamps were burning, and though there were still shadows around the edges of the room, the corpse was in the brightest spot, mouth open, eyes wide with a vision of death. She had been stripped naked and nailed to the wall. One nail just below each elbow joint. One in each foot. And a large spike through the hollow of the throat. It was not precisely the classic pose of crucifixion, for the legs were immodestly spread, but it was close.
A police photographer was still snapping the corpse from every angle. With each flash of his strobe unit, the dead woman seemed to move on the wall; it was only an illusion, but she appeared to twitch as if straining at the nails that held her.
He had never seen anything as savage as the crucifixion of the dead woman, yet it had obviously been done not in a white-hot madness but with cold calculation. Clearly, the woman had already been dead when brought here, for the nail holes weren’t bleeding. Her slender throat had been slashed, and that was evidently the mortal wound. The killer—or killers—had expended considerable time and energy finding the nails and hammer (which now lay on the floor in one corner of the room), hoisting the corpse against the wall, holding it in place, and precisely driving the impaling spikes through the cool dead flesh. It seems the head had drooped down, chin to chest, and apparently the killer had wanted the dead woman to be staring at the bedroom door (a grisly surprise for the homeowner), so he had looped a wire under the chin and had tied it tautly to a nail driven into the wall above her skull, to keep her facing out. Finally he had taped her eyes open—so she would be staring sightlessly at whoever discovered her.
“Christ,” he said. "Does every Halloween have to be like this?”
“I’m afraid it gets worse every year.”
The photographer’s camera flashed.
The corpse seemed to twitch.
Flash, twitch.
Flash, twitch.
Until next time,
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
billwilcox
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Stories To Creep You Out...
| |  | Invalid Item
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#1280215 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: The perfect woman: long, beautiful legs, unmarred by the black marble column he had crushed her head with, and no mouth with which to berate him.
| | | Invalid Item
This item number is not valid.
#1417136 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: Hatred boils quicker than water in Hell. He slashes with the knife and catches her above the eye. He slashes again. Her cheek splits open. Again. Her neck is marred. Again. Her plastic boob bleeds.
| | | Invalid Item
This item number is not valid.
#1445446 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: The boy’s mother, dressed in a pink nightgown, complete with curlers in her hair, started to turn and run. The dog pounced and toppled into the boy’s mother, bringing her down to the ground. A cloud of dry dust and dirt billowed up into the air as if the ground had just breathed for the first time in years.
| | | Invalid Item
This item number is not valid.
#726466 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: With a crash and a splintering of wood the wardrobe doors burst open and a heavy wooden coat hanger flew through the air. It had been hurled with such force that when it hit the main light bulb, the bulb exploded in fragments and the room was plunged into semi-darkness again.
| |  | Ritual (18+)
What would you do to feel like you belong?
#1457074 by Jeff  |
Excerpt: Josh unceremoniously dragged her to a stone slab in the middle of the room, and hoisted her up onto it. She did her best to fight against him, but he was incredibly strong, and before she knew it, found herself being chained to the slab.
Excerpt: "John?" she called. "It's me. Aren't you glad to see me?" Her voice gurgled and sounded as if she were choking on her own blood.
"No...no, you're dead. Go away!" A moan passed his lips as he shook his head in denial.
She stopped in front of him, wobbled, and then opened her arms. In a muddled and graveled voice, she said, "But I've missed you so much, John. Come on, give me a hug."
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Email From The Pit
Adriana Noir 
Submitted Comment:
Excellent lesson on baiting a reader into the full ride, Bill. Your breadcrumbs left me starving for more! As always, you give priceless bits of wisdom to help us all hone our skills. Oh..and thanks for featuring my story. Looking forward to the next round.
schipperke
Submitted Comment:
Look what happened to Hansel and Gretel when they followed the bread crumbs!
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Horror/Scary: October 22, 2008 Issue [#2672]
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