 Horror/Scary: June 01, 2011 Issue [#4422] |
  Horror/Scary
This week: The Anguish Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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THE ANGUISH
Has anyone but me noticed that the world is spiraling out of control?
Just watch the news and you'll get all the horror you need for a day.
It's weird, but I find it harder and harder to function when everything around me seems to be going to hell-in-a-hand-basket; it paralyzes me, stops my creativity.
Up here in the northwestern part of the United States it just rains and rains all day. It never stops. And when it's not raining, there's a heavy overcast that covers the sky from horizon to horizon. Maybe that's why Washington State has one of the highest suicide rates.
Regardless, I find myself longing to feel the warmth of the sun again, and to see the blue of the sky. The weather is depressing here, but to be honest, I'm not the type of guy who gets easily depressed. And yet, I have this precognitive feeling that something sinister is happening around me. There's something's going on that I don't understand, lying just under all those black clouds. I can feel it's there, but can't quite put my finger on it.
All I know is that if the world is spiraling out of control. Then the question is . . . why?
So I started writing this story about it.
You know me, I'm a conspiracy nut. But what if I'm not the only one? What if everybody everywhere feels exactly the same way? Are we headed for a major revolution, or civil war? Can people become so disheartened, so depressed, that the thought of suicide is the only alternative?
My tale here is not quite finished, because to write it is depressing. And then again, maybe I'll never finish it. But I do feel compelled to write it.
It's called . . .
THE ANGUISH
When Jeffery Solomon awoke he felt different somehow. He didn't know why, he just felt . . . not himself.
Looking outside his bedroom window the gray overcast sky spelled rain to anybody living in the Seattle area. It always rained; it was just a matter of when and for how long. But for some reason Jeff thought it'd be the perfect day to mow the yard.
He pulled-on his dirty work clothes and headed outside, gassed-up the mower, and then pulled the starter rope. The motor roared to life after three pulls, vibrated through the handle, up his arms, and into his teeth. The sound and feel of it made Jeffery happy.
He started on the edge of the grass like always, took a straight line, and then for no apparent reason, began to zigzag across the yard. The whole time he just watched the blades spinning round and round. Again, he didn't know why, it just seemed like the right thing to do.
When the grass-catcher began to fill, he clenched the kill-switch bar to keep the motor running, and then reached down to push back the cut grass.
He was mesmerized by the whirl of the blades, the smell of the fresh cut grass, the warmth of the motor; it all seemed so inviting somehow. Without hesitating, he stuck his hand into the blades until they kicked it out again like a piece of chopped dead wood.
At first he felt a dull, numbing pain, followed by a brutal stinging sensation. Jeff held up his bleeding stump of a hand and saw he was missing three fingers and half a thumb. His pinky was still intact, now after all these years finally becoming the longest finger on his hand. The pain churned within him like a fiery exuberance that felt overwhelmingly satisfying. Jeff wanted to put his other hand in, but realized that if he let go of the emergency kill-switch, the mower would shut down.
So he kicked off his shoes. God, this is going to be a good day, he thought, and then jammed his left foot into the mower as hard as he could.
The heavens cracked and flashed as if celestial armies were at war, and when the downpour hit, the thunder rolled from a far horizon.
Melanie Trump, newspaper reporter, drove home in the rain from a long day's work at the Seattle Times. The new storm played a drum roll across her windshield that her car's wipers were unable to defeat.
The on-coming traffic became a blur, and Melanie saw the headlights as nothing more than lit objects streaming past the fringes of a dream she couldn't wake up from.
She wondered then how it would be to smash head-on into another car; what the pain would feel like when the front end of her Mercedes crumpled-in upon her and filled the front seat with nothing but bent and twisted metal. As she gripped the steering wheel tighter, she imagined what it would be like to have it come crushing in on her breasts until there was no more room for her at all.
The idea captivated her; the thought of the pain lured her into its web. And while her imagination continued to spin a thousand different bloody scenarios in mere seconds, her eyes began to roll up inside her head as if she were having an orgasm. Without hesitating, she stomped the gas-pedal down and jerked the wheel to the left and into the nearest on-coming car.
Until next time, if we are ever able to meet each other again in a world we still regonize,
Good Luck and God Bless,
billwilcox
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Wicked Wretchedness
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DEAD LETTERS
Specter 
Comments:
Dear Mr. Wilcox,
I was wondering who was going to POP the BIG BUBBLE!
I don't know if you wrote your newsletter about ALIENS as a ruse, or what! What gets me in all of this huge mess, is that no one has gotten down to the bottom line of the real truth in the Bible. The Bible does refer to these aliens, as the, Sons of God. The Essenes in the Dead Sea Scrolls refers to them as, the Sons of Light and, the Sons of Darkness.
The UFO crashes did not occur by accident. These craft were shot down by their counterparts--The Sons of Light.
No one has understood the prophecy! If they did, it would blow their socks off, peroid!
Faith can go a long way to help understand what's coming. Even the aliens shake at the thought, but they will say nothing about it. To this end, Christ will come to rebuild the destroyed earth, and all evil will be utterly gone, whether it's men or aliens.
If you have any questions on this matter, I think I can answer them. Christians can stick by their doctrines, but I will stand on the truth.
-slick
rachie
Comments:
like i am ever shy....we come from somewhere and are formed by everything whether tradgedy or blessing. this last one is a conspricy doooozeee.
good thoughts to you and yours,
-rachie
drifter46
Comments:
Pathetic earth creature. Your theory is sadly lacking. You will be reprogrammed for use as a writer of horror fiction!
BIG BAD WOLF Feeling Thankful 
Comments:
Wow, aliens taking over everything. Well, I guess it could be worse. There might be zombies. Uh oh! Too late! "Dead Rising Interview"
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