Category Archives: creative writing

The House on the Side of the Road (finale) ~ #TuesdayTales #shortstory

05 Tuesday Jun 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story, Tuesday Tales

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Each Tuesday (unless i forget), I will be sharing a short story, over several parts.  When one ends, I will begin another the following week.  I hope you enjoy!   🙂

PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE


When I awakened, I found myself alone. At least I hoped I was alone. I could make out some of the objects in the room. This only meant there had to be a light source of some kind coming in, perhaps from under the door. I gave my eyes a chance to adjust, hoping they wouldn’t play tricks on me. Finally! I could see the room, the furniture, and jumped for joy when nothing occupied the chair but an old blanket. This had to be a nightmare, right?

But it wasn’t. Just as I let my guard down a bit, his laughter filled the room. A sinister, barbaric laugh that sent chills throughout my body. I made no attempt to get any closer to the door, where, in fact, some light was trickling through. It was opening, slowly, but opening. Do I try to make my escape? Something inside of me said “run!’, but my feet wouldn’t move. I was doomed by my own trepidation.

A glint of light caught my eye. Something flashed against the silver doorknob, and was gone. Must be my eyes playing tricks with me. I didn’t think they could adjust any more than they had, so I gave in to the fact that I was seeing things. But I definitely heard something. It wasn’t the housekeeper, he had closed the door and continued laughing down the hallway. Who or what, something was in the room with me, and this time it wasn’t the mouse.

As I turned to get a sense of direction from the noise, I saw her. Not her. Me. Wielding a knife and coming right at me! I had no place to run. She had me cornered, I mean I had me cornered. I had no idea what was happening, only that at any given moment, I was going to die, and my fate lied in my own hands. But it didn’t matter what I thought. The knife came down and pierced my heart, blood rushing to the surface, covering my hand as I tried to stop it. I wasn’t going to make it out alive. It was then I realized, my own fear had killed me.

 

The End

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

The House on the Side of the Road (part 3) ~ #TuesdayTales #shortstory

15 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story, Tuesday Tales

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Each Tuesday (unless i forget), I will be sharing a short story, over several parts.  When one ends, I will begin another the following week.  I hope you enjoy!   🙂

Part One

Part Two


Beyond the door, I could hear his sinister laugh echoing in the hallways. Trying to compose myself, and refocus on what it was I was seeing, I found myself stepping backward, away from what I could only assume was a dead body. And a fresh one, at that. Who had met their untimely fate? I continued to search the room, hoping to find some sort of light source I could use. Making my way across the room, I tripped on something. Petrified it could be another body, I froze in place. Looking down, I heaved a sigh of relief when I realized it was a rolled up rug. There was nothing human about it.

I continued, feeling my way around the room, bumping into furniture I didn’t even know was there. I was frantic, his laughter still filling my ears. Who was this evil being and why did he lock me in this room?! I swore I would never ever play Pokémon Go on my phone, again. It had drained the battery and thus, I found myself here. No game was worth losing your life over, yet, here I was, trying to hold on for my own dear one.

What was that? From across the room, the part of the room I chose to run from, was a rustling noise. Perhaps it’s just a mouse, or my luck, a rat. Either way, a rodent was the least of my troubles. Trying to forget the noise, I continued my search for something I could use to cast light in this horrid place. The rustling was getting louder. I suppose whatever it was, was heading my way, so I stopped. I stood, trying to remain calm and quiet at the same time, having a hard time doing both. My imagination started working on me. I pictured this huge rat walking towards me, on hind legs, teeth bared, sizing me up for his next meal. I was grateful when I saw the little mouse scurry across the floor, but I didn’t let my guard down.

Footsteps. He was returning. I should wait by the door, and make a mad dash through it, making my escape! Feeling my way, trying not to bang into every piece of furniture my shins were finding, I saw the door slowly opening. I was just about to run when I felt something on my shoulder. Perhaps the rat had found me after all. Reaching up, I could tell the object on my shoulder was a hand. I slowly turned around, and once again, let out this incredible scream. I think I fainted, because everything went black.

To be continued…

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

The House on the Side of the Road (part 2) ~ #TuesdayTales #shortstory

08 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story, Tuesday Tales

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Each Tuesday (unless i forget), I will be sharing a short story, over several parts.  When one ends, I will begin another the following week.  I hope you enjoy!   🙂

Part One


I couldn’t recollect the last time I felt this imminent doom in my bones. I felt myself start to shiver and tried to brush it off to nerves. But it was incredibly cold where I stood. I walked toward a wall, and discovered a window, that had been boarded up. Perhaps there was a draft coming in from the cracks in the wood. Of course, that must be it. But why were the windows shuttered this way?

As I pondered over this, I felt another presence in the room with me. I turned and saw the elderly gent, who had let me in, standing there with an evil grin, and holding what appeared to be a cordless phone, in his hand. He cleared his throat, and in a graveled pitch, proceeded to tell me the storm had knocked out the service and there was no way to make a call. I should kick myself for allowing my cell phone to die. Stupid games I play, I now got myself caught up in one, that wasn’t a game at all.

Asking if it was okay for me to ride out the storm in the house, the old man laughed, saying something along the lines of “suit yourself”, and then disappeared yet again! Damn! I forgot to ask for a candle and a blanket. I suppose he’d sneer at me even more for requesting these things. I fumbled my way around the room, hoping to find something that would shed light on this space, I was entrapped in.

I was moving slowly when I bumped into something that felt odd. I reached out again, and felt the warmth coming off whatever it was I had found. Trying hard to see what it was, I widened my eyes, and let out a blood curdling scream…

 

To be continued…

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

The House on the Side of the Road ~ #TuesdayTales #shortstory

01 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story, Tuesday Tales

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Each Tuesday (unless i forget), I will be sharing a short story, over several parts.  When one ends, I will begin another the following week.  I hope you enjoy!   🙂


It quietly sneaked in. The haze grew, as twilight approached, and night fell on this quiet little town. A hint of sunlight played in a few white clouds, but mostly, the light faded away. A flutter of a breeze took me by surprise, as did the rain that began to splash on my face. Looking up, as most others do when hit by random water drops, I thought I saw something in the sky. I stared a bit longer, and decided it must be the clouds, moving with the winds, across the heavens.

I continued my walk, picking up the pace as the rain became more of a steady shower. Again, the wind kicked up, with a fury that could have picked me up and transplanted me across town. I found myself running for cover, not sure exactly where but not really caring either. I came upon an old house on the side of the road, one I was sure I had never seen before. I ran up to the door, rang the bell, without even a thought of my own safety, other than finding shelter from whatever storm had decided to arrive without warning.

I rang the bell again, and as the sky let out this tremendous clap of thunder, the door slowly opened. There, in the shadows of candlelight, stood an old man. I use the term loosely, because, he was barely standing at all. An angry look on his face took me by surprise. I explained my predicament, asking only to use the phone to call my friend for a ride. He looked at me, looked at the sky, now filled with flashes of lightning, and slowly stepped away from the door, allowing me to pass through.

I turned to ask where the phone was, and found myself alone in a dark and musty room. He was gone. Maybe he had gone to get the phone for me. I waited. And as I did, I could feel a heaviness in the air. I had no idea where I was, only a sinking feeling I wasn’t getting out anytime soon…

 

To be continued…

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

All are Welcome ~ #spirits #creativewriting

29 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story

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This old house creaks, and I along with it. Are we aging together or is it I am aging alone. Sounds in the wee hours, as if someone is running water, making tea, perhaps, but never inviting me. It’s only for a moment and then it stops, until a door hinge creaks. I must remember to put some oil on it. And the windows, new, but still a draft, as the curtain flutters with the wind, sending chills through these old bones. Footsteps in the hallway, the pitter-patter of a child, aimlessly walking in the night. Do you feel her, too?

I am aging, but not senile, and I am not alone. I have opened my doors to another realm, one that is not afraid to take residence in mine, and I, not afraid to welcome them in.

 

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0