Tag Archives: fear

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

05 Tuesday Jun 2018

Posted by in creative writing, short story, Tuesday Tales

≈ 9 Comments

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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

Empty Eyes ~ #shortstory #fiction

23 Monday Apr 2018

Posted by in Fiction, short story, The Daily Post

≈ 20 Comments

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He was beyond vague in his approach. She caught him, several times, checking her out, but he never spoke to her. One day, she decided she would speak to him if she caught him again. As chance would have it, it happened later that day. She could feel eyes upon her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up against the goosebumps that began piercing her skin.

Glancing upward, she saw him staring at her. Standing, legs trembling, hoping she wouldn’t make a total fool out of herself, she stared back and smiled. His face didn’t change. He just kept staring back at her. He was quite ambiguous, not reflecting exactly who he was. Before she realized it, she was speaking to him. His expression remained as rigid as his stance. He had an empty look in his eyes, something she never noticed before. Of course, she never looked at him long enough to notice.

Since there was no response from him, she sat back down, and continued her work. But there was an uneasiness in her bones, a subtle yet quite obvious feeling she was still being watched. When she looked up again, he was gone. Not trying to give it another thought, she returned to her tasks. Before she knew it, it was time to go home. She let out a sigh, gathered her things, and headed for the parking garage.

The click of her high heels were the only sounds emanating from the underground structure. She thought she heard a noise, and stopped to turn around, but no one was there. She felt odd, and decided to take her shoes off, taking a speedier pace to get to her car. He was there. Standing by her car door, that same unchanging look on his face. She gasped, not knowing if she should turn around and run back to the building, or just run anywhere to get away from him. She decided to run back. Head down, she made a mad dash for the office building’s entrance. It was locked. Panicking, she turned to see where he was but couldn’t find him. But she felt him. He made her skin crawl with fear. She knew he was nearby. And he was, directly behind her. She could feel his breath against her neck. She felt a sharp pain in her skin, then the warmth of her blood rushing over her. He had claimed his prize, and she, would never again fear his empty eyes.

 

The Daily Post: Vague

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay

The House On Grayson Place (The Disappearance)

18 Thursday Jan 2018

Posted by in Poems, Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

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Remember the house on Grayson Place

Not quite sure just where it’s gone

It appears, now, to be an empty space

Perhaps it was never there, all along

A pile of grassy dirt lays claim

To the lot, where it once stood

The neighborhood’s never been the same

Not quite sure it really should

Remind us, of the woman, who

We could hear, from dawn til dusk

Her howling shrill, would pierce right though

Ever long, and rather brusque

We knew better than to get too near

Strange things happened much too fast

How she filled us with this dreadful fear

A woman, who was marked, an outcast

 

Part One can be found here

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

50 Word Story ~ Autumn left me – #writing

04 Monday Dec 2017

Posted by in 50 Word Story, creative writing

≈ 7 Comments

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The weather was turning. I could feel the winter wind strike a glancing blow across my face. Teary eyed, I watched, accepting the fact autumn would be leaving me. Icier days grew closer, and I drew deeper into myself. I couldn’t bear watching, for fear I’d never see her again.

 

©2017 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Sitting on the Sidewalk ~ #poetry of the #homeless

01 Friday Dec 2017

Posted by in Poems, Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

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The rustle of dried up leaves
No welcome sound to ancient ears
Another season comes to an end
Autumn’s gone, as winter nears

How he hates the cold, dark days
When the wind whips through his bones
How he longs for summertime
When warmth is offered, as his home

Cardboard walls, no privacy
Kicked about by strangers feet
Unaware, that he lives there
To them it’s just another street

On days where he can stand the cold
He sits, bundled in a threadbare coat
Hoping they’ll notice how hungry he is
Carefully reading his scribbled note

Most will only smile, in dismay
Not really knowing what they fear
And he sits on the sidewalk, outside his box
As his darkness draws another tear

 

©2017 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0