20141130

Day 210

The area by the docks was still under construction which made it perfect for exploring.
The small car park nearby was dimly lit by the pub's garish lights across the street.
You figured any noise they made would mask just about anything you did.

Apparently they were building a new hotel but it had been a concrete skeleton for 4 years now.
Rumours spread about them finding something in the foundations, among the other rumours
that the company had run out of money and couldn't afford to knock it down.

You hoped your torch would work this time, it had completely conked out on you in a "haunted"
graveyard in Canewdon which cut your visit sadly short.
This time you were prepared with a packet of new batteries and a spare torch just in case.

You were determined to be the first to find out and document this fleshless building.
It was almost four AM, while the pub was in full swing everywhere else was totally dead.
You walked casually up to the lock and began to work on it, having seen a tutorial on just this.

To anyone walking by you would look like a construction worker: hardhat, high vis jacket, the works.
It took you longer then you'd admit to get the lock off but the door swung open easy enough.
Quietly placing an orange traffic cone outside the door, you closed it and turned on your torch.

The ground floor was nothing overly special so far, just half paved foundations and a concrete
staircase leading to the next floor.
It seemed colder as you walked further along, gradually moving from concrete to dirt as you shone
your dim torchlight all around, being careful to not shine it upwards and attract attention.

It was pretty cool to see the metal mesh they laid down and the concrete that came to just underneath.
You tested your weight and found it was stable enough to walk on but it didn't look like there was
anything more over there so you headed back to the staircase, hoping it could hold you.

The first few steps were stable but it wobbled slightly as you climbed higher.
Hugging the inner wall you made it to the first floor and began to carefully walk around, still unsure
as to how stable it was around there.

You saw that they'd only done part of this floor and thought a photo over the ledge would look
great so you began to crawl closer to it, first on all fours then army crawling on your stomach.
The floor didn't dip under you so you counted it as a success.

You shone your torch down, trying to find a good area to shoot when suddenly it slipped out of your
hands and fell clattering to the ground.
It was off so you thought it was broken, at least you had your spare which you quickly pulled out of
the side pocket of your backpack.

As you fumbled for the "on" switch you heard a faint click from below you and a torchlight shone
towards where you lay.
You heard heavy breathing as someone (something?) dragged their feet around the ground floor,
shining your torch.

Cautiously you held your phone over the ledge and took a photo, just in case it was a security
guard who'd been sleeping on the job and you hadn't noticed them.
It wasn't a guard.

Although blurred, you made out what looked to be two people crushed together but trying to pull apart.
You heard wet footsteps coming up the stairs and thought about jumping down as they got closer,
they can't run fast if they're all squished, right?

It was your only shot at getting safely past whatever was coming so you dangled your feet over and
looked behind you for their - your torch.
Every moment was agonisingly long, their moist footsteps thumped up the stairs slower.

It was then you heard two set of whistling coming from them.
The tune was strange, out of key yet somewhat harmonic... like a child's own lullaby.
Maybe they were harmless, what if they were just coming to give your torch back?

You remained where you were just in case as they could still be dangerous.
When they reached your floor the whistling stopped, replaced by heavy breathing and faint coughs.
The faint coughs soon turned to one hacking, gasping cough and one set of gentle shushing.

When the coughing died down, the whistling resumed, quieter than before.
The torchlight shone hesitantly around until it fell on you.
Two sets of gentle shushing sounded as they dragged their damp feet closer and closer to you.

Feeling brave you stood up, one hand outstretched, torch in the other trying to look harmless.
You shone your own light towards them and saw them clearly for the first time.

They looked somewhat human only bigger, their heads were the size of your torso, all distended
and bulbous as was the rest of them.
Their clothing consisted of what looked to be an old tarpaulin sheet with boot prints all over.

They weren't exactly one two-headed being, they looked more like a human-ish version of two
gummy bears bit in half and partially stuck together with saliva.
As they stopped a few feet before you, heads tilting side-to-side in confusion and curiosity you
could see why their footsteps sounded wet.

Their feet were totally mangled and their lower legs had jagged cuts in several places.
"H-h-hello" you just about managed, voice coming out as a shaky croak.
One head smiled widely, gums bleeding, but happy.
"Hello" said the other, whose voice sounded like gravel.

This head asked why you were there, you stammered that you just liked exploring abandoned areas.
They looked sadly at each other before the speaking head turned to you and murmured,
"So we are alone. We weren't sure."

You found out they had been found under the ground, most of the construction workers were
horrified and ran away.
Except one.

She stayed and helped them turn an old sheet into clothing, convinced the others to come back.
They were so untrusting of them, always crossing themselves whenever they saw the beings.
Eventually the workers dwindled and left, even she left.

She said she'd be back with a trailer to take them someplace safe.
You felt guilty for mentioning the place was abandoned and vowed to the sad beings that you would
visit them every night from now on.

Their faces shone with joy, but only one replied.

You went to leave as dawn approached, not wanting to be caught by any authorities.
The stairs were quite slippery with their blood, you would have to bring bandages to them and soon.
You gently held their hands as you said bye for now, telling them to keep the torch.

With goodbyes said and the door safely locked again you walked back home, filled with hope for
your strange new friends.

You visited them every night, just as you promised, bringing medical supplies, blankets and fruit.
They seemed to grow more human looking over time, or where you just seeing them in a kinder light?

After almost a month of this you woke up to a tragic sound.

The building had been privately bought buy a new company, you thought they wouldn't do anything
for a few months at least but oh you were so very wrong.

You rushed to the docks just in time to see the building collapse.

You swear that even now you can hear their whistling, even as the new building sits smugly on
their deathbeds.

20141129

Day 209

Your boss had weird taste in mannequins.
You'd never say it to his face but you weren't the first to notice.
Customers always complained about the lingering smell.
Nobody but you figured it out.
And by god do you regret it.

The stockroom was under the shop, one of those always-cold basements.
For the first time your boss asked you to drop some new deliveries there.
It was early morning, the shop was nowhere near opening time.
So far the only people there were you, the boss and three other co-workers.

You were given the stockroom key and told roughly where to put the boxes.
There were only seven so it would be a quick job at least.
The door was stiffer than it looked, you had to prop it open with a chair.
You found the lightswitch after fumbling about,not that it helped much.
The bulbs really needed replacing, they kept flickering.

The boxes were fairly hefty, you could only do two at a time.
Heading through the storage area you found a bunch of broken mannequins.
You didn't notice anything unusual about them at first, things break in shops.
As you went to get the other boxes you saw a flicker of movement where the
disassembled dolls lay.

You figured it was just the lights playing tricks on your eyes.
The next boxes felt a tad heavier and smelt a little off, you made a mental note
to talk to the boss about fresh supplies, just in case someone got sick or something.
The mannequins looked more spread out, must be your imagination.
You swear you felt a hand brush past your back.

Three boxes left, one huge and two medium... right, save the huge for last.
Oh shit, one of the mediums is leaking, you grabbed that first and rushed to put it
down so you could clean up the spilt... blood?
As far as you knew your shop didn't stick raw meats, only some processed but
mostly vegetables and other fresh goods.

Best not to question it, just dump the boxes and go.
The mopping took no time at all and, thank god, the other boxes weren't leaking.
They smelt worse than the others though, like a really strong stench.
You held your breath as you took the other medium box through.
On your way back out you tripped over a doll arm that you swear wasn't there before.

The last box... the big one... this wouldn't be fun.
You just about had it in a weird, splayed position but it totally blocked your view.
Not that you needed to see in front of you,you could work out your way from the side shelves.
About halfway through you heard the door close, no biggie though, you still had the keys.

Wait, was that footsteps?
Did one of your co-workers follow you in here to freak you out?
Oh god, what if your boss had found out about the leak already!
You called out their names but nobody responded.

The footsteps ran towards you and stopped about a foot from where you stood.

You lowered the box to see who it was.

The mannequin just stood there, chest heaving.
It slowly reached towards its head and peeled the plastic face off revealing pulsating meat.
You dropped the box and frantically backed up into a hard surface.
Spinning around you saw the other broken mannequins.

They'd gotten into the boxes.

They were repairing themselves.

20141128

Day 208

It wasn't raining when you went to sleep but now it was pouring.
It wasn't regular rain either, this sounded more... solid.
Like hail, perhaps?
You were too tired to get up and check either way.

So you tried to go back to sleep.
Tried being the imperative, the rain was getting louder.
As the rain softened you noticed how inconsistent the hail was.
And how wet it sounded.

Stumbling upright you open a curtain and peer out.
The ground was covered in chunks of something red...meat maybe?
You thought about going out to investigate but caught movement to your left.

Seems your neighbour had the same idea as you.
They were almost wading across the path, but it didn't look that deep.
About halfway along your view they stopped and began frantically tugging at their leg.
They were sinking quite fast.

You went to open your front door but stopped frozen as their cries became shrieks
became silence...

Everything was silent outside.

You stood by your front door heart pounding.
Waiting.

Taking a deep breath you yank your door open to see the street covered in this...stuff.
A hand is poking out from it about where your neighbour had been.
That was your destination, maybe you could help them.
Or at least recover what's left of them.

Your first step outside had your leg sinking up to knee level.
Your next put you evenly about a foot and a half down.
Moving through whatever covered the area was like being knee deep in concrete.
Each step was like lifting weights.

Eventually you reached the hand and began to pull at it.
The body lifted up easy.
You had them by the elbow when suddenly their hand grabbed your arm tightly.
Their grip was painfully tight, you heard a loud snap and your arm was in agony.

It started pulling you down.

Fatigued by the walk over and overwhelmed by the pain in your arm you let them drag you.

The last thing you see, before your head goes under, is your neighbour's smiling face
inches away from you.

20141127

Day 207

The mines had been closed since the forties.
Thatcher had driven out the jobs,  the miners said.
But we all knew different.
Not to mention Thatcher hadn't started til '79.

See, the trouble started when the miners hit some
kind of chasm.
We weren't sure just how big it was, the second
they hit it a huge section of the wall collapsed and
a thick red mist came flooding out.

The miners nearby started screaming and clutching
their throats, tearing out their eyes and tongues.

By the time paramedics got there they were either
dead or dying.
The mist was nowhere to be seen.

A grand total of four survived.
All swore they saw teeth and hands dancing around them.
It was chalked down to shock, some underground
gas leakage or something.

Didn't realise the gas would spread so fast.
One day we woke up and the whole village was flooded
with that wretched red mist.
We lost a lot of people that day.

Managed to seal off the mines with concrete at least.
Put the whole area out of work though.

We thought we were safe.
Our lost miners came home.
Our dead came home
Red mist pouring from their mouths.

They wanted to come home.
And they wanted us to go with them.

What choice did we have?

The dead always outnumber the living.

We still do.

We always will.

20141126

Day 206

Art requires sacrifice.
This has always been the case.
As long as we have made art, we have lost something to the art.
Be it time, loved ones or life.
The more you pay, the more memorable you will be.

This was true of the grand piano found at the scene of a murder.
The house was miles away from town, known as dump.
Teenagers would dare each other to stay the night, none of them ever did.
Well, except for the unlucky one found in a pool of blood.

The newspapers claimed he had been holding a sheet of music that he’d
sold his soul for, of course the police said nothing.
They said it was the greatest overture to have ever been written though
without proof, who could say for sure.

The house had called to him.
It knew him, who he was and what he wanted.
He was offered a deal.
For a price, of course.

His blood.

Foolishly he agreed and sat down to play his masterpiece, blank manuscripts sat
Waiting for him to begin and fill them with notes.
His hands flew over the keys and glided up and down scales, music flowing
through the air.

It seemed like he’d been laying for an eternity and he felt he could play forever.
Shame he made such a vague promise.
The notes began to fail him as his hands grew numb.
Looking down he saw his blood coating the old keys.
He tried to stand up but he lacked the strength.

As his vision faded he heard his masterpiece playing once more.

20141125

Day 205

She'd been missing for so long.
You almost gave up entirely but then... but then you found her.

The Police didn't believe you.
Who would though.
You can't exactly say to someone "I saw my little sister floating about 8 feet in the air."
Even if it was true.

She looked so angry.
You thought dead people were supposed to be at peace but lo and behold she was
clutching her severed legs with a glare so fierce you can still see it when you close
your eyes.

She was wearing the same clothes she'd worn the day she went missing.
The Police refused to believe you so you went to dig up the area instead.

She'd moved since you last saw her.
She was on the ground now.
Still floating, still holding her legs and still so angry.

She dropped her legs and faded to a faint outline.
This must be where she is.
As you approached her legs they too vanished.

You began to dig.
By dawn you were elbow deep in a hole.
You hadn't stopped all night, you had to find her.

And you did.
Well, you found her legs, torn and partially decayed but they were definitely hers.

You wept with joy, finally you had closure, you knew she wasn't coming back.
Months of tension drained from your weary shoulders.

Then the legs began to move.
They stood and walked.
Shocked and hoping this was a dream you followed.

Her legs lead you towards the main road and stopped.
You stood beside them but they began to kick you.
You heard a loud snap and dimly realised they'd broken your shin.

You fell down into the road, vision blurred with pain and tears.
The legs stood by the road again.
You tried to crawl to the other side of the road but they were there again,
jumping on your arms and kicking you back into the road.

You never saw the lorry coming.

The reports said you were writhing and screaming.
As if you were being attacked.
By an unseen force.

20141124

Day 204

You found the cup lying in a tide pool.
It looked so old, it had clearly been lying there for some time.
Barnacles had grown inside and around it.
The handle seemed to resemble some kind of sea-creature.

Maybe it was new and this was all design?
Either way you grabbed a bowl and put the cup inside, figuring
you could use it for your fish tank at least.

And so you did.
Your fish seemed to love it and circled it endlessly.
Over the next few days, however, you noticed your fish change.
Its scales becoming dull and tooth-like in shape, its eyes becoming
darker and darker and wider til they were practically on either side
of its small head.

The vet you took it to said it was the next stage in this fishes' life span
and that you should probably get a bigger tank.
This seemed to placate the sudden changes your small pet was experiencing.
At least until the barnacles on the cup began to spread.

It took you too long to notice
Your poor fish was encrusted with the small organisms, it couldn't move.
It just lay there, mouth opening and closing helplessly.
You put it out of its misery and disposed of its small body in the bin.

The tank is still full of water, it only contains the cup and barnacles now.
Well it did until last week.
The cup just vanished and you haven't been able to find it since.
You haven't been able to rid yourself of the smell of seaweed either.

It seems everything you drink tastes like seawater.
As you look down you see that you are holding the barnacle-encrusted cup.
You have been drinking from it.
The small sea-creatures have coated the lower half of your face.

You can feel them opening and closing against your flesh.

How could you have not noticed?
You find it too hard to breathe where you are, your room too dry.
You have to head down to the sea again.
You need to.

20141123

Day 203

It shouldn't end this way, not like this.
You only came here to put some flowers on your uncle's grave.
How could you have known?

You couldn't.

To go back, it began when you walked into the graveyard.
It was one of those small ones, hidden away in a tiny village.
Your uncle loved history so it was only fitting that he be buried among it.

It was the kind of place you'd expect to see in a Dickens book.
All picturesque and slightly off-putting for some unnamed reason.
Finding your uncle's grave took you longer than you expected, it was tucked
away at the furthest end of the graveyard right down the bottom of the hill.

It was a steep trip down and you slipped several times on the worn, mossy steps.
His grave stood out among the others as some careless relative had used one of
those cookie-cutter white stone slabs that never seemed to fit in with dead places.

You knew it wasn't what he would have wanted but nevertheless you put the flowers
down and settled down on the damp grass to talk to him.
It was late afternoon by the time you felt done, having arrived just before eleven.

You decided to really look at the place on your way out, now that you knew where
your uncle was resting.
The other stones were that mossy, worn, plant covered kind of affair that everyone
associates with graveyards and classic movies.

Huh, it seemed like angel statues were popular among the locals, there was a cluster
of them further up the hill.
Thinking that maybe they were a family tradition, you went over to look.

There were six in total, each with a different appearance yet somehow all connected.
Their eyes were so realistic, you figured they were glass.
That was, until one of them blinked.

Startled you stumbled back, slipping over on the damp mossy floor.
Looking up at the, now towering, statues you see only five.
They are staring down at you and smiling.

Their smiles are not kind.

You rush as quickly as you can back to your car and in your haste you neglect to
notice that the boot of your car has been ripped off and the rear seats are also gone.
The car judders to life and as you look back up you see the five statues surrounding you.

To end with the present.
You glance in your rear-view mirror.

A grey face with bright eyes fills the view.

It shouldn't end like this.

20141122

Day 202

Here's a game.
Lock all of your windows.
Stand alone in a hallway at 1AM and say aloud three times:
Hello. We are old friends, you and I.
Then turn off the lights and close your eyes.
Wait until you no longer feel safe.
Then open your eyes.

You've invited them in.

Now you can't leave until your new guests are seated.
To do this you must hunt them down.
There will be four.

They will be found trying to open your windows.
You must stop then by any means necessary.
If they get out the game is over and you will die.

If you manage to stop or delay them until 4AM you win.

Then the game is over.

For that night.

They will come the next night and the next night for one week.

And your reward for stopping them at last?

You may kill four people with no consequences.

20141121

Day 201

I used to pull apart my dolls for fun when I was a kid.
Used scissors on them too.
Those were back the 80's.
At the time there was a string of gruesome murders.
No fingerprints, no trail, no nothing.
They were just torn apart and left in back alleys.

I used to mimic the crime scenes - I was a weird kid.
Sometimes though... sometimes my dolls would match the deaths
before I'd even read about them.
Like this one time I pulled her arms off, cut the hands off and stuffed
them into the torso.
Read about that one the next day.

I stopped playing with dolls after that, never even picked one up again.

You know, I hadn't thought about this for years.
Not until I cut up a doll for an art project.
I created this scene of a dining room with doll parts on plates.
That night a similar scene was all over the news.
A woman was found cut up and left on her kitchen table.
Same as the others, no prints, no witnesses and no leads.

It can't have been me though.
Nobody had even seen my work, it can't just be coincidence.

I decided to prove to myself once and for all that it wasn't me.
This time I made the doll look like my mother, used fabric from her old
clothes, mimicked her haircut, her wrinkles - everything.
I didn't tell anyone about it, had the doll delivered to my workplace.
It was untraceable to me,or so I thought.

I set fire to the doll's head and painted my initials onto the back.
The plan was supposed to work.
I was supposed to be able to phone her.
She was supposed to be fine.

They found her exactly like the doll which became evidence against me.
It didn't explain the note they found with her that had no fingerprints on it
but was somehow dated back to the 80's.

It had two words on it, just two.


PLAY NICE.

20141120

Day 200

They bought it from a festival.
One of those annual ones that drew the occult lovers out of their holes.
That's where the got the necklace.
It a deer's jawbone on chain, "organically sourced" apparently.

Shortly after, it all began.
Started with dead animals being left at their front door.
Little ones, like mice and small birds.
Every one was missing their lower jaw.

They began to worry, was this a sick joke?
Should they tell the police?
Would they even be taken seriously?
They decided to leave the necklace in a drawer and hope for the best.

It got worse, as these things do.
Last month it was a jawless cat.
3 weeks ago it was a jawless dog.
Last week... oh, last week was by far the worst.

They'd gotten accustomed to checking the front door for... presents now.
This time it wasn't an animal.
It was a child.
His jaw had been removed, same as all the others.

They went into police protection, someone or something was sending them a message.
For a while after, everything was okay.
No corpses, no bloody messages, just normality.
They decided to get rid of the necklace altogether, no longer clinging to it for protection.

They made the mistake of heading back to the field where the festival was.
The morning seemed safest, early enough that everyone was asleep, but not too dark.
That morning was thick with mist, at least no-one would see them.

And they weren't seen, not until later afternoon when the mist had cleared.

Their body was found near a small hole under a large oak tree.

Their lower jaw had been torn off and replaced.

Forensics showed it to be a deer's.

It is said that they still wander that field, trying to find their jaw.
Corpses are still found there sometimes - all jawless.
The police are calling it copycat murders.

The locals know better.

They've seen that shambling ghoul.

20141119

Day 199

My little girl came to visit me today.

Its been so long since I last saw her.

I barely recognised her without her skin.

She's all bones now but I still know it's her.

She's holding the flowers I put down on Sunday.

Her tiny hand reaches out to me.

I feel she is smiling.

20141118

Day 198

The carriage was all but empty.
The only people inside were you and an older woman.
You weren't surprised at how empty it was, this was the last train of the night.

It was still a fair way to your station... yet the train was slowing down.
Peering into the dark you began to make out the orange lights of a platform.
Assuming it to be your stop you gathered your things and stood by the door.

As the train pulled in you noticed how decrepit and outdated the station looked.
The roof had holes in several places and the iron beams holding it in place were
dark orange with rust.
Before you could push the door's button the older woman yanked your arm away.

Frantically pointing outside you gradually saw figures just appearing out of the air.
They looked like they had once been human... maybe... a long time ago.
Now they were skin and bones, clothes worn to muted greys barely hanging on their
withered frames as they slowly walked towards the stationary vehicle.

The woman pulled you to crouch underneath the chairs.
You faintly heard the beings shuffle closer and held your breath.

They opened the door.
You could see a pair of decaying feet step inside.
A voice like sandpaper whispered nooot my riiiiiidee and the feet left.
The door closed and you could finally breathe again.

If this wasn't their "ride", surely it was safe enough to get up again?
You decided to risk it.

They were just standing there.
Staring.
Waiting.

The train wasn't pulling away.
It had been ten minutes and the train showed no signs of moving.
The woman and you agreed to head to the driver's cabin, maybe they had fallen asleep?

You both took each carriage slowly, peering carefully through each door and keeping
as low as possible.
There were a few close calls, the being were still wandering in and out of some carriages
apparently looking for their "ride".

It seemed to take forever to get to the front and the door was locked anyway.
You both sank down.
What else could you do?
Those things were still outside.

Maybe there was another train coming.
Maybe this one wasn't going to go anywhere.

What harm could it do to wait?

20141117

Day 197

The lampost flickered twice as she stared at it determinedly.
There wasn't much else for her to do as she waited for her bus.
She kept seeing pale flickers up and down the pole.
Her bus wasn't due for another five or so minutes so she crossed the road
to get a closer look.

She reckoned it was a mouse or something.
As she began crossing the road a hand appeared from behind the light, grasping
the pole so tight the knuckles turned white.
Standing still she leant left and right, trying to see the person behind.
It must be some kind of practical joke.

Her voice echoed harshly as she called out to the prankster.
There was no reply but another hand joined the first.
This new hand was right at the top of the pole, just below the light.
Far too high to be connected to the same unseen person as the first hand yet
they something about them seemed to belong to one being.

The bus stop looked far more inviting now and she began to back away slowly.
With every step she took another hand appeared.
By the time she reached the bus shelter there were eight or so clenching and
unclenching around the streetlight rhythmically.
More appeared with every blink of her unbelieving eyes.

Her attention was distracted momentarily as her bus finally pulled up.
Quickly flashing her bus pass she grabbed the only available seat at the back by the window.

As the bus pulled away she looked towards the streetlight.
From the rear window she could clearly see the rest of the being.
All of the hands were theirs, attached with impossibly thin arms that had far too many joints
and were all the same sickly shade.

It was looking at her.
Its bulbous uncannily familiar head tilted at an unnatural angle as it grinned with a mouth
too full of teeth to close.
It had no body.

Frightened she turned her attention to the front of the bus, determined not to panic.
However the whole way home,out of the corner of her eye she could see it.
Clasping every lamppost they drove past with those stick thin hands.

She wondered how long it would follow her for.

As her bus pulled up to her well lit street, she had no other choice but to find out.

20141116

Day 196


So we started driving at about 5pm.
It was business as usual, fairly busy for the area but not overly so then BAM, a bright light hit us and suddenly its night?
There's no other cars around either but we're still on the road.
Neither of us are hurt so we figure we'll keep going.


Okay all the lights are off.
Normally there'd be streetlights about now but everything's dark and I can't see the town.
This is starting to get worrying.


Managed to snap this picture, we thought it was a car but as it got closer we saw it was on fire.
Not like actual fire, all red with black smoke, this was white fire.
There might have been people inside, we couldn't see properly.


We see a lorry coming up, going to try to get the driver's attention.
They might know where we are?


Oh my god!
There was a dead guy at the wheel!
His head was missing and he was driving!
HE WAVED AT US!
What the hell is going on?


Oh thank god, we're getting closer to home.
We're just coming up to the main road and we can see lights.
Whatever the hell happened back there, it has to be over.

We drove past home.
I can't quite place it but going there feels... wrong.
Like we're done there, like there's no reason for us to go back.

Funny how it seems like we've been driving for years.
We only set out last week, no this morning.
No, last week.
We never left the car, we never went home.
We crashed.
We crashed.

20141115

Day 195

The boats swayed in the calm harbour.
There was no breeze, no harsh tide, no reason why they should be swaying so violently.
At least, none I could see from my window.

I had to find out what was going on.
The docks were a five minute walk from my house so I didn't feel afraid.
I should have been afraid.

They only rocked at night, as soon as the sun had set they began .
It was near 10pm when I arrived and the rocking was well underway.
The streetlights along the walkway so I could barely make out the cause.

I made the mistake of using my phone light.
There were thin watery hands pushing against the sides, trying to over-turn the vessels.
They whispered  among themselves, hoping a human was onboard.

The boats are rocking faster now.

I can hear their masts clacking together.

Wait, they've stopped.
The boats are still.
I'm going to take a look.



Thryv left the wavyr 

20141114

Day 194

Mam says our street used to be a graveyard.
She says they got rid the old church cause nobody went there anymore.
We live in one of those houses.
Mam says it helps us be closer to the Lord cause its almost exactly where
the old church stood.

I'd rather we lived somewhere else.
There are small graves behind a bush at the end of our garden, I don't think
mam knows about them and I don't want to tell her.
I'm surprised she hasn't heard them, they cry out almost every night.
They want their mothers.

I tried to help them once but they don't have names, said they died so young
that they never got given any.
How are you supposed to help someone with no name?
They gave me a year though, 1654.
I told them I'd try to help, I promised to.

That's when they came out.
Wanted to make sure I'd remember my promise.
Their hands were so tiny.
They all grabbed my arm, their hands burnt my skin.
I ran inside crying but mam says there's nothing on my arm.

How can she not see their little handprints?
They burnt so deep.
That's not even the worst of it.
I told them last night I couldn't find anything, I couldn't help them.
They haven't stopped screaming since.

I can't go outside now.
They're waiting at the doors for me.
I can hear them knocking right now.
Mam's keeps telling me to answer the door.
Sooner or later someone will.

20141113

Day 193

The old zoo was only a few miles out of town.
It was supposed to be abandoned.
They'd closed it down in '24.

You went in out of curiosity, that and they left
the old place open to the public as a museum.

It was pretty crappy as museums went, seeing
as it was just rusted cages, cracked glass tanks
and fairly small concrete enclosures.

No wonder it was shut, the place was tiny and
so out of the way hardly anyone ever came.

The day you went you only saw one other car
parked in the designated area.

It was eerily quiet as you walked up the steep
steps - the old zoo was at the top of a large hill.
They were cracked in some places, falling
apart in others but it had been over 60 years
since any proper maintenance had been done.

There used to be a gate at the top with a big sign
on it but that had been stolen years ago, now all
that was left was two long rusted poles.

As you headed past the old ticket booths you saw
the first big enclosure, now a concrete pit full of
weeds.

The next few enclosures were all in small buildings
and consisted mainly of rusty metal cages.

You'd never been sure of what they used to contain,
there was nothing online to say what they were or
where the animals went after the place shut down.

So far nothing overly interesting, nothing new at least.

As you drew closer to the peak of the zoo (which was
an old falconry with a great view of the area, right at
the top of the hill) things began to seem... off...

You couldn't put your finger on it til your text alert
went off.

You realised just how quiet the place had gotten.

All the birds and insects had silenced themselves.

It was getting creepier the longer you stayed so
you did the smart thing and turned around to go.

That was when you heard the sound of sticks
snapping behind you and something wet dripping
onto the concrete floor.

You ran away as fast as you could as something
large bounded after you.
Making sure to twist and turn, head through buildings,
anything to throw off your pursuer, you finally reached
your car.

You threw yourself inside and locked all the doors.
As you caught your breath you looked out of the
windows and sw something you'd missed on the
way in.

The other car wasn't empty.
In fact, the driver and passengers never left.
You could see a tiny arm sticking out just behind the
front wheel.

The arm withdrew sharply and the shadows beneath the
vehicle began to writhe and pulse forward.

Your attention was quickly brought back to your own
situation as your car lurched up, like something underneath
it was trying to stand.

And maybe it was.

You didn't stick around long enough to find out, hell you didn't
even look back.

The news never covered the zoo.
You never knew who was killed there or how many more have
been since, you know people still go there.

Something inside you is telling you to go back.

You need to go back.

20141112

Day 192

Our bones break fairly easily you know.
It only takes 25 pounds of pressure to fracture one.
They tore through humans like wet tissue-paper.
We still don't know what they are.

They were seen crawling out of a stagnant lake
near the border.
We thought they were harmless reptile type creatures,
something long forgotten by time left to re-emerge now.

We were so very wrong.
People thought they were cute, kept them as pets.
They became an intrinsic part of our society, more
popular than dogs or rabbits.

That was before the change.

It started with a few reports, some of the creatures
had spun themselves into cocoons with no warning.
As the reports came flooding in we all eagerly held our
breath to see what the cute little reptiles would emerge as.

How could we have known?

I first saw it on the news, the cocoon was torn apart and
the owner was found mauled a mile away.
It was put down to a theft gone wrong.
Nobody connected the dots until it happened again... and again.

We didn't even know what to look for until a cocoon hatched
on camera - who knew they were such monstrosities?

They looked somewhat human.
They had human shaped heads devoid of any facial features
and torsos that tapered off into nothing.
The worst part of them was their hands/paws whatever you
want to call them.

They were twice the size of the creatures' torsos and ended
in razor sharp talons almost twelve inches long.
And they were almost always stained or dripping red.
It was always fresh.

20141111

Day 191

The Freeze has spread.

We focus today on a small estate near a city, somewhere.
As you walk down the street towards there you notice the
signs of this strange occurrence.

Thing just seemed slower the closer you got to the centre.
It seemed empty til you got to the courtyard.
That's when you saw them, or what was left of them.

The nearest to you had been drinking when the Freeze set in.
The mug was probably fused to their face by now and the
liquid inside had become a thick mould that was gradually
covering their entire face.
Eventually it would cover their body whole, but thanks to the
Freeze they would remain alive.

Nobody's sure if the Frozen remain conscious.

As you walked towards the stairs you saw a young child seemingly
asleep.
They would look almost peaceful were it not for the sapling sprouting
through their torso, the trunk stained crimson.
Even from your distance you could see them breathing, the sapling's
leaves moving in the gradual breeze.

You weren't here for them.
You were there for one person.
Your younger sister.

Her flat was only one flight up and you still had the keys but worry
made you slow and dread made you sweat.
It clung to you like a second skin, you were barely aware of it, more
focused on finding her, hopefully alive and well.

The stairs were difficult to navigate as two women were Frozen mid
conversation, their mouths dried and tongues shrivelled to tiny worms.
Their breath rattled, you could almost make out their faint words.

Squeezing past them you made it to your destination.
Her door was open, have other people been here?
Surely the news reports would have frightened them off.

Her flat smelt like plants.
She was always fond of them and in the Freeze they had nearly turned
her small abode into a flat out jungle.

You found her sitting in the kitchen.
What was left of her at least.
A plate of watercress salad was in front of her, fork halfway to her mouth
and, to your despair, watercress practically pouring out of her open
mouth, eyes and ears.

It almost looked like the small leaves were tears.
You supposed they could be.

Maybe you should rest a while, you've had such a day.
Surely five minutes won't hurt?
You can pay your respects to her and then leave.

Dimly you noticed the sweat on your skin hadn't moved.
The nearby plants seemed to be crawling towards you.

Ah well, if you can't save them - join them.

20141110

Day 190

You wake up in a room with two doors.
The one beside you opens to a spiral staircase that seems to never end.
The one before you leads to a balcony.

As you sit contemplating your environment you hear heavy panting rushing
towards you from above the balcony.
You close and lock the door as large sounding fists pound at the flimsy frame.
Terrified you begin to run down the stairs, skipping steps as you go.
When you reach, maybe two flights down you hear the balcony door burst open
and heavy footsteps thunder behind you.

You rush down flight after flight, constantly aware of the footsteps following you
relentlessly as you finally, dear god, finally reach the ground floor.
There is no outside, only a concrete platform and as you peer over the edge
you can just about make out a ledge underneath.
Wasting no time you begin to clamber carefully down.

As your feet touch the floor beneath you find yourself on another balcony.

The door before you is locked, hoping someone is inside you pound and hammer
on the door as the steps above you draw closer.

The door finally gives way as the steps behind you close in.

You run for the door beside you and it opens to a spiral staircase.

A very familiar staircase.

The steps behind you stop.

20141109

Day 189

Your friend said to meet you at the old warehouses by the docks.
Said he had something important to show you.
Apparently it was life-changing.

When I got there, he wasn't anywhere to be found.
Gave him a call and faintly heard his phone ringing from inside the warehouse.
The fence was wide open so I assumed the public was allowed in.

Seems the old warehouse still had electricity going into it, the lights were on.
There was some truly surreal graffiti along every inch of the walls.
Your friend's ringtone was coming from an office at the far end of the building.

The stairs leading up to it seemed stable enough from this distance.

As you walked along you examined at the disused equipment that might have
once been for clothing of some kind (you vaguely remember reading something on it).
There were flickers of movement in the corners of your eyes.

Upon reaching the stairs to the office you look around the warehouse floor again.
There - you spot something running along the walls!
It moved too fast for you to clearly see it, maybe it was just a rat.

The office door was wide open and your friend's phone lay on the floor ringing.
Where could your friend be?
As you turn to head back out you spot a sheet of paper stuck to the inside of the door.

Closing the door you see it is covered in paper.
Scrawled onto the mass of sheets is the lifesize image of a human, huddled and crouched.
It looks so lifelike, like it could just breathe.

It is breathing.

You can faintly hear it and faintly see its sides moving steadily.
You stumble back, unsure of what you are seeing, is this what your friend wanted you to see?
Its head turns to look at you, expression baleful and pleading.

It has your friend's face.

You yank the door open and run down the stairs.
As you reach the bottom they collapse altogether, sending clouds of dust into the air.
The noise is deafening, you feel dizzy and disoriented.

The walls are writhing with activity now.
Cows on human legs peer curiously at you, tiny arms crawl up and down pipes, rows and
rows of teeth call out for your attention hey look over here hey what are we hey please.

Tripping and colliding against abandoned machines you barely reach the open doors.
You pause just outside, catching your breath as a reedy voice calls out to you.
You turn.

You see the pipes along the outside of the building bulge as unseen things move inside them,
you see blood ooze out of the cracks in the walls.
You look up and see a wide mouth grinning.

It is your mouth.

You never left the office.

20141108

Day 188

When constructing a poppit (classically known as a "voodoo doll") remember this:
WEAR GLOVES

I cannot stress this enough.

You see contrary to popular media portrayals, they work with whatever DNA
is left on them, no matter who the "target" is.

So yes, the hair you use will work... but so will your fingerprints, your falling skin,
the microbacteria crawling over every inch of your flesh and onto the poppit.

When implementing your execution, try giving your poppit to as many people as
possible - in fact, make a game of it.

It is, after all, an untraceable crime.

Who'd think to look for a straw doll?

20141107

Day 187

You wake up to the sound of your doorbell ringing as your front door slams closed.
It could be your roommate, you can hear them watching TV in the living room.
There's no harm in checking, right?

You open your bedroom door to find a long, dark hallway stretching out before you.
Your roommate is already walking towards the other end and won't respond to your calls.
As you run to catch up to them your bedroom door slams shut.

It doesn't matter, the hallway is growing darker the closer you get to your friend.
By the time you reach them it is almost pitch black.

They won't stop walking and won't respond to your words.
You can barely hear them muttering something under their breath but the words are impossible
to make out.

You are both approaching a well lit part of the hallway, allowing you to clearly see the gaping
chasm in the floor, seemingly without an end.
There is a ledge to one side which your friend immediately sprints towards.
They scrabble at the wall as they try to get across as quickly as possible and they almost make it.

Almost.

They let out a blood curdling screech as they fall out of sight.

You never hear them hit the bottom.

Deciding to not risk the ledge you begin to head back, maybe this is just a dream?
The walk back seems shorter than you remember, maybe its the darkness?

When you reach your door you find it locked.
You push and push and pound the wooden frame but it refuses to move.
Giving up, you lean back on the handle and it swings open to reveal... a concrete wall.
The same walls that surround you.

You have no way back, the other side of the hole is your only chance.

You sprint for it, desperate to get home somehow.

The ledge is smaller, or is the hole wider?
Either way you begin to cross on tiptoes, hands running along the cold concrete wall.

You don't know how long you've been moving along now but you can finally see the other side.
As you start to near it you hear your roommate's voice from the hole.
They are calling to you.
Begging you to come down, they say they've found the way out!

You ask them to prove who they are, say what you both ate last week.
They don't answer, they just keep begging you to come down quickly.
They say there's a great danger on the other side.
'If the other side is so bad then why were you running to get to it?' you half ask, half yell.

They grow silent.
They stop responding.

You are left with two options, join them in the hole, despite not knowing how deep it is or
if the voice is even your roommate, or continue and face the alleged danger.


You choose the hole.

As you brace yourself to jump you hear a voice from the end of the ledge.
It is light enough that you can see the voice has no body, it sounds like its moving closer
to you.

It keeps saying your name, in the voices of everyone you have ever known, your parents,
your old English teacher, your roommate.

You lean over the ledge and fall as the voice above you laughs your laugh.

The fall isn't nearly as deep as you thought.
You land on something warm and wet.
Your "roommate" grabs your arm, praising your decision and drags you towards a hole in
the wall.
The hole is surrounded by what looks to be meat and huge bones of some sort.

You turn to face your roommate only to find half of their face is missing.
They beg to you go through the hole, to tell their family they love them.

The meat begins to move and you are given no choice but to crawl through, elbow deep in gore.

Again, you hear your friend's screams, only this time they are cut off by a sharp crunch.
They end with wet coughing.

You crawl as fast as you can, eager to avoid meeting the same end.

At last you see a light in front of you and you crawl faster and faster and faster as the sound of
jaws snapping grows louder behind you and you emerge.

And you are in your living room, covered in blood and exhausted.

You collapse and catch your breath as you go to open your bedroom door.

The hallway greets you.

You hear our own laughter running towards you.

Did you think you could escape so easily?

20141106

Day 186

The caravan was supposed to be empty.
Seems the old owner hadn't left after all.
His corpse was still at the table, holding a mug of something
that had long since dried up.

His arm stiffly raised the mug to his shrivelled face and he
drew in a deep breath.

Old habits just don't die.

His sunken eyes drift out of the window and he gazes listlessly
at the others wandering about.
Like him, they were trapped in their habits.

They walked their dogs, well they pulled empty leashes along.
They took their children to school, though nobody had taught
there for almost fifty years.

The whole area was frozen like this.
None of them could rest.
They couldn't die.

Nobody left the area, they had no reason to.
Sometimes new people came, towing cameras and microphones.
They always stayed.
What reason did they have to go?

After all, habits are so easy to get into.

They drink in the pub that hasn't served anything for years.
They walk along the beach, among the remains of old fishing boats.
They film with equipment that has long since expired, just as they have.

The old man turns to face the living ones who are forming their habits.
He can't answer their questions.

He doesn't know why the area was declared unstable.
Everything was stable, everything was as it has always been
How it always will be.

20141105

Day 185

I inherited a storage room.
Couldn't wait to see what was in it, I hoped it was money.
It was from my cousin, we fell out of touch years ago.
Shame he died so suddenly.

I went to the storage room last week.
It was mostly full of books about the occult, you know,
the ones with pentagrams and demons on the front.
But right at the back, there was... something else.

The note attached to the top said it was a kind of zombie,
apparently my cousin had made it himself which was both
impressive and disgusting.

It was a head.
It was in a jar.
It was alive and... in a jar.

The head looked to be a child's, it was so small and so
distorted, there was no way it could be anything but a
Frankenstein-like creation.

It had ears.
Little ears all over its small face.
It flinched when I tapped on the glass, how is it alive?

According to the note my cousin left, this strange little
being was unfinished.
And he needed me to complete his work.

And I did.

I followed his note to the last letter.
Pulling the head out of the jar I cut out its tongue and
sewed its mouth shut.
I bathed it in my own blood, as much as I could safely
draw and then...

Then it was done.

It sits in the jar again.
I kept it hidden, nobody can know about this.

My cousin's research told me that for every life I took,
I would gain their remaining years.

I plan on living a long time with my new creation.

A very long time.

20141104

Day 184

The last thing she remembered was the bus.

She dreamt of a high view.
She dreamt of seeing mountains.
She dreamt of a river falling towards her,
or was she falling towards it?

Her eyes opened at last.
She wasn't on the bus.

She was somewhere tall and concrete with
empty eye-socket shells where windows
had once been.

Gingerly she stood up and began to walk
forward, trying to see where she was.
The whole structure tilted as she moved
and she scrambled back to her waking spot.

The swaying began to lessen as she sat there
gasping for air, panicked and alone.

She slapped her face, surely this is just a dream?

It wasn't.
No matter how hard she hit herself her surroundings
remained the same - bleak, bare and unstable.

She could just about make out the skyline through
the nearest window, she was maybe three floors up.
Too high to jump out, especially with a building
this decrepit.

Maybe... maybe she could run for the stairs?
All buildings had stairs right?
If she was fast enough she had a decent chance right?

Taking several deep breaths she prepared herself.

Staying wasn't an option, how long could she wait
before the damned building just collapsed altogether?

She slowly stood up.
The building remained still.
Tiptoeing forward she peered into the corridor outside
of the room she was in.
Just as bare as the room.

There was a door on one end of the hallway, it was
her best shot at getting out of there.

She moved as fast as she could.
The building moved with her.

She reached the door as the building began to tip forward.

It was locked.

If a building falls down and no-one can hear it, dies it make a sound?
If a woman vanishes and her body is never found, did she ever exist?
If she disappears away from any sign of life, can you prove she is dead?

20141103

Day 183

My grandfather used to say blood is like a book, it holds on tight.
I thought he was being poetic.
He wasn't.

He was warning us.

A few weeks ago the first deaths came.
A young man found in his home, strangled to death and covered in blood.
The blood was his own, no prints were found nor anyone convicted.

Two days later, an elderly woman was found.
Same cause, same position.

I knew blood could hold fingerprints as well as ink but somehow it
is manifesting in a form solid enough to kill.

From my research it takes roughly 11 pounds of continuous force for
4-5 minutes to successfully strangle someone to death.
This pressure would render them unconscious in as little as 10 seconds.

How can you fight your own life force?

20141102

Day 182

Some truths are less valued than others.
Some truths are viewed as bad as lies.
These are the most important truths.
The ones we don't talk about.
The ones we lock away and drink to forget.

How can we forget them?
They stare us in the face every day.
We may only see them from the corners of our eyes
but they are always there.
They smile so lovingly as they wait for our lives
to end so they may step into view.

There are so few reports of them.
So few survive.
The best way for the living to witness these beings
is to stare at a bright light for one minute.
Switch it off and focus on the edges of your vision.
They will be there.
Smiling so lovingly.
They've waited so long.
Too long.

20141101

Day 181

I did it.
I helped them.
I saved them.

The book told me how to.
It had all of their names, addresses, times when they'd be most vulnerable...
All I had to do was follow the instructions.

Good thing there were so few of them, there was no time!

The first I saved when he was sleeping.

Took him all the way to the warehouse, half sunk in the water.
He is safe there.

The second I saved while she was in mourning.
The church crypt had only one entrance and I kept the key.
She is safe there.

The third I saved as they gave a speech.
The town was close to an old mine with tunnels leading into forever.
They will be safe there.

The last name in the book is my own.
I will stay in the moors, by a lake the colour of night, filled with the unsaved ones.
The book will be left in an abandoned house.

There are so many to save.