Flash Stories & Poetry Day 28: Horror Legend "The Journal"

 

Hey, everyone.

So, I'm not sure how in the world I'm going to write a short story about writing for a third time. I might say screw it and just write a regular short story. Writing about writing is only really fun with poetry and non-fiction. It's sort of difficult with fiction. So, let's see then.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!






Today's topic is... well, to be honest, I spun it multiple times because I wasn't satisfied with what I got. First I got legend, then horror, then mystery, and finally fairy tale. I do have a story idea that is about writing for horror/mystery, but it's more of a novel idea and I don't want to give it away here. Or, maybe what I could do is write a horror-mystery-legend and make it the prequel for my novel. That would be fun. Let's do it.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

A long time ago, there once was a man. He lived in a mansion on top of a hill. Those who saw him thought he was a most peculiar man. Whenever they saw him, he would be bent over, muttering curses under his breath. He always eyed everyone in the world with an eye of suspicion and hate. No one knew why, but he loathed the world and everything in it.

But the most peculiar thing about this man was that he always carried with him a leather bound journal. As he walked the world, he would be bent over his journal and constantly scribbling in it. Every day he filled those pages with his demented, wrathful thoughts. They seemed to fill the journal from cover to cover. But what was most alarming was that every day he filled the journal from cover to cover. Monday, cover to cover; Tuesday, cover to cover; Wednesday, cover to cover; the whole week, month, year long.

Some thought that perhaps he had more than one, but where he got them from no one knew; no one ever saw him buy anything. And yet, every day he had a journal filled with curses and malcontent thoughts. Some thought it was the same journal every day, but how could that have been possible?

Those who claimed it was the same journal said the journal was bewitched and that every day, the writing would be erased and the man would be forced to fill it again. But, there was another phenomenon that came to pass as the man continued to write. Every day he became a little bit meaner and a little bit older. Things that he didn't use to hate so much, he now abhorred, and though only a year had passed, he looked as if he had aged ten.

This led some people to believe that as he pored over the journal, he actually poured himself into it--his very life's essence was transported from his pen to the page and it became a part of the journal. For what point or purpose, no one knew, but they could see that the longer he wrote in the journal, the more embittered and older he became.

Then, one day, he no longer came around. For several days, no one said anything for they hadn't noticed his sentimental poison permeating the air. When someone did ask, no one answered. It took several more times and several more times after that for the question to be asked before someone finally gave the answer, "I don't know."

They went to his house on the hill and broke in. It was a cavernous, Gothic mansion, as bleak and as dark as him. They searched the whole house but found so sign of him. What they did find though sent shivers down their spine. While looking in his bed chambers, they found a skeleton, sitting at a desk, and beneath its hand was the leather bound journal--its pages were completely blank.

Haunted by the thought of what this could mean, they hastily dropped the skeleton into a trunk and moved it into the cellar. One paranoid fellow put a padlock on it for fear something might escape. As for the journal, it was lost in the shuffle, but some say it's still up there, hiding in the mansion somewhere.

***

 

Stop the clock! Okay, that's almost eleven minutes left. I know, I still have plenty of time, but I don't know how to make this longer and I'm getting sleepy. Which isn't good because I have Christmas cookies to bake. So, I was sort of rushing the story. Not everything is written as well in this piece as I would like it. For this week, I don't think I'm going to do a theme, but with Christmas coming, you can expect a lot of Christmas related posts. Maybe I'll write my own carol.

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Tales of Horror Excerpt: RE: Encounter

Hey, everyone.

So, because I'm not as brilliant as I pretend to be, I totally forgot to post an excerpt from Tales of Horror: Macabre Monsters of Michigan to bait people into reading it. This would have been a great idea for the first day I offered the book for free rather than the last. Yes, that's right. Today is the last day you can download Tales of Horror for free. So, get it today (8/22/17): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07435BPQR.

After today, I won't be able to make it free again for at least 90 days. So, hopefully the following is enough to whet your appetite.

And if you want to make sure you don't miss another offer like this, subscribe to my Books and Other Writings mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c0sMdb. And if you're into cryptozoology and the paranormal, why not subscribe to my mailing list so I can keep you apprised of the world of weird: http://eepurl.com/c0sNW5.

Alright, here's the excerpt. It's from the short story RE: Encounter. It tells the tale of a man in self-imposed exile and his battle with a terrifying beast that defies explanation.

To: SuperCuteTXNGirl75

From: RichMICHFarmer73

Subject: RE: RE: Stuff

Date: 10 May 2000

Dear Kelly,

It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry about my parents. I made peace with the whole thing years ago. To be honest, I was never very close with them. I was actually closer to my driver—yeah, we were so well off I had a driver. Y’know, mumsy and dadsy couldn’t spare time to take their little boy to school, esp. when I had to go to school outside of Detroit—I’m sure you know why. But my mother didn’t do much besides read and take care of the little yappy dog that I begged them for. Well, I didn’t ask for Itsy-Bitsy—that bitch. My mother was the one that chose it. Anyway…

My driver, James, was a cool guy. He had originally been a butler in New England for a few decades. A real gentleman, but he would spend his vacations hunting and fishing. He would often tell me how depressed he was to be in the city and how marvelous the great outdoors were. He told me all of his hunting and fishing stories, at least three times each. It didn’t matter to me that I’d heard them before. I loved them all and he was a great storyteller. James and the zoo are what made me really passionate about animals and the outdoors and part of the reason why I don’t like the city. (The city’s already dirty and dangerous by itself.) But after my parents died, I decided that I didn’t require him anymore. I knew how to drive, but I wasn’t allowed to since that was “the help’s job.” When I let James go, I gave him a nice cushy severance pay and I still call him occasionally.

Good to hear you have so much experience with firearms and bows. Now I won’t have to teach you as much when we go hunting. And of course we can go fishing in the Great Lakes. We can do some bowfishing and later some skinny dipping, ha ha ha.

Sincerely,

Rawlin

P.S. Yes, the reason why I write these emails so formally is because of my upbringing.

P.P.S. Uh, you asked about the calf. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it. But, the circumstances concerning his death are a little weird. I’m not sure if you want to hear about it.

To: SuperCuteTXNGirl75

From: RichMICHFarmer73

Subject: Weird Creature

Date: 15 May 2000

Dear Kelly,

Well, if you’d really like to know… A couple of days before I wrote you back last time, something strange happened around here late one evening. I was in the house, reclining after the day’s work. I was sitting at my computer about to write back when I heard a commotion from outside. It was faint but I was able to recognize it as coming from my herd. Believe it or not, cattle make more noises than just “moo.” If they feel threatened, they’ll warn others by snorting and stamping the ground. If they’re distressed or in pain, they do “moo,” but it has a different pitch. Well, I heard this from the house, so I got a flashlight and went out to investigate.

As I got closer to the herd, I could see what was left of a great furor. Dust was kicked up from the ground, the herd was spread out with all the calves on the outside, and there was a distressed moo coming from the center.

When I investigated, I found the calf on the ground ripped apart; his mother was making most of the racket. I had never seen anything like it. Something had bitten into the calf’s neck and tore it out. There were also claw marks on his flanks. Now, this is weird as hell for a variety of reasons: 1. The calves should be in the center of the herd if they’re attacked and the herd should be clumped together. Meaning it was either able to sneak into the herd or was able to break it up. 2. Sometimes wolves will rip open or break the neck of smaller prey, but this is a damn calf! They are not small. 3. There shouldn’t be any wolves on my farm in the first place! There is a fence built around it, but no predator could jump it.

I unfortunately couldn’t inspect the calf too closely because his mother was mad with grief. She almost charged me a few times. So the next day, I called the vet to have him examine the situation and see if he could tell what did it. I had to use Lady and Duke to drive the herd away from the body. He said that it was definitely a predator and looked like a wolf, but the tooth and claw marks were too big. He also mentioned that the herd seemed restless and scared. And to be honest, I’m a little alarmed myself.

About a week ago, I saw this weird creature. I was driving home from a small venture in town picking up feed. I was the only one on a dirt, country road and it’s a long drive, but the day was beautiful. It was warm, so I had my window rolled down enjoying the breeze and I was watching the sunset. The sky was aflame with beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds. But, as I was looking out my window, I saw this dark wedge shape suddenly rise out of the tall grass that lines the road. As I got closer, I could tell it was some kind of canine. The head was quite large and lupine with pointed ears. I didn’t stop for a better look because I was pretty sure it was a wolf. But, there was something off about it—I can’t put my finger on it.

And then as I passed by, it turned its head and it made eye contact sending a shiver down my spine. It had brown fur and black eyes. Another thing that struck me as odd was that it could see over the grass, which I thought was three or four feet high. A wolf or dog sitting down wouldn’t have been able to see over the grass. And if it had been standing on two feet, I should’ve seen its front legs, shouldn’t I? Well, as I drove on watching it in my mirror, it disappeared back into the grass.

I have no idea what it was. Would you know? I’ve never seen a wolf that large in the wild, but with a steady diet, they can weigh close to 200 lbs. But what would it be eating out here? Sure there are wild deer around, but I wouldn’t think there were enough to feed a predator that size. If you have any ideas what it might be, I’d like to hear them.

Until then, this has been Rawlin J. Signing off from Weird Michigan.