Showing posts with label Dark Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dark Humor. Show all posts

Friday, October 5, 2012

The Vampire Bureau

An excerpt from:
The Vampire Bureau
by Lisa McCourt Hollar
Stefan watched the boy as he approached the yellow house. Decorated in gaudy ornaments, the porch light brightly lit the door, displaying a witch in garish orange and green colors. Stefan hid behind a tree, just out of the reach of the encroaching glow.
The boy, plump for someone so small, struggled to keep up with the rest of the children, his short, stubby legs sticking out beneath the sheet serving as his costume.
“A ghost, boooo hoooo,” Stefan said, his voice so low, the surrounding crickets wouldn’t have heard. How he tired of these games. The boy’s scent carried to him, causing his stomach to rumble a little louder than he would have liked. A bird sitting on the branch, unaware of Stefan, who had been standing so still he could have been one of the plastic figures peppering the lawns of the neighborhood, took off, startled by its sudden proximity to danger.
“Never worry,” Stephen grumbled, “it’s not your blood I am after. I would have to be far more starved than I am to find the little nourishment you would provide, palatable.
Stephen’s eyes never left his prey. The boy was slow, which took the sport out of the game, and probably dimwitted. The other children looked to be the kind who would have a sporting chance at survival, though even that was unlikely. He nearly said damn it all to the rules, his legs itching to spring from his hiding place and gather the children in his arms. He could be gone before the first trick or treat bag hit the ground. Their blood smelled more appetizing than the ghost boy’s. He could only imagine what kind of in-breeding might have gone on in Stubby’s family gene pool.
The Vampire Bureau would be on him before he had the first child drained. They had gotten rather testy lately, insisting all un-dead abide by the treaty they had negotiated with the government. The idea of a treaty being signed between the living and dead seemed ludicrous, but it had happened and all because a few of his kind had gotten greedy. Even then, the existence of vampires might have gone unnoticed, if not for the special task force the government set up to investigate Supernatural happenings around the world.
“We should have wiped them out,” Stefan grumbled, his belly protesting his delay to action.
The argument for a treaty had been sound though. They could have wiped out the human population, but in doing so, would have wiped out their food supply. They could have enslaved the living, but again, that would have meant trusting them not to revolt during the daylight hours, when they would be otherwise incapacitated. The treaty assured the government would leave the general population unaware of their existence, so long as they abided by rules.
Rules included blood banks and plasma stored in refrigerators, nursing homes and aged blood of the dying, the forgotten elderly lying in beds, neglected by the staff and ignored by their family. Rules didn’t allow for the draining of children, whose blood was fresh, pure of the toxins that would pollute their blood stream as they grew older; alcohol, drugs and sex with unprotected prostitutes, all served to make the blood a little less savory.
The group of children reached the front door and rang the bell. A woman answered, feigning fear at the gruesome creatures standing outside her door.
“Oh my, what do we have here? A witch, oh my, oh my… and Frankenstein and a werewolf, oh look at you, aren’t you a little doll.”
The princess smiled, holding out her bag, threatening to reveal a scarier side if the woman didn’t drop in a treat. The woman obliged, after insisting everyone follow the inane ritual of singing out their request.
“Trick or Treat,” they all echoed and the woman dropped her bribe into each bag, insuring her house would not be assaulted with rotten eggs and toilet paper. Last in line was the ghost, who stumbled over his feet in his rush for the door.
“My, but aren’t you a scary little guy,” the woman chuckled, dropping a chocolate bar into the proffered bag. The ghost mumbled a thank you and turned to join the rest of his group, who had already moved on, parents and all, confirming what Stefan had already suspected. The boy was a straggler, no more a part of the group than Stefan would be if he suddenly decided to join the group of parents. 
Stefan had tried the year before to blend in with a group, hoping perhaps for an invitation into one of the homes after the evening was over. He was sure he had heard once that these humans threw costume parties and played such games as bobbing for apples pin the fangs on the vampire. He’d thought about how much fun it would be if a real vampire showed up and played a game of his own.
If there was a party, he never found out. All parents have a warning signal inside, warning of danger. Most have learned to suppress it, dismissing their fears as silly and superstitious.  Stefan had given a friendly, “Hello,” having trailed a lone child to the group. They parent’s had looked him up and down, glancing at the boy, who was dressed in rags, with a fake hobo beard painted onto his face.  Stefan had at first thought the hostility emanating from the group came from the sense of danger built into all mankind and if he put on a pleasant smile and exchanged pleasantries with them, their anxiety would pass.
“So… are you, um, Eddie’s father?” 
The question had come from a young woman whose blood, oddly enough, smelled as though it was void of many of the addictive substances that tainted the taste for him. Stefan had looked at the woman, confused for a moment and then realized she was referring to the hobo. After a long pause, he answered, “Yes.”
‘I always wondered what you looked like,” one of the men said, turning towards him. “Surprised you managed to stay sober for the evening.”
While Stefan was trying to figure out how to respond, another father said, “Maybe we should show him how we deal with men who like to beat kids.”
Amused, Stefan realized they were angry because of who they thought he was, not because of what he was. He tried to salvage the night, but Eddie’s father was apparently a worse monster than any vampire could be and eventually he faded away, watching until the opportunity arose to take the child. The blood had not been as satisfactory as he had hoped. There are some things done to children that can taint the blood of even the innocent. He felt perhaps he had done the child a favor.
The ghost, encumbered by his small legs, hurried down the steps after the other trick or treaters, calling out a tiny, “Wait for me.” They either didn’t hear him, or as Stefan suspected, didn’t care and continued on without the boy. Hurrying his pace, he ran to catch up, not seeing Stefan until he stepped out in front of the child. Startled, the ghost nearly stumbled over the vampire, juggling his bag, which bore the image of a grinning Jack O’Lantern, in an attempt to keep from spilling his contents. He failed. The boy and the chocolate contents went sprawling across the sidewalk while Stefan pretended to be horrified.
“Oh my, here, let me help you.”
Stefan bent to help the boy pick up the spilled candy. Nervous eyes peered out of the sheet while the blood, oh the sweet blood, teased his senses, calling to Stefan to take one little bite. A low rumble trembled in the back of his throat, the sound startling the boy, who pulled his hand back as Stefan’s fingers grazed the back of it. His teeth ached, longing to break the delicate skin promising so much pleasure. Nearly in a trance, Stefan hesitated… he could do it and no one would know. The damn Vampire Bureau and their nosey paranormal agents would never know it had been him.  Childish voices pulled him from his reverie. Coming down the block, only a few houses away, was another group of Trick or Treater’s. Had they seen Stefan with the boy, could they give a description? These were dangerous times for being a vampire.
No, Stefan decided. Shadow surrounded him and his prey and at the moment they went unnoticed, but it wouldn’t be long before the little monsters were there. He needed to act swiftly.
“It seems your friends have left without you.” Stefan smiled knowingly at the boy.
“I… I can catch up with them.” His voice shook, betraying his nervousness.
“I bet you can,” Stefan laughed, winking. “But why should you? They think you’re slow, but I bet the never heard the story of the Turtle and the Hare.”
“Slow and steady wins the race.” The boy laughed, though fear still tinged his breath. Stefan tried not to breathe. Gads, he was hungry. A year of drinking approved blood had taken his toll. If he didn’t get something fresh soon, he wouldn’t be responsible for what happens.
“Yes and in this case, bigger and better candy. I know someplace handing out the King sized candy bars, not these tiny bite sized things which leave you wanting for more.”
“Where?” The boy’s voice shook with excitement.
“It’s a few blocks from here. Come with me and I’ll show you.”
The Vampire Bureau is one of 14 stories included in Jezri's Halloween Nightmares.

A collection of 14 stories, perfect for the Holiday, along with bonus material. Collection includes, The Bainbridge Witch, The Vampire Bureau, Ol’ Jack, Witch’s Brew, The Dress’s Curse, Retribution, Trapped, The Dragon’s Claw, Hide and Seek, A Prank Gone Too Far, Temptations, Dare, Ageless and Reverie, A Graystone Manor Short.

Bonus Material gives you free sample reads of Progeny, The Second Wave: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale, Blood Lust and Undead Ahead, a collaboration of stories by Lisa McCourt Hollar and Jeffrey Hollar.

Available on Amazon, BN and Smashwords.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Terror In The Woods

Terror In The Woods
By Lisa McCourt Hollar



Frightened, Cedric tried to slow his breathing, as the man with the axe strode by. His big feet narrowly missed his hiding place. Cedric shrunk back, his heart beating a mile a minute. He thought for sure it would explode from his chest. The man stopped, his feet just inches from Cedric's face. Turning 90 degrees, the man, a crazed look on his face, scanned the area, searching for any sign of his prey.

Cedric held his breath, holding still and willing his heartbeat to slow, or at least not beat so

loudly. After what seemed an eternity, the man turned once more, moving off in the other direction. Cedric breathed a sigh of relief, listening as the man moved deeper into the woods and out of sight. Silently, Cedric crept from the bush he'd been hiding in. He hurried away from the man and the deadly axe as quickly as possible.

"What the hell," he thought, "had the world gone insane?" At least now he knew what had happened to his friends. Over the last week, they'd been disappearing one by one. The only thing connecting the disappearances was the woods. Each one of his friends had been seen entering, shortly before they vanished, seemingly in thin air. Cedric had led a search party himself, but there were no traces of the victims to be found. That they were victims was a certainty and now he knew this for a certainty. Cedric just hoped he'd be in time to warn the others of the menace that waited for them in the woods. He prayed his wife was safe and hadn’t ventured out.

"Please," he begged, casting a quick glance heavenward, "for once let her have listened to me and stayed inside, instead of running off half cocked, like she usually does."

Cedric should have kept his eyes on the trees ahead and not the sky. Rounding the bend that would take him home, the frightened husband ran head on into the axe man's partner. He thought he'd lost him by the river, north of here, how had he made it back this way so quick? Cedric turned to flee in the other direction, but he wasn't quick enough. He felt the killer's hands close around him, his meaty fingers digging into his neck.

Cedric struggled, trying to free himself from his captor, but to no avail. This man was younger than the other killer, stronger and bigger. He held on tight as Cedric twisted, kicked and even tried to bite him. Unlike the first man, this one didn't relax his grip. Instead, he lifted Cedric off the ground, carrying him in the direction the older man had gone.

Trying a different tactic, Cedric went limp. Maybe if the psycho thought he was defeated he would let his guard down. It was then that Cedric realized the true horror. The man, this monster, wore a belt around his waist and clipped to the belt were several trophies’...rewards from his hunt. Cedric recognized the face of his best friend, his head hanging from the belt, nothing more than a treasure for this man to show off.

Cedric renewed his struggle but there was no escape. The man was too strong and Cedric too weak from the chase. Despair washed over him. He knew this would be the end. His heart ached. Cedric thought of his wife, hoping she would be okay without him. They had no kids. He choked back a sob knowing that he would leave no heir behind. There would be no one to carry on his name.

Shaking him like a rag, his captor called out to the other, having caught up with him. His voice sounded like a gunshot, disturbing the eerie silence that had come over the woods. "I caught him!" He shook Cedric again for emphasis. "I caught him! Can I be the one to chop off his head?"

The eagerness that was in the man's voice turned Cedric's stomach. The other man strode over to inspect their captive, a smile plastered onto his face. The axe shined in the moonlight, the sharpened steel resting on the burly man's shoulder. Reaching his partner, he lifted the axe and handed it to the younger man.

"Good job son! Your mom will be real happy. It's just not Thanksgiving without turkey"

THE END

(Poor Cedric. He will taste good on my dinner table though.)

Copyright© 2011 Lisa McCourt Hollar.  All rights reserved

Monday, November 29, 2010

The Horror On Drurry Lane

In keeping with my Christmas theme, here is a different kind of a horror, The Horror On Drurry Lane.  Oh, that Muffin Man is an evil little troll.


Gingy clung to her sisters as the huge man towered over them. Licking his swollen lips, he had a gleam in his eyes and smiled, almost joyfully as he listened to the screams of her youngest sister, Candy. Only moments ago they had thought the man harmless, willingly going with him when he had approached the trio, inquiring as to their price. His smile had fooled them and Candy had giggled as this huge teddy bear of a man had pulled her into his arms. He’d stroked her face with his hand and Gingy had watched with longing, wanting him to touch her the same way. Then so quickly that none of the sisters realized what he was about to do, he plucked Candy’s eyes right out of her head and popped them into his mouth, his eyes closing blissfully as he chewed his stolen treat. He was done now and staring at them, as though deciding what horrific thing he was going to do next.
Shuddering, Gingy realized he was reaching for her and tried to shrink back, attempting to evade his meaty grasp. His smile widened as he grabbed her arm, twisting and breaking it. As she screamed in agony the fat man chortled, his jolly laugh seeming out of place, considering the horror of his actions.

She screamed again as he twisted her leg, snarling out a “Ho” as her leg broke with a snap and a crunch... Somehow his word came out as a booming laugh. The man was enjoying himself.

Gingy closed her eyes, cursing the life she and her sisters had been sold into. If only they had listened to their mother when the smiling man had come to take them from their home. She had told them to run and hide, but Gingy had convinced her sisters that life outside their small home would be an adventure. Ignoring their mother’s pleas they had left.

The man was a business man and had promised the girls good work on Drury Lane. He’d dressed them up and put them on display, promising their services to the highest bidder. He was a good sales man, promising his customers whatever they wanted. “Come on,” he’d said to one in particular. “You always get the same muffins. I got a couple a new cookies here that you are going to love. Just give them a try.”

Gingy had enjoyed the looks this would be customer had given her and had sought to entice him, wanting to be chosen. And chosen she had been, along with her sisters, by this seemingly harmless old man. He had smiled at the sisters with such longing that Gingy had hoped he could meet their price. Now she would pay anything to be back home in her mother’s arms.

Pulling her towards him, the man licked Gingy’s lips, lustfully tasting the frosting slathered across her lips. Gingy whimpered, closing her eyes and wishing him away from her. His tongue continued to caress her lips and then her neck. He paused a moment, breathing in her scent, then flicked his tongue out once more, tasting her fear. Gingy cringed at the feel of his tongue, repulsed. Suddenly her eyes popped open as she felt his teeth sink into her delicate throat. Shocked, she gasped trying to fathom what had just happened. The fat pig had taken a chunk out of her!

Feeling violated in the worst way Gingy opened her mouth in a silent scream as she felt his tongue exploring the inside of her neck, his saliva oozing into her wound. She tried to beg him to stop, but the words wouldn't come. Tearfully she prayed to whatever god's she thought would listen and for a moment she thought her prayers had been heard. The man had stopped and for a brief minute she thought he was done and that maybe he would leave her and her sisters. Her eyes closed, she held her breath, pushing him away with her mind. She listened to his heavy breathing, waiting for it to fade as he moved away, but then she heard him chuckle again and realized he wasn't finished with her. She felt his tongue sliding up her leg as he chortled another “Ho,” and then bit into her thigh, taking most of it away with him. And still she couldn't scream.

After a time the shock began to wear off, or maybe she was just beginning to go into shock, but she could hear muffled screams coming from beside her. Rolling her eyes to the side she saw Sugar being held in place by the man's fleshy hand. To her horror half of Sugar's face was missing, her eyes beginning to glaze over. The word that Sugar kept screaming over and over finally began to make sense and as she heard her screaming Candy's name Gingy rolled her eyes back up, following Sugar's stare. Candy or at least Candy's arm was hanging out of the creature’s mouth! Then with a slurp the last of her sister disappeared and was ground up by the man/creatures teeth.

Before Gingy had a chance to react, to register in her mind what had happened, the man pulled Sugar to him, finishing off the rest of her head and then arms, legs and everything else. Numb, Gingy just lay there, waiting for him. Smiling, the man turned his eyes back to her and chuckled again, another booming "Ho!" Then pulling her towards him she watched as his great maw opened revealing razor sharp teeth. Gingy felt pain as he bit into her and then nothing as she joined her sisters.

"Well, what do you think?" The smiling man asked. "Didn't I tell you I had a coupl’a sweet cookies for you?"

"Ho ho ho!" The man laughed. "Those were the best cookies I've ever tasted. Almost seemed criminal to eat them."

"So you'll give me your endorsement?"

"You betcha! You can spread the word that Santa Claus loves your cookies. They may even sing you a new song!"

"You think so?"

"Sure sure. How about this... Do you know the cookie man, the cookie man, the cookie man...?

Friday, November 26, 2010

Demented Christmas

For my first blog, and since Thanksgiving is over and the Christmas Season is underway...



Demented Christmas

It was the middle of summer at the North Pole
And Santa Claus's elves were far from their goal.
Santa was a slave driver who always had a whip,
And the slave driven elves were afraid that he'd flip.

Why just the other day, Santa ordered them on track,
Then to show that he meant it, chained Victor to the rack.
He'd turned the wheel and tightened the rack,
Causing pain to shoot, throughout Victor's back.

Then once again, Santa turned it once more,
And from his body, the elf’s legs were torn.
Now Vic's in a chair, no legs to stand up,
If he falls behind, on his arms they will sup.

But no matter how hard the poor elves tried,
They couldn't keep up, and poor Vic would be fried.
The stress from the job caused them worry and pain,
And some of the elves were driven insane.

Duey, the elf in charge of the dolls,
Ripped off a head and threw it at Paul.
Paul, who was tired, at the end of his rope,
Lost it as his kaleidoscope broke.

Beads from the toy, spilled onto the floor
And the two angry elves started a war.
Paul threw himself on top of Huey,
Pounding his head while yelling
KABLOOEY!


Huey's head busted in two,
Splattering blood onto Sue's shoes.
Sue had always been a high maintenance elf
And spent a lot of time grooming herself.

The sight of Huey's blood on top of her shoes,
 Caused the vain elf to blow a short fuse.
She was in charge of stuffing the bears,
And began ripping off all of their ears.

She then fed the ears to the murderous Paul,
Making him eat not one ear, but all.
Paul, who was stuffed full of bears ears,
Grabbed hold of Sue and broke a few mirrors.

He smashed her face into the glass
And told her she had a fat, lumpy ass.
Sue fell back on her behind,
Blood in her eyes making her blind.

But Sue could hear Paul off to the side
And with broken glass in hand, paid him in kind.
She ripped his eyes from out of his head,
Just as poor Ted was heading to bed.

She bounced his eyes onto the floor,
Causing Ted to slip on the gore.
Ted grabbed hold of a candy cane
And turning to Sue, he took his aim.

He threw the candy cane at the vengeful Sue,
Aiming for her heart, but instead hitting Stu.
The force of Ted's throw caused it to sink
Into Stu’s brain before he could blink.

Stu fell over, landing on Sue,
The force of the fall flinging Sue's shoe.
The tiny elf shoe flew through the air,
Landing on Ted's head as the other elves stared.

The heel of her shoe had pierced his head,
And Ted fell on the floor, another elf dead.
Santa ran in to try and stop the fight,
A whip in his hand to show them his might.

The elves who were left standing in the room,
Were tired of Santa and singing his tune.
They were tired of working from morning 'till night,
While he got the glory on his Christmas flight.

Besides they knew, he didn't do it for kids,
But for the wealth he received from all of the bids.
Santa was good for the toy stores
And they paid him well to promote their toy wars.

Because of course Santa can't do it all in one night
And only hit a few countries on his yearly flight.
Parents not wanting their children left out,
Buy out the stores, so their children won't pout.

And to produce the toys for the homes where he flew,
He'd enslaved those elves, and some elves he slew.
They were tired of his whip and tired of fear,
And some of these elves were hungry for deer.

For the deer played a part in the cruelty they faced,
Because each elf he killed, the deer got a taste.
For reindeer don't eat only oats and hay,
For they also had Vin’s feet, just yesterday.

Santa raised his whip, to show them their place,
But the elves turned on him, and slashed at his face.
They pulled him to the ground and tore him apart,
And Vincent reached in and ripped out his heart.

Mrs. Claus ran when she'd seen what they'd done,
But the elves went after her, wanting some fun.
Like a piƱata they strung her up,
Each taking a turn to swat at her rump.

Finally she broke, and spilled on the floor,
All of her guts,
oh what gore!
They made a feast of Santa and his wife,
For forcing them into this kind of life.

Then when they were done and full of their meal,
They contacted the toy makers to make a new deal.
Christmas would continue, as it had been before,
But with Santa Claus dead, the elves ran the store.

They claimed Santa retired, along with his wife,
Off to Bermuda to live the high life.
The Reindeer kept quiet about what happened that night,
Since they didn't want to end up under the knife.

And the elves continued building toys for kids,
while toy stores world round continued their bids.
Copywrite 2010 by Lisa McCourt Hollar