Haunting Harmonies

Sounds and Screams

Disclaimer. I am not a trained musician/lyricist. All songs were recorded in my closet with a camera microphone and instrumentals made on GarageBand 2014, so I apologize for any issues with the quality.

What is it about a sound that affects us so much? Auditory sensations can have a significant effect on our being to the point that music can calm a restless child, can entice an amorous feeling in lovers, and can even bring tears to eyes at a funeral. So continuing my study of fear and being, the next topic to unearth is sound. Can these same sensations and sonic vibrations send shivers down our spine? If music is the language of the soul, then it is quite possible that agonizing screams and cries of terror could somehow communicate with the soul. What, then, would your being say when it heard the snapping of a jaw or the tale of a cannibal on a dinner date? And what of the lyrics? If terror and fright are somehow weaved into a poetic tale, gracing a complimenting instrumentation, would we accept them as music? I present my own answers to these questions with the work that I’m bringing on this week of Terror Tuesday. Somehow, I’ve picked up my musical habit ( I was a trumpeter for one year) and have begun creating my own sounds. The songs you may, or may not depending on your patience, listen to are written, composed, and produced by yours truly ( you can tell by the quality). However, if you choose to engross your ears, then look past the technological shortcomings and listen to the language of my soul.

 

 

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Night at the Kino: Groundbreaking Terror

Welcome once again to another Night at the Kino; however, this evening seems to be a bit more macabre than normal. As part of Terror Tuesday, I’m dedicating this month to horror, and what better way to introduce people to the genre than by reviewing movies that are landmark films. Each of these are original in their own right and have set the foundation for the majority of the films (both terrifying and cringeworthy) that we watch today. They may not all be considered “classics, ” but they have a permanent foundation in horror. Of course this goes to say that these are my opinions; however, I’ve been studying the genre and have made valid points to serve as evidence for my choices. There is a movie up here for every person too, despite what you may think. Watching the occasional scary movie can sometimes be a cathartic release of any potential fears that exist within your mind, so if you have nothing to do after reading this, why not stream one of these tales of terror. I try to keep the spoilers to a minimum as well but read at your own risk.

First in Fright

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This is a film you’ve probably never heard of, and you may, honestly, never watch but I’m starting my list with this entry because it is the first “horror” film (even before Hitchcock’s Psycho in 1960). The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari or Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari as it is known in Germany, its country of origin, was released in 1920 during the silent film era, and yes this is a silent film. The story follows Francis, his friend Alan (who happens to be in love with the same woman as Francis), the woman, a strange carnival, and an even more bizarre booth owner. Dr. Caligari comes to the festival and wows the crowd with a somnambulist (a sleepwalker), Cesare, who also has the ability to predict the future. What happens after this is a series of strange murders, a kidnapping, and a finale that will leave you with the taste of confusion in your mouth. “Gothic horror” is evident in the story, but is also present in the entire production. By utilizing various color filters and handpainted sets, the director Robert Weine thrills us with a visual display of psychedelic madness. My favorite aspect of this movie was the use of the musical score and how it overlaps whenever characters are “speaking,” it’s a genius way to combine visual and auditory sensations without having the actual dialogue. Remember, this is a silent film made in the 1920’s, during the German Expressionism movement; what they did for this film may be considered rudimentary to today’s standards; however, this movie opened the door for the horror genre in cinema.

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Favorite Line: “How long will I live…?” “Til the break of dawn”


Dying of Laughter

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In 1984 Big Brother rules and Oceania is at war with Eastasia, but in our reality, away from the Orwellian nightmare, we were graced with another form of terror. Wes Craven came to the director’s chair once again after successfully completing both The Hills Have Eyes and The Last House on the Left, but this time he approached the genre with a new idea, comedy. This unlikely combination of terror and laughs introduced us to the maniacal dream-murder Freddy Krueger in Nightmare on Elm Street. In a small town, on Elm Street, a group of teenagers finds their dreams haunted by a ghoulish man with a claw on his hand. Interesting fact: Craven got the idea after reading a report about a group of Hmong men mysteriously dying in from nightmares after refusing to fall asleep. What makes this movie so iconic is the villain. I’d argue that this film is carried more by Kruger than the protagonist Nancy, mainly because he was an entirely different villain than the previous movie monsters and masked killers. Krueger is a witty but ruthless, comedic but sadistic, a hilarious but horrifying character who throws in dark humor just before he mercilessly kills his victims. Craven also steps it up with the gore and the death scenes, for each one is uniquely crafted to the situation and the dreamer. Plus, this movie is the debut of everybody’s favorite pirate, Johnny Depp.

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Favorite Line: “Morality sucks”


“Based on A True Story…lol”

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You either love it or hate it, but you’ve undoubtedly heard of The Blair Witch Project (TBWP). Released in 1999 this film was a pioneer in the genre for one simple reason: found footage. This is a style of cinematography where the camera is angled from the point of view of the characters as if they were holding the device directly. What this does is add a new, intimate approach to terror. In TBWP, we follow a group of documentary students on a quest to uncover the secret of the Blair Witch, a mythical entity that is said to have lived in the woods. However, everything becomes increasingly tense as more strange happenings occur on their trip. If you’re looking for a film that gives you visual scares, then look elsewhere; the magic of TBWP is in the tense atmosphere that it builds. It’s heart-aching, dizzying, and traumatic while being a near-perfect imitation of a real camping experience gone horribly wrong. Although we may be too young to remember, this film also had an interesting twist when it came to promotion; it listed the three actors as missing on their website and utilized this gimmick to generate buzz for the initial release.

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Favorite Line: “I’m afraid to close my eyes, I’m afraid to open my eyes.”


Guess Who’s Going To Be Dinner

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Thomas Harris is a bestselling writer, and he is the creator of one of the most iconic cinema antagonists, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Harris’ novel, Silence of The Lambs, was adapted to the big screen in the year 1991, and it brought a dramatic shift to the horror genre by creating the “psychological thriller” subsection. Up until this point, horror movies were weekend flicks for teenagers and thrillseekers to watch, but this film attracted new audience members for its compelling and deranged story. FBI agent Clarice Starling, played by a young Jodie Foster, is recruited by the bureau to interview (read: interrogate) Dr. Lecter, the ever-impressive Anthony Hopkins, in hopes of learning clues to help them catch a serial killer by the name of Buffalo Bill. Some would argue that this isn’t a horror film, but it contains many of the elements: a crazed killer who skins his victims, a second crazed killer with a craving for human flesh, a labyrinth (in both the plot and home), a kidnapping, torture, and character suffering. It doesn’t get more horrific than that. This is also groundbreaking for it was the first “not-horror-but-really-is-horror” film to win five Oscars, including Best Picture, further validating horror as a true paragon of cinematic art.

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Favorite Line: “Put the lotion in the basket!”


Late Night Cravings

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Our world today is completely oversaturated with zombies. The shambling corpses are in everything from one of the greatest comic book-to-TV adaptations to 4.99 cell phone games your seven-year-old cousin downloads over Easter weekend with the family. But, none of that would be the case if George A. Romero wouldn’t have come to the screen in 1968 (his feature debut) with the OG of zombie films, Night of The Living Dead. Plotwise this is insanely simple, a group of ragtag people has to survive in a cabin against a countless onslaught of “flesh-eating ghouls.” Now, the zombie was already a mythological entity that Hollywood had already tackled back in the 1920’s with White Zombie, but this film was the first time we saw the brainless, ravenous creatures that populate our culture. Romero’s skill lies in his ability to create both tensions between the survivors and the ghouls, but also within the group; also he cast a black man as the lead character, which was unheard of at the time (but that ending tho smh). The film is shot in black and white, but it was later remade in color. We owe a great deal of our culture to this film, and the best part is, the word “Zombie” is never used in this movie.  

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Favorite Line: “They’re coming to get you, Barbara”


Mask On: The Concealed Killer

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We in America have John Carpenter to thank for many of our scares. This director/writer invented some of the best themes for horror, and he did most of it on an indie budget, starting with Halloween in 1987. The plot is quite simple (it becomes increasingly more fleshed out over the series…sort of), an emotionless murderer escapes from his detention center and returns to his small town to wreak havoc on a babysitter and her friends; did I mention that it was on Halloween night? What Carpenter does with this film is give us a realistic predator/prey scenario, which is reflected in the visuals. The cinematography is unique because Carpenter employs extended tracking shots that almost give one the feeling of “stalking,” and he doesn’t rely on cheap gimmicks (i.e. jump scares) to frighten us; his “Shape” (aka Myers), as it was called in the script, does that for him. This film not only opened the door for the “masked killer” genre (aside from The Town that Dreaded Sundown), but it also birthed the career of Jamie Lee Curtis who plays the babysitter. Her character also establishes the theme of the “resourceful, clean-teen” survivor, although there is a scene of her hotboxing with her friends. If you’re looking for something that makes you feel uncomfortable after watching then this is the film for you. Also, fun fact about Michael Myers mask: the production team had excluded a mask from their budget, so left with only a few dollars they purchased a Captain Kirk mask (in the likeness of William Shatner) and malformed it to create the terrifying face we know and fear today.

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Favorite Line: “He hasn’t spoken a word in fifteen years.”


Love Can Be Scary Too

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This list of original sins wouldn’t be complete if there weren’t a horror film that included genetics, a mad scientist, and…romance? Enter, The Fly, directed by David Cronenberg. The version I’m reviewing is 1986 one, featuring Jeff Goldblum as our surprisingly charming Dr. Brundle. What separates this film from other horror films (and crappy remakes in general) is its ability to craft a love story that eventually spins into a horrific tragedy. Dr. Brundle is a reclusive scientist who has successfully created a teleportation device, but when his experiment goes wrong, he slowly starts transforming into something more insectoid and dangerous. But the beauty of this story lies in the relationship between him and Veronica, the beautiful journalist (played by the equally beautiful Geena Davis) who is writing an article about his project. We’re able to witness the transformation of our beloved protagonist into this bestial monstrosity, but we also watch the tragedy unfold as Veronica tries to save her lover. Patience is key in this film as the pacing is relatively slow, but there are elements of humor and drama that make the time pass until it’s time for The Fly to appear. This film was much more successful than its predecessor for two main reasons: the establishment of the story before the horror, and the special effects (it won Best Makeup at the following Oscars). Also, I stand by this claim that this film has one of the best climaxes I’ve ever seen.

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Favorite Line*: “I’d like to be the first insect politician.”

*Although not my personal favorite, the line “Be afraid. Be very afraid,” was improvised by Geena Davis in this movie.


Man and Madness

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Madness is the greatest sickness of the mind, and this list wouldn’t be complete if there weren’t a film that delved into this metaphysical plague. Take one scary novel from a NY Times Best-Selling horror author and the visionary mind behind Full Metal Jacket and 2001: A Space Odyssey and you have created the terrifying classic known as The Shining. Written by Stephen King, The Shining is about a writer, Jack Torrance (played by Jack Nicholson), serving as the caretaker of a lavish hotel in the mountains of Colorado. He brings his family along and together they experience evil, in both the supernatural and the real. It’s a dizzying tale that’s sure to make any viewer squirm as they watch Jack descend into madness. Director Kubrick may have steered away from the direct source material, but in it’s place he created a visual masterpiece, often revered as one of the most artistic horror films. In every shot, there is a hint of fantasy, but it’s overshadowed by the realness of the situation, making it akin to a dream (or nightmare) rather than just a film. The soundtrack is another redeeming quality; there is more silence than sound, which draws our senses in and whenever it does grace our ears, the noises are more chaotic than typical songs. What Kubrick does with this horror film is show you that the terrifying things aren’t what you show, but what you don’t. This gives the viewer an opportunity to formulate his/her own fear, and there’s nothing more frightening than what is within the mind.

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Favorite Line: “Here’s Johnny!”


How to Properly Handle a Possession

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Considered one of the most terrifying films of the 20th century, The Exorcist, directed by William Friedkin, did something that other horror movies in the past hadn’t considered, which was to make a film that explored the dark side of religion, specifically (as the title says) exorcism. Exorcisms were, and still are, religious practices to “excise” a demon from a human host; many religions have their variation of exorcisms, but this film tackles the Catholic Church. When a teenage girl, Regan, suddenly starts to exhibit some increasingly bizarre behavior, her mother Chris, played by Oscar winner Ellen Burstyn, goes to whatever lengths to save her daughter including recruiting a priest, who happens to be struggling with his own faith. The buildup of the tension and terror in this film is phenomenal; we slowly watch this normal girl become possessed by a foul-mouthed (and I mean foul) demon. It also has a very realistic approach to the story, because chances are you’re not going to take your daughter to Father Ignacio the minute she has an episode. Aside from the story, the other notable aspects of this film were the cinematography and soundtrack. The song “Tubular Bells” may be one of the most chilling melodies that have accompanied a horror movie. The visuals have a way of entrancing the viewer with recognizable and comforting symbols of religion (ex. Statues of the Virgin & Crucifixes) and then at the same time transporting them to a dark realm where children can crab walk up stairways and twist their heads. This film is an essential for any supernatural horror fan.

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Favorite Line: “What an excellent day for an exorcism”


Fear in the Final Frontier

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Let me go ahead and get my fanboy out the way and say that Alien is one of the best horror films ever made and my personal favorite. With only one other film under his belt, Sir. Ridley Scott used his creative genius and improvisation techniques to give us the deep space terror, Alien, in 1979. In the late future, where space travel and androids are common, a mining vessel receives a distress signal from a nearby planet. When the crew goes to explore, they uncover a mysterious “alien” lifeform that finds its way back onto their ship…and proceeded to hunt the remaining crew. The film contains classic elements of gothic horror but also incorporates science fiction as well, which sets the stage for this survival horror. Each character is fleshed out enough to have us care about them, the xenomorph was unlike any movie monster we’d previously seen, and the progression of the story is well-paced. There are also thematic elements in the story such as the life cycle of the creature, birth and death, artificial intelligence, and even some feminism. Ellen Ripley, played by Sigourney Weaver, is worth mentioning too for her character is a break from the typical “helpless” female lead, in fact, Ripley is probably one of the most badass heroines in cinema history. The set design is another important quality; the Nostromo (the ship) is unlike any futuristic vessels. Most of us imagine space travel to be highly advanced, but this ship is a labyrinth filled with dead ends, claustrophobic ventilation shafts, aggressive steam, and other industrial elements. Even the antagonist, the xenomorph, goes through a change like the rest of the characters; tell me you weren’t terrified when it made its first kill as an adult. It’s design, along with the alien homeworld and Space Jockey, were creations of H.R. Giger (R.I.P.), a Swedish artist, whom Scott and the production team hired to be the art director. The “chestburster” scene is iconic and was unexpected by the crew (Veronica Cartwright’s reaction as Lambert is very real). What Alien did for horror was usher in the opportunity for genre-mixing, it blended so many aspects of cinema and art that it’s almost impossible to classify it as simply one. There are high tech computers and cryogenic chambers to appease the sci-fi fan, war-drama worthy camaraderie, and even elements of humor in the dialogue; but, what this film does most is generate fear, and it is this emotion that helps push it closer to the horror genre than the others. Regardless of where it’s classified, just know that this is a cinematic masterpiece and my number one film (in case you forgot).

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Favorite Line: “I admire its purity. A survivor…unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality.


Eulogy of the Essence

So there you have it, ten tales of terror on a Tuesday (say that five times fast). Now, I realize that there are plenty of other films that I did not cover, but these selected entries, to me, are the most groundbreaking when it comes to horror, either due to their effect on the genre or originality. Each of them has their own strengths and weaknesses, but fundamentally, they are complete, and for that reason, they sit as the pillars of my foundation of fright. When it finally comes time for me to tackle the dark side of cinema, I will be drawing inspiration from these productions. I hope you’ve enjoyed my review and take the time out of your week to catch one of these movies because a good scare can do wonders for the soul.


Deathly Double Feature

Life should have choices. There should always be more than one option, and often times there is (because inaction is a choice too). So, I’m going to give you two choices. The first story presented tackles the concept of the man inside the monster, while the second one covers the monster inside the man. These are my first two scary stories and I wanted to share them with you because today’s focus is on Groundbreaking Terror. Obviously, I wouldn’t be an apprentice of the arcane if I hadn’t tried my hand at the art, and for that reason, I’m going to share them with you so you know where I began. In retrospect, they are somewhat simple, but the effect they had on me is substantial, for I finally have stories that were of a darker tone. If you’re an avid follower of my works you may have already read them, but have no fear (lol) for there is something fresh coming for you, later on, tonight (like a masked man with a machete).  Without further ado, I welcome you to this next installment of Terror Tuesday. Enjoy.

 

Life-Stream

There was a slight glare from the light but she continued to look. It was darker than normal this afternoon, the sun seemed to go down earlier. The sound of heels tapping pavement could be heard on the other side of the alley. Instinctively she clutched her keys, placing them between her fingers. Her wedding ring made it difficult for the key to fit but somehow it slid in. Her phone in the other, using it as a guiding light, searching for the apartment number. Sirens wailed in the distance while television noises echoed through the hall. But then it became silent as if all the oxygen has suddenly disappeared. The darkness from the other side began to shift, slowly at first. Out of the void, a figure began to appear, the lights casting a dim silhouette over his face. And then a small light, a set of legs followed by hair and face. A woman. A lost sheep. Somehow she managed to step into his view, just when he was getting ready for the night. She seemed to be the perfect warm up for the approaching night. Tonight was his night. Under the mask, he could only hear his own breathing,

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Until the rhythm became him, then he would go.

The front pocket of his uniform was glowing, a white phone peeking from under the cloth. He looked to the streetlight, and from under the mask, it looked like the light was fading.
She didn’t notice him until he was only a few paces behind her, how quiet he moved. A slight chill went up against her blouse, causing goosebumps to stand at attention. It was mid-May but between the silent bricks, it felt like December. Cold with a hint of the end. She looked at the houses, watching the numbers climb. Her own destination seeming farther, while the end was still following. A Mis-step gave him away, for his feet were in sync with hers. She turned to see a small figure, a teenager. His outfit slightly dirty, the singe of the day’s grime was still on his sleeves. His hands were long, they almost didn’t belong to him. The streetlight flickered and his face appeared, only for an instant. Pale skin and hollow eyes, until two pupils appeared from the dark circles. A mask. She thought back to her husband and wondered would she ever get to stroke his chin hairs again, the small ones that only she could see when laying on his chest in the morning.

He walked to his prey and reached into his pocket. A flash of silver illuminated in the alley. Under the mask, he could only see one thing, her. Her body began to grow larger as he lumbered towards her. Suddenly it grew smaller, and her feet began to move quicker. No matter, they always run. He turned to the left and continued down the hall. His phone still sitting in his pocket.
She ran down the halls, screaming for help. It wasn’t enough for the occupied apartments seemed to only house lights. She turned around and noticed that he was gone. A slight trickle began to crawl down her legs, the liquids from earlier making an escape as she searched for hers. Her phone light was now off and the keys were no longer within her hands. She crawled into the pile of trash next to the rusted gate. The smell was only tolerable because her life was on the line, but she still gagged. And then it became quiet, no longer rustling plastic and drastic heartbeats.

His hand reached down.

Her hair was snatched.

His shoulders bulged as he lifted her.

The trash bags rolled off her legs as she was taken.

He kneeled next to her and unsheathed his knife.

In the distance, a trickle could be heard, a fresh puddle forming in the gutter. In the dark it was colorless, but in the morning the street would turn crimson. He lifted her body off the ground and tossed her into the trash, the festival was about to begin and he was late. She wasn’t…enough. He reached down into his pocket and checked his phone. His screen mirrored that of the alley, his new canvas. Leftover blood was streaked across the LCD lights and for a second the cells made a kaleidoscope on his mask. A solitary red flash was pulsating in the corner until a hold transmission button appeared. He pressed it and the screen went black. A lone sigh escaped from the nostril holes and a set of words refracted off of his face. The screen read “Lost Sheep” and his transmission ended.

I sat in the corner of my room, numb. Tears unable to fall and words no longer forming. What had I just witnessed? The ending of an innocent life or the craving of a sadistic man. The two accounts both open on my screen, wondering who’s story was the real one. I was afraid, but most of all I was confused. How, how could I watch that? How could I sit still and experience the end of an existence? I wondered who was the real monster as the same night sky began to fall over my bedroom window.


Shapeshifter

The harsh wind licked the dusted snow off of the poorly constructed cabin. Positioned a few meters away from the edge of the cliff was the construct rocking along with the blizzard. Ice crept in through the gaps in the roof. A young man with an overgrown beard threw open the door and hurried inside. He wore a leather jacket with fur around the shoulders, a wooly hat, and had a pair of rugged binoculars wrapped around his thick neck. Using the lens, he peered out over the other side of the mountain. “We’re safe,” he frantically said to his younger brother, cautiously positioned against the wood. The eldest pedaled back from the frosted window, and slowly doused the oil lantern sitting on the floor.
“You got it, right? I saw you attack it with your knife, right?”
“I think, it was moving so fast I couldn’t even tell.”
“What’s that on your back?” the younger brother weakly whispered. The eldest quickly reached for the fire prod before removing his coat and bringing it to his nose.
“It smells like…sulfur,” he said.
“Was that some bear?”
“I…I don’t know. I can’t even describe it .”
The wind’s speed started to diminish as the indigo moon crept behind the peak of the mountain. “I shouldn’t have brought you up here, this is all my fault,” the eldest said.
“Don’t think like that,” the younger exhaled.
“No, it is, I should have waited until you were healthier before we did this.”
“If we would’ve waited, I may never have done this climb,” he passively smiled. “You know I wanted us to go on this trip, we’ve talked about it for too long.”
“Always the optimist, even in the face of danger,”
“Right…” the younger replied. “What do you think we should do? Bar the doors?”
“Smart idea. Whatever is out there, it’ll have a harder time getting through the door if we block it.”
“Did you get a good look at it? the younger curiously asked while gasping for air.
He shook his head, and specks of crystallized sweat bounced onto the frigid boards.

The eldest rose to his feet and began rearranging the furniture to barricade the entrance. He angled the massive dresser towards the door, tilted the circular table to block the exposed window, and broke the lantern to scatters shards of glass in front of each possible entrance. Sitting in the corner, the younger brother watched in awe at his resourcefulness.
“This reminds me of old times?” the eldest said while wiping his hands.
“Oh…does it? How?”
“Remember how we used to play in the woods. I’d build a fort, and you’d sit around waiting for it to be complete. We’d stay out till the sun went down, and we’d play that one game. I forgot what it was called,” the eldest said.
Shapeshifter…”
“Ah, that’s it. You always wanted to be it too,” he chuckled.
“Mhm.”
“Those were the days…everything was so simple back then.”
“And then I got sick…” he confessed.
“And then you got sick.”
“Who would’ve thought,” he coughed, “that ma and pa gave me the bad genes?”
“Don’t blame them,” he stated.
“I’m not. Nobody is to blame but myself, for being so weak,” the younger paused. A gale cut through the logs and stung their sullen eyes. “That’s why you wanted to bring me up here, right? To show me I wasn’t weak.”
“Guess you figured out my motive, huh?”
“I am the smarter one, remember?”
“Is that so,” the eldest laughed.
The repositioned furniture slightly creaked as the night progressed.
“Do you even want to take a guess at what that was?”
“It had two legs, and it stood upright.”
“I thought I saw a tail or something attached to it. But I don’t know any animals that stand on two legs and have a tail.”
“Ever heard of a kangaroo?”
The younger leered at his brother, “you think a rabid kangaroo is chasing us across the Appalachian trail?”
“No, but it is an animal with two legs and a tail.”
“Yeah yeah, so we have no clue then,”
“Do we need one?”
“Not really, so long as we survive,” the younger confessed.
“We should escape, first thing in the morning.”
The younger nodded before dropping his head back onto the wood. “I’ll take first watch so you can regain your strength. You’ll need as much of it as you can if we have to make a quick escape.”
“Wake me up when it’s time to switch shifts, or if you hear anything. I don’t care if it’s just an icicle falling off of the roof, wake me up.”
The eldest snapped his fingers, before reaching for the cast iron prod in front of the fireplace.
In the stillness of the moonlight, a slight echo rang from outside of the cabin. The youngest just managed to drift off to sleep, before the echo resounded. He frantically jumped out of his nap, but reached for his side immediately afterward; his muscles were spazzing once again. “Did you hear that?”
“No, what was it?”
“Sounded like a shout. Shit, do you think it found us?”
“Doubtful,” the eldest said.
“What about our tracks?”
“The blizzard probably covered them by now, even ol Ham-bone and his bloodhound nose couldn’t find us. And we put them lights out as soon as we came in.”
“Right, I forgot about that,” he exhaled. The silver moon shone its light through the window, flooding the cabin with ivory. As the beam crawled from one wall to the next, the younger brother picked his head up for just a moment to notice his shadow across the floor. His sickly frame was barely visible; the radiation had eaten away at much of his muscles, leaving a crackling skeleton in its wake. The youngest twirled his wrists, watching the darkness give form to his figure once more before glancing at his brother; his eyes trailed the floor until they reached his sturdy boots. The eldest peered through the sliver of the window that was available, gripping the metal prod. The moon retracted behind a slight wave of snowy clouds, but for a short second, the younger brother failed to recognize his brother’s shadow. Along the floor were the shades of his boots, the iron in his hand, and even his hat; but in the areas where his body was visible were absent.
“Hey, bro-“
“Shhh,” he interrupted before placing his bony index finger over his lips.

The youngest remained quiet as he watched his brother from his corner of the bleak cabin. The remaining light from the moon dissipated, leaving them in complete darkness.
Huff. Huff. Huff.
Trying to control his breathing, the youngest clasped his shaking hands together and tightened his fingers around each other.
Huff. Huff. Huff.
A low growl came from outside the cabin that caused the younger brother to lose his rhythm. Unable to see his brother, he forced his buckled knees to curl, giving him enough momentum to rise. Using the wall as support, he nudged himself closer to the entrance, hoping to catch his brother. As he leaned against the sturdy board, the growl increased in volume, whatever was outside, it was coming their way.
“Brother, brother, where are you?” the youngest whispered. When he experienced the gnawing silence, he assumed that his whisper wasn’t loud enough, but he couldn’t even hear his brother breathing. The growl suddenly changed into something more of a shout, a primal cry. “Brother, please help,” the youngest whispered once more. Footsteps shuffled along the boards, and suddenly, he felt a frigid hand against his shivering arm. He had recognized the grooves of his brother’s hand before he pulled him down.
“It’s outside,” the younger stated.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“What should we do?”
“Maybe wait?”
“Right, the entrances are blocked. There’s no way it can come in.”
“Exactly…” the eldest voice had a sinister tone in it.

Continue reading Deathly Double Feature

Favorite Colors

There is a color in the horizon that does not belong.

It waits until the sun’s patrol is done to appear

A thief capable of stealing the pupils of children.

It springs forward from the monotonous grey

Providing proof of promises to young lovers.

 

This color is a fire that burns only for a few

Leaving a cloud of black smoke in it’s wake.

This is God’s favorite color, (or at least I’m convinced).

Appearing only when he wants it to

Serving as a blanket to wrap up our sorrows and satisfactions.

 

It looms over vast lakes and dense forests,

 

Able to grant the mother a moment of reprieve;

It is this color that I aim to add to my easel

 

Painting it upon my bare chest

Every time it appears.

 

I pray to carry it,

Always,

continuing live in this borrowed time

As a radiant child

Destined to illuminate the world.

 

May I always feel the warmth of God upon my face in the sunset.