Visitor from Hell – A short story

I do some work for fiverr. I posted my earlier successful poem “The Minotaur” which became my most successful post to date with 728 views.

This time I was asked to write a personalized horror story.  I overshot the word limit, but I don’t think she minded.  I thought I would share it with you.

Oh, and there should be trumpet fare and all kinds of celebrating, but I wasn’t paying enough attention:  This is my 400th Post!

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Visitor from Hell

By Scott L Vannatter

4/12/2013

The old, rusty chain must have weighed 80 pounds, Kimberly Heyward was not a tiny woman, but neither was she overly strong.  She pulled the links, sweat pouring down her back and making the flowery white blouse she wore damp and clingy.

She reached the massive door and dropped the metal rope to the floor with a ringing noise that echoed across the huge empty hallway.  Kimberly stopped and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.  Flinging the droplets downward, she reached up and struggled to shut the opening by pushing the wooden portal across the stone.

The aperture creaked and groaned as it swung on its iron hinges.  The final closure sounded off through the towing room like a cannon.

Kimberly knew she couldn’t stop; she had to go or else the unimaginable would happen.  The demon could not get into the protected room once it was sealed.  Her family may have all been killed by this hellish thing, but she did not intend to give it the pleasure of completing its mission.

She said back, exhausted, in the newly-found quiet of her fortress.  Only three more hours until midnight and the black devil would be forced to return to the abyss it had been accidentally summoned from.  Kimberly swore to herself that she would never play with old books again, especially when they dealt with black magic.

A sickly laugh brought her to her feet.  Her eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on a moving shadow in the corner of the ceiling.  “It’s here!” she thought.  “It’s allowed me to lock myself in with it.”  She fought to keep panic from making her lose consciousness.  She had to think.  Her grandmother had taught her to never give up; never give in.  She would fight until she could no longer stand.

The shadow flapped its leathery wings and dropped to the floor.  Its claws scratched the stone as it slowly walked toward her.  Saliva dripped from its lower lip.  Kimberly was unabashedly scared.  She had reason to be.  She had seen the bodies.

The demon stopped about ten feet in front of her.  Its smile was crooked and nasty.  The smell was putrid.  Kimberly swallowed what tried to come back up.  Her brain was going a million miles an hour.  She reviewed everything in her head.

Then, she stopped; she pictured her husband, her son, and her daughter.  She had lost them all.  She had lost them all to this…thing.  Her heart hardened and her resolve set in.  All her fear moved aside, giving room to the new emotion that pulsed within her.  This rage engulfed her entire being and she drew the small ceremonial dagger she had put in her back pocket after the summoning had completed and before the demon had appeared.  She had forgotten it during all the initial fear.

Kimberly took three huge steps, forgetting her fear and panic and launched herself at the creature.  It swung its razor-tipped fingers at her face, grazing her cheek.  She did not feel the wound, but brought the dagger over her head and buried it to the hilt into the hell spawn’s chest.  Deep, dark blackened blood surged from the stab wound.  The creature howled, injured by loving rage almost more than the dagger itself.  It shimmered in the damp air and pulled inward.

The cavernous room shook and a ragged tearing hole appeared behind the demon.  It fell backwards, sucked into the opening and disappearing into the distance.  The opening vanished; the demon gone; the room grew quiet.

Kimberly, alone and victorious, sank to the floor.  The blade slipped from her fingers and aged into dust within seconds.  Her mind, coming to grips with all that had happened and how different her solitary future would now be, accepted the truth slowly, and tears began to issue forth from her reddened eyes.  She wept and sobbed, a winner without joy.

The Dead of Night – A Poem

The Dead of Night
By
Scott L Vannatter
October 18, 2012

The line was drawn suffice it to say
The bitter truth was “War is Today!”
The sides were drawn as clear as a bell
It was earth on one side and the other was hell

Demons flew, skittered, and clawed
They all were malformed, broken, and flawed
Earth was ripe; the humans all fought
Amongst themselves, winning was naught

In this weakened state, they could be picked and killed
The bellies of the demons easily filled
Horrific and terrible their countenance stood
And showed it they did, not one used a hood

Soldiers knew they were fighting for more than their nation
If they lost this great battle, out went their salvation
Demons fought without bombs, no guns, or knives
They took and they took, not counting the lives

Grenades went off soundly the gunshots rang out
The blood mostly green from the demons did spout
Human blood red gushed forth like a fountain
And bodies were piled like mountain on mountain

Planes in the air met winged bats and vultures
Seems demons came forth from most all the cultures
Machine guns spit and huge bombs dropped forth
But more and more nightmares came from south and from north

Bits of the creatures splattered the walls
And more of their bodies littered the halls
But for every hideous beast that was slain
A human was slaughtered, more of the same

The battles dragged on for days upon weeks
We sacrificed much to kill all the freaks
Our numbers grew less, as they seemed to be more
When a dozen attacked, hundreds flowed from the floor

Our races outnumbered, we hadn’t a chance
The creatures they knew this and fought with a dance
Prayers were sent skyward and fervently given
But the pace of the battles increased and were driven

By malicious intent, they ripped out the eyes
And ate them at leisure, like we would some pies
They gnawed at our bones once torn from our frame
They didn’t mind dying; they saw in it a game

One mountain we took and called it “Old Glory”
It was written about in a good, solid story
But for the one that we took, several more that were lost
And the lives spent on “Old Glory”, were too high of a cost

Blood spewed from the mouths as they ate out our hearts
They sucked and they licked the cut-away parts
From the corners of mouths dripped gore like honey
The darkness was growing it was much less than sunny

Night overtook and daylight was taken
Our lives were for naught our souls seemed forsaken
The hell spawn and soulless screeched out in dark prose
They knew we were losing and their intensity rose

They pushed us all backwards through swamp and through stones
We found ourselves stepping on our dead’s very own bones
They would crack and then snap as our soldiers retreated
The oozing black monsters knew we were defeated

It was over we knew it; the demons were winning
Too many had died; our numbers were thinning
The earth, blackened, was dying; the demons near done
Now they would enslave all the living and start their wicked old fun

The ground began shaking; the noise was most fearful
Women and children became very tearful
Then our eyes had to look twice as they grew round as a cup
Because all our dying and dead had stood up!

It seems they didn’t think that fighting once was sufficient
They stood up as soldiers and much more efficient
They grabbed sticks and rocks and used cracked bottles and lumber
To strike at the beasts, to kill them in number

The dead fought with living to take on the evil, vile crowds
And it renewed all our soldiers who surged forward in clouds
They attacked with new vigor knowing they surely could win
Because if they died they would rise up again

The screaming and agony switched from our side
As with the undead helping it was turning the tide
The demonic horde fell flapping and ripping and dying
From a certain held victory they now were all crying

And pounding and shredding the dead and the living
Were striking the heart of the vile without giving
An inch of surrender, no mercy was shown
Back into hell was the horrendous horde thrown

Once it was finished, it had taken a year
The dead bones were restful; they dropped with no cheer
But the shouts from the living resounded for days
For when the war ended, the sun shone its rays

The dead were now done; they were needed no more
So we buried them all; and let our praises all soar
We thought about dying and how after even the fall
God used them to help us; He did hear our call

I wrote this and sent it to my publishers.  The editor was pleased with it, but chose, instead, to publish my story “Tiger, Demon Burning Bright”.  That made me very happy.  I hope you enjoyed this dark poem as much as I loved writing it.

Namaste,

Scott

Immortal Moments: Minutes in Movies

I am, as most know, a great lover of movies.  I enjoy movies of all types.  Yet, there are those moments when one line, one action holds me spellbound and I cannot ever forget that line nor that moment.

With the coming of “The Hobbit” and a resurgence of LOTR, I am reminded of one such moment.  It may, perhaps, be THE moment for my movie career, though others might not see it as such.  It is that one line in LOTR in which Gandalf is standing on a stone bridge and, in order to save his friends from the demon, refuses to yield and his words,

“You Shall Not Pass!”

will resonate me with deep emotion and near-tears.  It did so when I read it and, in one of the few times I have ever seen, it also invoked the same emotion in the film.  Today is a short speech for me, but I will share this moment with you.  Those of LOTR following already know the scene:  watch it for remembrance.  Those who do not follow LOTR: watch it and feel the thrill of someone truly sacrificing himself for friends and a cause.

How about you?  Is there such a moment in book or film that sends your heart sailing more than any other?

Namaste,

Scott

The Dead of Night

The Dead of Night
By
Scott L Vannatter
October 18, 2012

The line was drawn suffice it to say
The bitter truth was “War is Today!”
The sides were drawn as clear as a bell
It was earth on one side and the other was hell

Demons flew, skittered, and clawed
They all were malformed, broken, and flawed
Earth was ripe; the humans all fought
Amongst themselves, winning was naught

In this weakened state, they could be picked and killed
The bellies of the demons easily filled
Horrific and terrible their countenance stood
And showed it they did, not one used a hood

Soldiers knew they were fighting for more than their nation
If they lost this great battle, out went their salvation
Demons fought without bombs, no guns, or knives
They took and they took, not counting the lives

Grenades went off soundly the gunshots rang out
The blood mostly green from the demons did spout
Human blood red gushed forth like a fountain
And bodies were piled like mountain on mountain

Planes in the air met winged bats and vultures
Seems demons came forth from most all the cultures
Machine guns spit and huge bombs dropped forth
But more and more nightmares came from south and from north

Bits of the creatures splattered the walls
And more of their bodies littered the halls
But for every hideous beast that was slain
A human was slaughtered, more of the same

The battles dragged on for days upon weeks
We sacrificed much to kill all the freaks
Our numbers grew less, as they seemed to be more
When a dozen attacked, hundreds flowed from the floor

Our races outnumbered, we hadn’t a chance
The creatures they knew this and fought with a dance
Prayers were sent skyward and fervently given
But the pace of the battles increased and were driven

By malicious intent, they ripped out the eyes
And ate them at leisure, like we would some pies
They gnawed at our bones once torn from our frame
They didn’t mind dying; they saw in it a game

One mountain we took and called it “Old Glory”
It was written about in a good, solid story
But for the one that we took, several more that were lost
And the lives spent on “Old Glory”, were too high of a cost

Blood spewed from the mouths as they ate out our hearts
They sucked and they licked the cut-away parts
From the corners of mouths dripped gore like honey
The darkness was growing it was much less than sunny

Night overtook and daylight was taken
Our lives were for naught our souls seemed forsaken
The hell spawn and soulless screeched out in dark prose
They knew we were losing and their intensity rose

They pushed us all backwards through swamp and through stones
We found ourselves stepping on our dead’s very own bones
They would crack and then snap as our soldiers retreated
The oozing black monsters knew we were defeated

It was over we knew it; the demons were winning
Too many had died; our numbers were thinning
The earth, blackened, was dying; the demons near done
Now they would enslave all the living and start their wicked old fun

The ground began shaking; the noise was most fearful
Women and children became very tearful
Then our eyes had to look twice as they grew round as a cup
Because all our dying and dead had stood up!

It seems they didn’t think that fighting once was sufficient
They stood up as soldiers and much more efficient
They grabbed sticks and rocks and used cracked bottles and lumber
To strike at the beasts, to kill them in number

The dead fought with living to take on the evil, vile crowds
And it renewed all our soldiers who surged forward in clouds
They attacked with new vigor knowing they surely could win
Because if they died they would rise up again

The screaming and agony switched from our side
As with the undead helping it was turning the tide
The demonic horde fell flapping and ripping and dying
From a certain held victory they now were all crying

And pounding and shredding the dead and the living
Were striking the heart of the vile without giving
An inch of surrender, no mercy was shown
Back into hell was the horrendous horde thrown

Once it was finished, it had taken a year
The dead bones were restful; they dropped with no cheer
But the shouts from the living resounded for days
For when the war ended, the sun shone its rays

The dead were now done; they were needed no more
So we buried them all; and let our praises all soar
We thought about dying and how after even the fall
God used them to help us; He did hear our call