Shadows will breathe

Shadows will breathe
"Careful. Evil has a way of making friends with the good and dragging them into the darkness." ~ Dr. Al Robbins

Thursday, September 21, 2017

The Red Shed

Hello, Creepsters and welcome to #throwbackthursday.
This week, I picked a short that I wrote a few years back.
Not far from where I live, there lies a red shed.  It's set back from the road and only truly visible in the winter, when the trees are asleep and bare.  Only then, can you glimpse a peak into this backwoods terrain and snag a view of this Red Shed in its entirety.  Only then, can you give in to your imagination and theorize what goes on in this Red Shed.  
Or maybe ask yourself, what kind of trouble has gone on there in the past?
Maybe we will never know.
Maybe Tara can tell us...

The Red Shed
Nightmare #12:
The red shed sat alone in the field, its only visual company a flock of evergreens on its one side.  Spread upon its boards, a fresh coat of red paint that dripped onto the snowdrifts billowing around it.
The structure looked so out of place and how Tara ended up here was beyond her recollection.

She panted little clouds of smoke into the frosty air and trudged on through the snow drifts.  Upon reaching the door, that bitter stench of paint filled her nostrils and made her woozy.  She grabbed hold of the bronze handle, red paint brushing against the side of her hand.  "Damn it," she cursed the air.  She tried rubbing it off onto her jeans, but only managed to smear the stain in both places.

She grabbed for the knob again.

This time, she hesitated.

Why did she have to go in?  
What was it that brought her here?  
Why was she trembling?
What did she know that she couldn't remember?
Why was she here, stuck in this dream?  This nightmare?

She breathed deep, drawing the cold air into her lungs.
She turned the handle and stepped inside the shed.

It was dark and ridiculously quiet.
With only a little stream of light from the open doorway to guide her, Tara paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the shadows.

Looking around, she could see sawdust at her feet; red board - with that same fresh-paint smell -encased the walls of the room; and in the corner sat a large white basin.
She tiptoed forward, forcing herself towards the porcelain monstrosity.
Her boots click-clacked across the wooden floor.

Nearer the object, a terrible stench of urine caught her nose and she felt herself swallow a bitter taste that filled the air.

She didn't want to look.
She didn't want to see it.
She didn't want to know.
She knew she should run out of there.
She knew there was nothing good that was coming out of this dream.  This nightmare.

But she couldn't run.
She could barely hold herself up to peer into the basin.
But she did.
And she could never unsee it.
And she could barely catch her breath.

In that same minute, the shed door slammed shut behind her, snuffing out the little bit of light that had guided her.
She heard its handle latch.
She didn't even try to yell.
She didn't run to the door and bang on it or holler for help.
Tara knew why she was here.
She was here to atone.
Her tears fell hard and they fell fast.
She glanced once more into the over-sized basin.

All that blood.
All those bones.
How many victims were there?  
How many more would there be?
How long would she have to stay in this dream?  This nightmare?

Tara slumped to the floor and covered her mouth to keep from screaming, knowing now why they called it a slaughter tub.

The End 

- Deevious -

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Paranormal Prank

It's always funnier when it isn't happening to you. 😈
I stumbled upon this on YouTube and laughed it up at their expense.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Choke It Down...

Image found on Pinterest

I stumbled upon this quote and fell in love with it.
It is so poetic;
And true;
And tragic.
Enjoy the ride.


Monday, September 18, 2017

Just Released

Hello, Creepsters and Happy Monday.
More specifically, Happy Music Monday.
If you've been following me over the years then you know by now that I like a huge variety of different music.  I can go from Pink Floyd to The Chainsmokers to Disturbed within minutes and bring it back around to Maren Morris and end it with some sort of great 80s jam.
My point?  I listen to it all and I truly appreciate any suggestions made to me.
I will always - at least - listen to a song.
I will always give it a chance;
It's due respect.
At most, I will download the tune and allow it to change my life forever.
I want to say thank you to all the Creepsters out there for the music recommendations you have given to me over the years.  Thank you for broadening my knowledge and my tastes.  Thank you for taking the time to share a bit of your soul with me.  I am grateful.

I am returning the favor this Monday, to let you in on one of my favorite artists.
David Gray.
Maybe you've heard of him;
Maybe you've been listening to him for years;
Maybe you turn him off as soon as he comes on;
Maybe you're not a fan;
Maybe you love him too.

Whatever the case, I receive updates on his music and just found out he dropped a new song today.
So, here it is...
This is what I'm listening to today...
Check it out and let me know what you think, Creepsters.
Or leave a comment on one of your favorite artists/songs that you want to share with us here at Night Lights.
Either way,

Thursday, September 14, 2017

A Nightmare to Remember...

Why do bad things happen to good people?
Or do we just assume they're good people?  

Are we all not a mix of kind words and harsh opinions?
Of good acts and wicked intent?
Of sweet love and lecherous thoughts?

And how wide is this invisible line between good and evil? 
How thin is that veil between the dark and the light? 

The Argument
Nightmare # 71:
     I lifted my head and found myself in a Roman Catholic church.  My one hand was leaning on a pew made from red oak and an open missalette was in the other.  The Gospel reading came to a close and a loud bustle of commotion ensued as the whole congregation took to their seats.  The priest stepped off the altar, genuflected and took a seat in the front row.  From the vestibule entered a thirty-something man with thick, blond hair and Clark Kent glasses.  He walked with a limp to the podium.
     Clearing his throat, he introduced himself as Dr. Jekyll.  I scanned the immediate area wondering why I was the only one a bit startled by his name.  Those around me sat in an attentive manner - never flinching - their eyes fixed on our speaker.  This so-called Dr. Jekyll raised his right hand into a fist, as if he were summoning an army behind him.  He brought the fist to his upper torso and pounded his chest with such force and so many times, I thought he might knock himself out.  Instead, he stopped his penance abruptly and moved both arms out to his sides.  When he addressed the congregation, he spoke in a boisterous voice and in true form of evangelists everywhere.
     "It is no longer enough to just be aware of evil in this world.  You must acknowledge it, embrace it, and confront it.  You must look evil square in the eyes, not with fear or even pity, but with a confidence so extraordinarily strong that it cowers from you, turns away, and runs with its pointed tail between its legs."

     He paused, allowing us time to take in his words.
     Then he asked, "Are you aware of the evil in your life?  Of the evil in you?"  His voice raised another octave.  "It is important to remember that evil takes on many forms, but so, too, does goodness.  And in the words of Ellen:  Be kind to one another."
     A malicious cackle filled the church.
     My attention wavered from the good doctor to the source of the chuckle.  It came from a menacing-looking creature that had entered from the back door of the church.  The creature slithered through a few of the pews, like a criminal scoping a mark.  It made its way up the aisle, resting in front of the now open-mouthed congregation.
     A trail of white slime followed its path and congealed in its wake.

     A baby bawled in the background.
     The creature was both handsome and hideous.  It stared at me with dead eyes.  I stared back, angry with myself for being unable to break its trance.  Its complimenting features included a tall, slender build that held onto a very crisp suit, complete with tie and cuff links.  Muscle mass bulged in all the appropriate areas and in perfect proportion.  From what I could sense, he emitted a scent like cherries.
     And in the next moment he changed.
     Just like a hologram, he shifted into a leathery, wart-like creature with a thick, reptilian tail that jutted out the bottom of his suit jacket.  His skin took on a melted feature and he winked at me.  I made no movement, but continued to stare like an onlooker of a horrific car accident.
     "Mr. Hyde," the evangelist at the podium growled. "You are not welcome here."
     "My dearest Jekyll," Mr. Hyde replied, his hologram facade swaying back and forth from divine to deformed.  "If I may be so bold as to remind you that without me you couldn't exist.  You would be undervalued and ignored.  You would be as boring and as bland as food without salt; as a sauce without spice; as a cookie without sugar."  Hyde chuckled louder this time, his cackle bouncing off of the walls and all around those assembled.

     "You need me.  You need me even if it's nothing more than a reminder to know that you are true at heart.  And as hard as it is to admit, I am inclined to say that neither of us could exist without the other.  Don't you see?  We are cast from the same shadow.  We are forged from the same signature.  We are forever intertwined, you and I."
     And the organ rang out.
     And the baby cried again.

     And I made a sign of the cross.

Written by:  Deevious 

Just what are we capable of?
I would like to think that we, as humans, are born basically good.  That evil is an after thought.  
Perhaps each of us is a little bit of good and evil;
a little bit of both the light and the darkness;
a bit of sweet and sour;
a little bit of Jekyll and Hyde. 

Your thoughts?

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

The Voices

I cannot hear you over the sound of my crazy.
Perhaps we should discuss your sanity.

Image found at this blogspot