Death Worm Part 1

It was another normal Friday morning. Everything went in perfect sequence -- I woke up, got out of bed, fixed the sheets, took a bath, dried my hair, put my clothes on and marched down the stairs. Right now, I'm eating cereal while watching the news. Today's featured report lacked realism. The reporter rambled emotionlessly about how two Americans survived the harsh winds and the sandy terrains of the an-Nafud desert. The tall and thin one, Randell, flashed his best smile for the camera while stating the hardships they've been through as they explored the desert by foot.  The fat one, Blake, berserked halfway through his interview, claiming that two of his comrades had been eaten alive by a vicious beast. Before he had even started describing the "beast" that so haunted him, I turned off the TV. The last thing I needed is some crap for breakfast. 

I finished my cereal and shifted the bowl aside before standing up. I brushed off the invisible dust on my jeans before snatching my bag away from the couch. I paused for a moment, listening to the sound of my father's incessant snores. Looks like he won't wake up any time soon. Mother had already left for work because earlier this morning, I had heard the car roar to life below my bedroom. Probably an emergency.

I directed my glance towards the door, unhinged a few locks and opened it. Everything that characterized the outside world was in the best state they could possibly be in. Everything was normal. 

I walked to the bus station, where the school's shuttle will arrive in a moment. Waiting made minutes feel like hours since there's nothing to do during my short time of anticipation. My hot temper began to kick in and I started to curse myself for being too enthusiastic about school. I only stopped for a breath of suburban air. Then my head perked up to the sound of wheels skating along the graphite. The bus was a few meters away. From my point of view, the number of students inside could easily be counted. And that was definitely not normal.

The doors pulled open and I stepped inside the bus, taking in the familiar faces and the not-so-familiar ones. Thankfully, most of the people present were my friends. 

"Last as always, Isabelle [A/N: Seriously, I was thinking of a HE at first.]," The driver informed me. "But not least, remember that."

I nodded and took a window seat to the right. I looked at the houses that zoomed by, the trees that obscured the sun and "Grandpa Jenkins", a hunched old man who'd smile at our school bus every time he sees it. I waved at him before he vanished from my sight.

As the bus entered the city, I couldn't help but notice that the number of pedestrians had lessened significantly. Some were being ignoramuses while the others were doing a good job being normal people. I stared at my reflection on the window and noticed that my brown hair had been left uncombed. Billions of strands cascaded past my shoulders and ended in a series of tangles. My black eyes were also tired and cloudy... Tired of seeing normal things, probably.

Then the bus made a turn and stopped so suddenly for no obvious reason. My body was propelled forward and backward in an instant. I gasped and looked at the driver. "What happened?" 

The man who looked so brave behind a steering wheel was now shaking violently. He slammed his fist against a red button and scurried towards the door which shifted open in reaction to his desperate gestures. His feet could barely carry his large body as he ran away from the bus. 

Then we heard a different sound... The sound of something shifting from below the vehicle. I summoned courage to stand up. Then another thing altogether burst from the ground, devouring the front of our bus, missing my body by inches. I gulped. In front of me was a thick wall of gray skin comparable to a snake's. The noise it made as it emerged was ear-screeching. I fell on my back and crawled away from the opressor. Pain shot my right hand. A sprain, maybe. 

"Isabelle!" Someone called from behind in a deep, loud voice. "Isabelle we have to go!' 

It was Hale, charming even in the midst of danger, and he had used his fists to smash a window open. The rest of the students were already in a panic-stricken state and it had taken a lot of time for half of them to get out through the makeshift exit. I wanted to make a run for it too. The problem's that the window is located at the left end of the bus and I am currently lying lazily in the foremost part of the aisle. I barely even have the strength to stand up again. 

I glanced at what used to be the windshield and the driver's seat. The creature was far from us, digging itself back into the ground. I grabbed the seat beside me while clutching my bag, and tried to stand up. Then the monster went up again. Its ugly face was in complete focus as it neared our bus. It had no eyes... not even the slightest signs of noses and ears... All it had was a huge mouth and several rows of teeth. 

Adrenaline got the best of me and I got to the window Hale had smashed faster than I had expected. I jumped out of it and managed to make a perfect landing. 

"Come on," he said. He pulled my bag along with myself as we ran back to where we came from. Then we stopped and observed what was happening ahead. Police cars skied across the road in speeds that defied law. I looked back at the empty space where our bus once stood and noticed that a deep pit had taken its place. I paid no attention to Hale as I stared at the chaos that was striking this normal little city. 

Every second was slow... detailed... nightmarish. The creature shot out from the ground, devouring an unwary pedestrian as it dove back down. After a few seconds, it appeared again. Debris clouded its misshapen form and hideous appearance. Before it maneuvered back into the ground, an ill-fated driver and his truck crashed into what I observed to be its tail. In a moment, there was an outburst of orange, and fragments of black ashes with golden rims. Then there was me, tired and helpless. Taking in what seemed to be the end of the world.  

[Remarks: It's been a long time since I've updated this blog of mine. 

Anyway, this story was based off a game called "Death Worm". I couldn't help but be inspired by the way the worm eats people... It's so cute...] 

Last Attempt

Rin and her brother, Ikuto, had spent almost 24 years together in an apartment in San Diego before heading back to Japan, a place where ghost stories were not uncommon. Seeing their chance, they began to write about fictional encounters with the paranormal. They had always wanted to see a ghost, but since the day they were born, the dead have neither communicated with them nor made their presence known.

They had traveled from Hokkaido to Chiba, staying at centennial inns that have withstood aging or camping in a forest where many apparitions have been sighted. They seek ghosts everywhere but they can't seem to catch a single one and it was either because the dead hated them or that they have a really flawed sixth sense. But their luck was strong and even if the day was disappointing for the siblings, they still ended up writing a really good book.

Some of their books have been serialized as mangas [Comic books] while the rest seemed too marvelous for movies that producers are having a hard time making a good script out of one without ruining it's intricate plot. The siblings were pretty much satisfied with their lives, going as far as maintaining an almost-incestuous relationship with each other.

Rin stared at a wine glass which gleamed yellow against the light as her brother entered the living room with two bottles of vodka in his hands. They had successfully finished a book that entailed another one of their midnight trips. This one was quite different from the rest considering that they had chosen a very fitting place for an escapade -- Aoyama Reien, one of Tokyo's largest cemeteries. A proof-reader claimed their manuscript earlier, and by tomorrow, there was a high chance of seeing the book's name on the best-seller's list.

Rin had finished pouring the wine in her glass just as Ikuto began drinking his portion.

"We stayed in Aoyama Reien for 25 hours and saw nothing. Not even a mosquito," Rin muttered using flawless English.

"Either way, the proof-reader was impressed," Ikuto retorted in the same language."She kept ranting about what a privilege it was to be working for us two. It was--"

"Mendokusai," Rin spat the word out to finish her brother's sentence. "Bothersome. That woman wastes most of her time talking. She's probably drooling over the manuscript right now."

Ikuto didn't continue the discussion. He was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to discern something. His eyes moved from one side of the room to the other, like an eagle waiting for its prey.
"I thought I heard someone whispering in my ear," He said in Japanese.

"Must've been your imagination," Rin remarked, standing up groggily with a glass in her hand. "You're almost drunk."

Ikuto shook his head. "No, Rin. It was too real. It sounded like--"

At that instant, an eerie reverberation erupted from the door to the left. It was followed by an ear-screeching bang and a few scratches -- as if someone was clawing at the door. Ikuto, being sensitive to and angered by the noise, stood up and dragged himself across the room to relieve himself.

He swung the door open, readying his throat for the profanities that would flow through it once he caught sight of the person causing the racket. He stopped dead, looking down on the floor.

The outside of their apartment was flooded with blood, and in front of Ikuto was the mercilessly-twisted body of their proof-reader. The woman's face was recognizable beneath the blood, but the rest of her was not. Her wrists were broken. Her spine was bent in the most inhumane way. The lower part of her legs were nearly torn off her knees and her neck... Her neck had been completely skinned off, revealing nothing but red bones. Her eyes were focused on him, as if he was the person who had put her in that state.

Ikuto turned around, only to find a girl no older than 13 feeding off Rin's limbs. His sister was already gone. Her eyes were open, but her pupils had rolled behind her eyelids, showing nothing but white. He held his breathe, fearing what it felt like to be dead.

It was then the little girl took notice of him and she smiled, flesh and blood hanging off her lips. Then slowly, she walked towards him -- hands flexing with hunger and excitement. Ikuto's mind darted back to Aoyama cemetery... to the tombstone that he had demolished in an attempt to anger the spirit of whoever it belonged to...

He tried to remember the name that was neatly etched on the stone... but he couldn't.

Random Persona: Kuchisake Onna

Smile for the camera!
[Image taken from leyendasurbanasnj.wikispaces.com]

Kuchisake-onna (the slit-mouthed lady) hails from a Japanese urban legend which revolves around a yokai in the form of a woman who goes around town wearing a mask, wielding a pair of scissors and questioning passers-by if she's beautiful. Now, if you're being interrogated and you say that she's pretty, she would remove the mask, revealing an extremely long and deep gash on the lower half of her head, then she would ask the same question again. If you try to run, she'll hunt you down and kill you. On the contrary, if you say she's beautiful, she would use her knife to carve a slit on your mouth area so that you would look like her.

There are known ways of escaping her wrath such as saying that her looks are average. If you do this, she would be confused and you'll have time to run off. However, many versions of the legend state that she is virtually inexorable. If you manage to avoid her, she'll find you, eventually.

Notable films:

• Carved (2007)
• Kuchisake Onna (2007)

Yours

Maria paced back and forth in her cozy little bedroom. She had just left her town of birth -- a place where she had learned to grow up and cope with the problems she had brought upon herself -- and decided to live in a two-story grange which was situated in the heart of the woods where she knew she was safe. Right now, she was contemplating on her mother's suggestion that she'd marry soon... She was 27 after all, and most of her friends already had children. All the more reason for her mother to be jealous.

But every time she brought a man home to introduce to her mother, the lady would often comment on how her daughter could do better than a "gold digger". Her mother could be quite stingy, especially when it comes to people who can't seem to spend a dime. Maria thought no one she had learned to love would be good enough to impress her mother. All that changed, however, when a shiny convertible drew to a close in front of her old home. Her mother had chosen someone for her -- someone named Alfonso.

At first, she'd brush him off and irritate him so that he'd leave her alone. Unfortunately, he was one of the persistent types and as days passed and the number of efforts he had wasted increased, it came as to no surprise to everyone when he finally captured her heart. They have been together for three years. Maria knew quite well that he would be proposing to her that day.

But why was she constantly bothered by the thought that he was coming for her and her alone? Did it concern the fact that she was the only one inside her home right now?

The sound of tires screeching interrupted her thoughts. Maria bolted to the window to see Alfonso climb out of his car and walk to the front porch. A smile pulling onto her face, Maria hurried downstairs to welcome him with a warm embrace.

Upon reaching the door, she unhinged the lock and swung it open, grinning widely at her lover. "I'm so glad you came, my dear."

Alfonso said nothing and bolted inside rather angrily. There were cuts everywhere on his neck, and it was highly evident they were new. Maria swallowed hard and walked closer to her lover just to pull his coat off. Her cold hands fell on his shoulders shakily. For a moment, he didn't react.

"I... Do you want something to drink, love?" She asked, her voice reverberating the fear she had felt. "It's a long way from the city. You must be tired."

"You filthy little tramp," Alfonso finally stated, firmly. His voice was hoarse but there was grave seriousness behind it. "You were with him the other day..."

Maria froze. "With who...?"

"Don't play coy with me, Maria,"  Alfonso stood up and grabbed the girl by her hair. "You were with Andre... Weren't you?"

Andre was Alfonso's best friend who, despite his family's shortcomings, managed to maintain his reputation as a young and vigilant man with a great potential. He studied quite hard and is now a doctor at a certain hospital in the city. Back when he was a student, he had become Maria's first suitor but the girl's mother swept him out of their house the day he introduced himself properly . They met again yesterday and Andre, being a gentleman, treated her to a descent lunch at a french restaurant. Apparently, Alfonso had caught site of them.

"You don't understand, Alfonso... He was just being nice."

"Nice enough to explain how well you could kiss him," Alfonso said, pulling her across the room and into the kitchen.

"I didn't kiss him. There was nothing going on between him and me," Maria said, ignoring the pain caused by Alfonso's firm grasp. Her long, dark hair was winding around his fingers. If he wanted to untangle the strands, he'd have to pull his hand back and rip her hair out of her scalp.

Alfonso paid no heed to her whimpers and dragged her towards the sink. He grabbed a cork and sealed the drain before turning the faucet on. Water filled the sink so slowly, as if to give Maria some time... The girl, despite her attempts to remain positive, knew what was coming.

"I needn't your excuses, Maria. My best friend doesn't lie," he said before forcing her head into the sink. For seconds he waited, then he pulled her out. Maria threw a fit of violent coughs. It wasn't long before he pushed her back inside. Just before Maria ran out of air, he dragged her away from the sink. He yanked at her hair as he ascended the steps. In no time, they were in a bathroom, facing a huge mirror.

"You want to know what it feels like when a person you love is deceiving you?" He said, letting go of her hair. Strands fell to the floor. Maria now had a visible bald spot on the left side of her head. She began to cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." She choked.

"I don't need your apologies," he said before grabbing her hair once more and smashing her face against the mirror. Once. Twice. Thrice. Maria cried for help but that only infuriated him more. He rammed her head against the glass, and he became increasingly violent with every hit. Shards fell to the floor and Maria's beautiful face became heavily deformed. The sight of her bleeding before him was less than enough to keep him satisfied. He picked up a shard and stabbed her in her left eye... Deeper and deeper until a part of her eyeball fell off...

Contented, he dropped Maria and stared at her motionless body. Guilt finally swept over him. He began to cry.

Depressed and mad with anguish, he descended the stairs with her corpse in tow and laid her on a couch facing another huge mirror. He sat beside her and began stroking her hair lovingly. "You're still beautiful, my love."

He took out a silver ring from his shirt pocket, tears staining his eyes. Gently, he grasped her hand and slipped the object on her middle finger. "At least you're mine now."

The Masochist

I sat resignedly at the farthest corner of my room while waiting for someone to come save me from the darkness that had, on a bitter twist of fate, encompassed me and my temperamental thoughts. I was forced to refrain from listening to my usually-silent conscience which was corrupted with memories of disdain. I was... crazy... drowned in fits of hardships and lost liberty... There was no way I could escape.

I stared into the wide distance between my current position and the door -- the only way out of this cellar and the one entrance to a new world.  But the world was a scary place... a scary place indeed. Had it not been so frightening then I wouldn't be curled up in this personal space of mine. The yellowish light beneath the door had my attention for a moment because of the black circles moving back and forth against it. I gazed at the light blankly, waiting for the owner of that shadow to march inside and offer me his or her hand so that I could finally leave this place.

Then the door finally opened, and they came in one by one; the people in white coats. I tried to move backwards but I couldn't considering that I had myself huddled in that little corner. One person was holding a syringe, and although I couldn't make out his or her face, I could see the syringe holding in a reddish liquid of some sort. I knew right away that it wasn't medicine...

"Stay still," the person -- whom I now realized was a "she"-- commanded as her hand wrapped around my left wrist. I immediately tried to pry myself away from her hold, but another assistant took me by surprise and held me down by my shoulders. I couldn't move.

The lady lowered the syringe so that the needle touched my porcelain skin. The object gleamed against the light, and I couldn't look away as the liquid was injected into me intravenously. I started getting dizzy... then drowsy... The last thing I felt before blacking out was a pair of lithe arms carrying me out of the door... away from my small sanctuary...
--
The crew all watched their guinea pig as a lady set her down in a small bath tub filled to the brim with needles inside an observation room and left her there to wake up. Moments later, her wide cerulean eyes blinked open ever so slowly, basking themselves in the white light. Some of the needles had managed to tear through her clothes pierce her skin but she didn't react. In fact, she smiled as if she couldn't feel the pain. And so they decided to challenge her more...

They helped her out of the tub-- her feet sinking deep into the bed of needles -- and wheeled her into a small ward.

There, they strapped her to her bed with a pair of black, leather buckles. One stretched across her torso while the other stretched across her feet. They were surprised when she didn't struggle. They fell silent for a moment, wondering why she's being submissive when she'd always show signs of resistance in their previous experiments.

The sudden quietness was broken when a short, stubby man burst into the room, carrying a box filled with so-called utensils -- knives of all kinds, screw drivers of all shapes, blades of all sizes, and a scalpel.

She smiled again upon seeing these instruments. Her face was paling, but her widening grin said otherwise.  The short man walked to her side and pointed a screwdriver to her eyes to test her and was rather appalled when she didn't blink. He gave her a warning smirk and stalked away from the ward so that the rest could go on with their work.

The bed's white sheet was already painted with droplets of blood due to the needles earlier, but none of them paid heed to the stains. They fixed their attention on the girl, still waiting for her to show at least a brief signal of hesitation, but she gave none.

A female finally stepped forward with as much courage as she needed and said, "Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

Her listener didn't speak, and she passed this off as an approval. She carefully picked up the scalpel and pointed it at the girl's right knee. From there, she lifted up the hem of the girl's dress folded it so that it reached mid-thigh because it was currently in the way of her work. She pressed the scalpel on the girl's tender skin and slowly began cutting diagonally. She lifted the excess skin and began to cut deeper, digging into the girl's insides until a bone was visible.

"Feel anything?" she asked. The response was a shake of the head.

The female pulled back and allowed her friend to take over. This one was a male who looked a lot braver than her. He took a screw driver and began boring a hole into the visible bone. The girl winced a bit but chuckled in the end, saying "Don't mind me... It doesn't hurt a bit..."

The others gave her a look of disgust as they watched their accomplice's next move. He took a hand-sized blade and began to cut vertically and skinned her off so that the bones of her lower foot were revealed.  He cut off the lower buckle since it was only obstructing him before he proceeded in shaving away the visible nerves and tissues till there was nothing left but the white matter he was looking for. The girl still gave off no sign of pain or hurt.

Another female, a brunette, couldn't take what was going on and pushed through two of her co-crew members while shouting, "Stop it! This is going way too far, Vince! Nobody asked you to peel her from inside-out!"

"I'm just doing what my mind tells me... Besides, the boss told us to test how much pain the drug would kill," The man, Vince, retorted matter-of-factly. "So stand back and watch."

He took out a butcher's knife and began chopping her left foot into seven, equal parts. Then he waited for the girl's response. "Well?"

"I don't... feel anything," she said, trying to press back a sob. "Why can't I feel anything?!"

"It's the drug, hon... It's helping you ease the pain," The brunette explained, caressing the girl's cheek while clutching a knife in her hand.

"Please... I just want to feel the pain... so that everything would be over," The girl stated, forcing tears to come out of her eyes. "I want to die... I want to die... I want to--"

The brunette didn't let the helpless girl speak further. Instead, she raised the knife and began stabbing the girl at random places -- on her head, her throat, her stomach... her hands. Soon after that, the girl finally felt a surge of pain from her upper body and began coughing out blood... "It hurts... Make it stop..."

She continued coughing until she finally forced out her still-beating heart. The others watched as she cupped the object -- the only thing that truly belonged to her -- and ran her fingers over it before laying back down, her dull eyes staring blankly into the white light above her.

Contrast...

Picture an empty street filled to the brim with silent corpses and contaminated with the smell of fresh blood. Imagine yourself walking in a steady pace in the aforementioned place, looking for another fortunate survivor. Clueless, covered in  bruises and lost in desperation, you decide to look at a wide array of posters on the shop windows to hopefully ease yourself of all the torment. What you see before you, however, gives you a severe shock...

A day care center's vision: We see naughty children
A butchery's advertisement: Also available: HUMAN MEAT!
A school's mission: To Promote Cannibalism

A laundry shop's witty name: Wash and get hanged

A hospital's slogan: Pay or Die

What a beautiful place, indeed.

The Message

Dear stranger,

This may come as a surprise to you, but once you've started reading this letter, you are not permitted to stop. To make your situation less enigmatic, please be sure that you are the only one within the area who has chanced upon this message. You must now bear with the fact that what you have in front of you is a string of confidential information.

As the case may be, you are also not allowed to spread the information contained in this message unless you've abided by the rules and read its contents on your own.

On June 21, 1981, a hospital which was rumored to be erected on a place near your vicinity was burnt to the ground. Unfortunately, this "hospital" had been a host to over ninety patients, all of which have been announced dead after the said event. To make matters worse, the incident was claimed to be the product of a mysterious accident, when in fact, everything happened on purpose.

Most of the patients' bodies where decapitated, indicating that somebody had broken into the hospital. Other investigators had assumed that an employee of the hospital had caused the tragedy. We promised to give the public an alternative news about what happened since the case was far too disturbing.

Sorry if this is too much for you to take, but please acknowledge that the suspect is still on the loose.
Pass this message on or your ignorance would lead to great consequences.

Patient of Room 31.

Introduction

WELCOME...

This blog may be as random as you think it is, but in one way or another, it is still unique.

Friday the 13th is a collection of ghost stories, movie reviews, book reviews and true paranormal accounts from witnesses. Each one of the labels listed above are written and updated weekly or monthly by an amateur blogger named Rialey.

Hope you'd have a splendid time visiting this blog. Don't forget to watch your back.