Tag Archives: monster

Super Short Stories – Under My Bed


When I was six I was all but certain a monster lived under my bed.
Now that I’ve grown into an adult, I still am.

Super Short Stories – Mr. Whiskers


The mewing coming from beneath my bed sounded vaguely like Mr. Whiskers. I probably would have mistaken it as such if Mr. Whiskers hadn’t been busy wrapping himself in my legs and purring at the time.

Storybook Corner: Walking in the Desert

002The scorched earth beneath his worn out boots made him long for the past—when he was still a boy, before life got its grimy hands on him. He hated the desert, and it hated him right back. He and the desert had never gotten along well, but he’d gone too far to turn back. He’d done too many things to too many people to even think about going back—bad things, unspeakable things.

He was a flesh and blood monster, not the kind that kids think live under their beds. Something worse. Something far worse. But he was tired of it. He didn’t want to be that thing anymore. That’s why he and the desert had gotten reacquainted after so many years apart. That’s why he’d left his car on the side of the highway and entered a hell that had almost taken his life the last time he’d been there.

This time, he planned to make sure it finished the job.

Storybook Corner – July

There used to be a building around this chimney, but it's long gone. The chimney is all that's left.

Tommy walked toward the stone chimney with his back to the others. “They say a witch used to live here. She used to burn up kids in this fireplace. ”

“Baloney! You’re making that up,” Richie said as he took a step backward.

“No, I’m not. Dylan told me all about it.”

Kevin moved with Tommy toward where a building once stood.

Tommy walked around the chimney, one hand gliding across the time worn stones as he went. The smooth texture under his fingers reminded him of the rocks in the creek behind his uncle’s house. Kevin picked up a small rock and threw it in the air. It bounced off the chimney and landed in the grass to Tommy’s left.

“Geez, man! Watch it!”

“Sorry.” Kevin shrugged. “I almost got it in the top though.”

Tommy looked up and laughed. “Never going to happen. You never could aim worth crap. Chicken shit over there’ll get one in there before you do.”

He looked over his shoulder at his little brother. Richie didn’t seem to notice that he’d been called a name. Kevin knelt and picked up another rock. He tossed it to Tommy then snagged one more for himself, but paused when a rustling in the bushes behind the fireplace caught his attention. Tommy backed away from the bushes and nearly tripped over Kevin.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s get out of here,” Richie said, still a good distance away–a safe distance away.

Tommy stared at the bushes as they shook again. He took a step backward. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Do you smell that?” Kevin said, still hunched over with the rock in his hand.

Tommy stopped and sniffed the air. “Smoke?”

Kevin nodded, but Tommy didn’t see it. He was too busy staring at the bushes. Tommy backed up to join Richie, leaving Kevin kneeling before the fireplace. An old woman pushed through the bushes and brushed a few stray leaves from her haggard clothes.

“What have we here?” she said. Her eyes–one of them blue, the other green–studied the boy with the rock in his hand.

“Run!” Richie screamed. “It’s the witch!”

Kevin dropped the rock and bolted toward him. He pushed between Tommy and Richie and disappeared into the trees. Richie wasn’t far behind. Tommy didn’t move. He old stared at the woman–almost laughed.

“You’re not a witch,” he said.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.” She moved slowly toward the boy. Her long, patchwork skirt swayed as she walked.

“If you’re a witch, then I’m an astronaut.”

She stopped and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “There are things in this world that are far worse than witches, dear boy.” She licked her lips. “I’m even worse than those.”

She tipped her head back and her mouth opened wide–unnaturally wide. Tommy tried to back away, but the woman’s arms were around his waist. He smashed the small rock in his hand against the side of her head. A small trickle of crimson danced down the woman’s cheek, but her grip only tightened.


This story was written for Storybook Corner. I went a dozen or so words over the limit with this one, but I can live with that. Be sure to go read the other stories!

The Eloko of Zaire

An extraordinarily evil race of beings dwells in the deepest, darkest part of the rain forests in central Zaire. The eloko is a dwarf-like creature with a short temper, a penchant for violence, and a taste for human flesh–especially that of the female variety. It is said that these creatures (the plural of eloko is biloko by the way) are said to be the spirits of the ancestors of the people who live there. Apparently they harbor some sort of grudge against the living and are known to be a rather vicious, unforgiving lot.

Deep within the heavy trees they guard their treasures–rare fruits and the game of the forest–from all who dare trespass.

They aren’t much in the looks department. These odd little fellows have a tendency to grow grass instead of hair and have a snout like a crocodile, said to be able to open wide enough to swallow a human. As if that weren’t bad enough, add piercing eyes and sharp claws to the mix and you’ve got yourself an Eloko.

On a related note: if you happen to find yourself in a Central African forest and hear a bell, just turn the other way and run. Don’t look back. Don’t wait around to see what’s making the odd ringing where there shouldn’t be any. Biloko are said to possess little bells that can cast spells on passers-by. You don’t want that. Trust me.

Also, just to reiterate, if you are a female, you might want to consider not venturing into the forest at all. I did mention they prefer the taste of female flesh over that of males, didn’t I? Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you find yourself on a Eloko’s menu some day.