All Things Go Bump In The Night

Writer's Block

Something, just something. I need to write something and my writer's block was getting to me. The people...  They were waiting. I need something to write.  Something to wow them.

But what? I need to think hard. This one would leave them in complete awe, as if they were actually in the protagonist shoes. They would feel the atmosphere, taste the tranquillity. It would have to be absolutely perfect this one.

It would have to be descriptive. You can't relive something if you don't know how it looks like. It would have to have an intriguing plot. One that readers would sink into and want more and more of. But what? What would be so amazing. So critical. Such a hit that the critics for generations would praise it.

Maybe I could find the setting. It had to be some where magical. So majestic that just by reading its description, the reader would be teleported there.

But where? Where could such a mysterious yet spectacular place be. "Damn it!" I thought out loud.

I need this one to work out perfectly. But I hadn't even figured out the genre in this one. Comedy? Science-Fiction?  Romance?  Drama? Mystery? Action?  Thriller? 

Then it hit me. Horror.

Yes, yes of course! How come I never thought of this earlier! Nothing brought in a reader more than fear. It would be perfect, absolutely perfect. I could feel how big a hit this one would be.

But what would I write about.  I had never written a horror piece before. Was it even a good idea to delve into a new genre for my master piece.

Why of course it was! I couldn't give the readers the same boring material over and over again. No, no, no I couldn't...  No I mustn't do that. This book needed to be good. Something that ever human being on the planet should have, no would have.

I just need inspiration. A smile crept onto my face. Yes... Inspiration. I crawl over the mountains of previous work I had failed to do. Stacks of paper as high as the ceiling came tumbling down as I hurriedly run out of my make-shift basement.

I get upstairs and grab my black trench coat and fedora before making my way outside. I check my watch only too see it was about 2:30am. The perfect time.

I walk outside my home. I lived in the country, thank God I had moved from the city. Thank God my wife was gone too. I didn't need her, she was only a distraction.

I walk down the street till I get to the spot where that girl was always hitch-hiking. I know that she is there. I walk carefully in the shadows, the darkness perfectly blending my figure.

I stop. Dammit I had forgotten to bring a weapon. Well there was no turning back. Picking up a handful of pebbles, I throw them carefully next to her.

She turns to look at where the sound had come from. A dumb move, but it gives me the perfect time to strike. I pick up a stone off the side of the road and in one swift movement, I slam the rock onto her head and she falls to the ground with a thud. She's completely out.

Now for the location. I think maybe that I could carry her on my back all the way there but I would get too much fingerprints on her body.

I decide to drag her by her feet to a nearby barn. Nobody went there anymore.  It's a long and lengthy process, but one I was willingly to take.

As long as everything was perfect.

I finally drag her all the way to the barn and leave her body on the floor. I know that the owner of the barn had a tool box that I could use.

Inside I find some duct tape. Perfect. It's all I needed, well almost, everything I needed. After tying her hands together, I tie her feet and gag her, then I walk around the barn, searching for anything, ANYTHING I can use. But I find nothing. I search the inside again but there was nothing. I can't use anything in the tool box.... It would be too messy.

I stumble around outside unprofessionally when something catches my eye. A tree stump laying far off in the distance. I run towards it. Yes, yes I'll be able to find something here.

I get there but there's no axe. No, there's just a sickle. Even better! I grab the handy weapon and make my way back to the barn.

It wasn't until 4:49 am till she woke up. I honestly was beginning to think that I should just do it in her sleep but I had to be patient. Yes.... Patient. And I am, and I am rewarded with her awakening.

Immediately she starts to scream. Her screams are muffled though, I made sure of it. I look at her, making sure to look at her eyes. I need to get every single detail, all the fear in them.

I whip out my phone and take a picture of her eyes to capture the moment forever. Then I get to work.

I prop up my phone on the shelf and set it to record.

Now it's time to start.

Working carefully I begin to carve into my victims chest. Her muffled screams increase and get louder as I cut deeper. Finally some blood gushes on my face and remark on how warm it felt. Usually I was quite squeamish, but for my book, I could and would do anything.

I finally have made the wound in her chest big enough to fit my hand in. Reaching my hand in her chest, my victim screams and stops moving, presumably dead, but I didn't stop.

I grab her heart and carve it out carefully so that I still have the full shape in my hand. I was so precise and it was only my first time. I'm so proud of myself. I place my handkerchief on the ground and place her heart on it. Next, I grab the tool box and search in it for a needle and thread.

There's none there, oh well. I'll just have to use the super glue I found. The super glue holds the loose skin together surprisingly.

Afterwards I cut away the duct tape from her hands and place her heart in her hands. I look at her corpse. Not convinced that it would stay I use the rest of the super glue to ensure that it stays in place. I take another look at her.

Maybe I should of made it last longer. Then I would have more material to work with. No, I have done it. I have created an inspiration for myself. I have to finish though.

I stop my phone from recording and use the sickle to cut away the tape from her feet. I drag her by her hands this time to a nearby river. I place her in it. I look at her. Just as the current is about to take her away I grab her foot.

I take a daisy that is growing nearby and place it between her cold lips. I let go of her foot and send her off, making sure to take a picture of her body as she drifted away.

As I poured gasoline on the barn I thought about my masterpiece. The excitement and nervousness of a predator stalking its prey. The thrill of draining another human being's life force. And the absolute sense of power, knowing that someone's life is laying in your hands.

How amazing it felt to be God over someone's life.

And only I could bring these emotions to life through words. I drop my lighter on the barn floor and run out as the place bursts into flames. I stumble through my door, practically drunk from the high I was feeling.

I run to the basement and sit down at my office. Giggling like a little school girl I set up my phone and begin to play my video. Perfect, and the memory is still fresh in mind.

I finally begin to relax and unwind. I've done it. I've finally found my inspiration. I listen to the screams of my victim as I begin to write my masterpiece.

This one was inspired by my small case of writer's block. I'm not a murderer do not worry. This story isn't meant to encourage people to commit murder. It's not fun and you'll go to jail. Just don't do it. Sorry for the PSA just don't wanna be responsible if anyone does decide to do something crazy.