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Category Archives: Humour

Noodles of Doom

“Go on, do it again!”
    There was another burst of drunken laughter as Marion waved the feather duster dramatically. “O Lord of darkness, with this feather duster of doom I do summon thee,” she cried. “See how the noodles of evil dance in thy honour!” She had to stop at this point as she was overcome with hysterical giggling.
    Dan hauled himself to his feet and positioned himself opposite his drinking companion. “Halt, thou worshipper of all things evil!” he shouted. “With this… Biro…” Another burst of laughter “…I will drive thee back into the pits of Hades were thou belongest!”
    “Stop it!” exclaimed Linda. “I’m nearly wetting myself here.” The two performers slumped back onto their chairs as yet more vodka was poured out. Outside the run-down barn the wind whistled mournfully threw the cracks and knotholes. “Core, listennesat,” Martin slurred. “Sas proper Hallween weather thassis.” There was more drunken sniggering. “You think Dracula’ll turn up?” somebody asked. “Nah, got done in, dinnee,” somebody else answered. “Yeah, but whabou ghos,” said Martin. “They’re sposebe all active ‘n stuff at Hallween.” 
    Pulling himself to his feet, he raised his arms and began lurching drunkenly around the barn making woo woo noises. This prompted another fit of laughter from his companions. “See! The evil one walks among us!” yelled Marion, jumping to her feet and brandishing the feather duster and plastic cup of instant noodles once more. “Speak, oh evilest of evil ones and let us know thy wish!” “My wish… my wish is…” began Martin.”Another drink!”
    Everyone cheered and several people downed the remainder of theirs in one to join him. There was a brief silence as drinks were swigged and crisps were munched on. Finally someone asked: “But seriously, is there such a thing’s ghosts?” there was a chorus of ‘nah’ and ‘don’t be stupid’. “If there was then something’d have turned up by now,” commented Marion. “I mean, we summoned it, didn’t we?” Dan snorted.
    “Yeah right, with the feather duster of doom and the noodles of evil.”
    “And bloody good noodles they were too,” said Martin and let out a colossal belch.

“Hey, is it me or is it getting colder in here?” somebody asked at length. In the group’s current state, this should have prompted a comment along the lines of ‘you need another drink to warm you up.’ But everyone felt the change in temperature now. At the same moment a cloud drifted across the moon, blocking its silvery rays which up til then had been lighting the barn through a skylight.
    The shadows suddenly seemed much darker and somehow threatening. “Come on, it’s just a cloud blocking the moonlight,” said Dan, trying to sound nonchalant. There was a soft creaking from somewhere near the door and then several people screamed.
    In the middle of the ever deepening, ever lengthening shadows two glowing red eyes had appeared. Slowly the shadows massed together around these eyes into a huge, hulking, impenetrable darkness that flowed towards the terrified drinkers, engulfing them. The shrieks of fear turned to screams of agony, then choked gurgling and finally silence.
    Slowly the dark mass retreated back to the corner where it had originated. As it did so the glowing eyes travelled malevolently over the scene in the now silent barn. All that was left of the drunken merrymaking were cooling puddles of melted glass and piles of bleached bones. Before fading into the night, the eyes lingered for a moment on the two items that seemed out of place in the horrendous scene. A half melted plastic cup, out of which protruded a noodle, and a single, slightly scorched feather.

***
Prompt: write a horror scene (or something horrific) using a wet noodle, a styrofoam cup and a feather.

Copyright © Rainbow

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Posted by on Sunday 14 June 2015 in Flash fiction, Horror, Humour

 

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A Tale of Three Heroes: Chapter Two

Note: this is a first draft. The only editting done is for typos/spelling errors.
***

 

 

Breakfast in the royal castle was usually a peaceful affair. The prince and princess, both being teenagers, rarely put in an appearance before eleven, which meant it was just king Henry and his wife. Henry spent the meal buried in the morning post, whil Merlina was content to enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.
    This morning however, she was shaken out of her revery as the king suddenly choked on his coffee, sending a good amount of it spraying across the table.
    “I don’t believe it! Is there nothing the buggers won’t stoop to?”
    Merlina sighed.
    “What have they done this time?”
    “They’ve only gone and burnt down an entire neighbourhood,” said Henry, wiping coffee off the remaining letters. “Well, when they were caught they said they’d only meant to torch the one house, but it got out of hand. As if that makes it all right.” He glared at the offending parchment. “Did they say why they’ve started burning down property?” Merlina asked.
    “Unsurprisingly, no. But I’d bet anything it was meant to look like an accident. It was one of those neighbourhoods tagged for ‘development’. You know the story. Whoops, there goes your home, what a shame. You may as well sell up now.”
    He gave the leter one final glower before tossing it onto the ‘read’ pile.
    “Those heroes had better get here soon.”

 

“Come on, the coach driver won’t hang around forever.”
    “Coming, coming. Just looking for my crossbow bolts.”
    LD sighed impatiently. It was always the same. Every single mission started with Angel searching frantically for one last essential supply. If it wasn’t weaponry, then her food for the journey went walk about. On one memorable occasion she had even managed to mislay her entire uniform, boots, cape and all.
    The sound of hooves made her turn back to the road again, where the coach was just setting off, with Tommy running desperately after it. At the same moment a cry of “got it!” from inside the house announced that the missing bolts had surfaced. “Come on,” urged LD again. Angel slung her knapsack on her back, slammed the door and stuffed the keys into their hiding place, before sprinting after LD towards the disappearing coach.
    From the bushes a figure watched the two girls racing down the road. He shrugged. It beat him what they were so scared about. They seemed like a bunch of hopeless amateurs to him. The one who lived here hadn’t even grasped basic security. Anyone who had spotted her ‘hiding’ the keys only had to stroll up and fish them out.
    Which is exactly what he intended doing. After all, it was much easier than breaking in. He stood up and checked one last time that he had all the boobie traps. Even if they were lucky enough to succeed, he’d make sure that this one at least would not do so again. Pausing only to make sure the coast was clear, the intruder made his way over to the garden gnome where the keys had been so clumsily hidden and reached down.
    Birds flew up in panic as a gigantic explosion rent the air. Slowly, the smoke cleared, leaving nothing but a crater and, presumably, and aweful lot of paperwork for someone. Looking stupid is not always the same as being stupid.

 

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Posted by on Tuesday 2 June 2015 in Fantasy, First Draft, Humour, Novel length

 

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CAUGHT Out

It is a dark and stormy night… Hang on, didn’t someone already use that to start a novel or something…? Well anyhow, it’s dark and it’s stormy and it’s night… you get the picture. As I sit here typing this out, forks of lightning light up the sky outside… Blast, this isn’t going the way I’d hoped.
    Right, forget the dramatics. I don’t know why I bothered trying. My story’s hardly horror movie material. At least not from my point of view, anyway. Though most people would disagree, I guess.
This rambling isn’t getting me anywhere, so I’ll start at the beginning. When things started to go bad.

I moved here, oh, I don’t know how many years ago. And for the first couple of decades everything was hunky dory. There were always the odd mortals who’d notice my ‘unusual’ habits, but on the whole I was more or less accepted as an eccentric millionaire or something along those lines.
    I was always careful never to cause disturbance, and I never ever let people see me in my… other forms. I kept out of their way, they kept out of mine. This arrangement worked fine. Until a couple of days ago, that is…

****

“Hey!”
    Startled, I look up into the beam of a torch. I cover my eyes against the blinding light, trying to see the holder beyond. “And what do you think your doing?” a loud, gruff voice demands.
    “I… um… I…”
    “Thinking you could just sneak in and steal everything’ in sight did you?”
    “No! I…”
    “Yeah yeah. You can give your lame excuses to the police. I bet… Oh my God!”
    The owner of the voice suddenly drops the torch. He stares at me in horror, before turning and running at full speed back to the house. I don’t understand. What did I do? I’m not in the wrong form; I’m always very careful about that when venturing anywhere near inhabited areas.
    Then I look down… and see the blood. It’s gone all over the place. No wonder he reacted that way. Crap! I’d better get out of here. He’s bound to be back before long with reinforcements. Then there’ll be no point trying to explain…

****

And here I am. Without anywhere to go or anybody to turn to. I tried sneaking off; that nearly got me lynched. Yes, I suppose it was inevitable and all that. And yes, I should have been more careful. But it’s not as if I murdered anybody. What is one cow more or less? It was either that or break the habit of half a lifetime. And it’s hardly my fault there were no other creatures around that night.
    Hang on… What’s that noise outside? Yep, just as I thought. They’re coming. Who’d have thought that even in this day and age people can still be so superstitious. Ah well. My own fault for choosing this place. If I’d lived somewhere else I might simply have been banged up in a secure unit from which I could easily have escaped and moved somewhere else.
    Wonder what would have happened if I’d gone for one of them instead of one of their livestock. Maybe I’d have had time to scarper while the police were investigating. I expect a desiccated corpse with puncture wounds in the neck isn’t something the average copper comes across very often. But then again, the penny would have dropped sooner or later I expect.

I’m going to miss the old place. Even the horrible old full-length mirror. Could never stand mirrors. That’s the one… difference I can’t hide. I only kept it so as not to look too odd to the outside world. Ironic, really; that it was the most easily hidden difference that got me caught in the end.
    They’re on the stairs now. I guess this is it. Now or never and all that. It wouldn’t be breaking my vow, that was only about feeding, after all. And it’s the only way to have any chance of a new start.
    Right, where are those matches…

****

“Where’s he gone!?”
    “How should I know! Maybe he’s hiding somewhere.”
    The mob is so worked up that nobody notices the faint smell of petrol wafting up from the floor below. And by the time it dawns on them that something is wrong, it’s already too late…

As the flames leap into the night sky, a lone bat flies low over the tree tops.

***
Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Thursday 28 May 2015 in Fantasy, Flash fiction, Horror, Humour

 

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A Tale of Three Heroes: Chapter One

Note: this is a first draft. The only editing done is for typos/spelling errors.
***

 

 

The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky. In the fields and hedges nothing stirred. Even the liveliest woodland critter had succumbed to the heat.
The silence was broken by heavy footsteps and the tinkling of chains. Round a bend in the road came what at first glance appeared to be an occult jewellery display on legs. Closer inspection however revealed a slim dark haired girl dressed from head to toe in black. At least, what was visible under the silver had definite midnight tones. Alongside her gambled a large grey wolf. Occasionally it would pause, sniff hopefully at the bushes, then continue on, seemingly disappointed. “I’m afraid it’s too hot for happy little bunny rabbits to be hopping around for you to chase,” said the dark figure, who was evidently the animals owner. “I’m sure Angel will let you have a nice run around in her garden. Plenty of things to chase up trees there.”

 

Not a leaf stirred as LD strolled under the arch into Angel’s neighbourhood and up the drive to the first house. She hoped her friend would be awake. Still, it was after noon and even Angel had been known to rise early if it was hot enough.
She gave the knocker a few good thumps. She barely had time to step back before the door opened and something wet and gloopy was flung at her.
“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet your best friend.”
“What?”
Angel blinked. Then recognition dawned.
“Ah. Er… Sorry… I thought it was someone else,” she said sheepishly. “Hang on a sec.” She turned and routed around on a table just behind her, producing a role of parchment which she held up for LD to read.
“Blimey! Are they allowed to do that?”
Angel shrugged.
“According to them. Anyway, this says someone would be coming round to ‘discuss’ the matter with me, so when I heard the knocking I sort of assumed it was them.” “And you thought you’d open negociations by throwing the remains of your breakfast over them?” inquired LD. Angel gave her a look.
“Who said anything about negociating? Nobody’s building any road over my back garden.”
“Well it’s not actually the entire garden.”
Angel glared.
“That’s not the point. It’s still mine. And I like it.”
LD glanced over her shoulder.
“I think that’s them coming now. I’ll just nip out the back and clean up in the pond and um… leave you to it.”

 

She left Angel looking round for a suitable porridge substitute with which to surprise the visitor and ambled through the kitchen into the garden, Sheena following eagerly. A frog gave her a curious stare as she slid into the water, before hopping off to do whatever it was frogs did in their spare time. Voices drifted to her from the open windows. Well, so far so good, there was no shouting yet, at least.
LD could see why her friend was rather severely miffed at the thought of possibly losing all this. Angel was a great believer in leaving nature to do it’s thing, and here at least, that seemed to have worked marvelously. Around her frogs went lazily about their froggy business. On the opposite side of the pond, a row of ducks lay stretched out, heads under their wings, contentedly sunbathing. Flowers grew randomly and chaoticly around the endge of the lawn. The whole thing gave you the feeling of being in some forest glade somewhere. LD half expected a deer to come wandering out of the bushes.
The tranquility was shattered by the sound of smashing glasswear from the house, followed by a stream of amazingly colourful language. LD whistled. She hadn’t heard Angel use those words in a long while. “Should we…” she began uncertainly. Sheena whined, got up and made her way round to the far side of the pond where she cowered behind a bush. “Probably best to let them sort it out themselves,” LD agreed.

 

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Posted by on Tuesday 26 May 2015 in Fantasy, First Draft, Humour, Novel length

 

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