Tag: horror

That Kind of Girl

That mouth hanging open

-dripping

like a soiled dish rag–

1076065_9640728_b

–she is porn

–she is titilation

she is the repulsion that

comes afterward

with green fingernails and wet, dying eyes.

Sweet, cherry nipples

stuck on Tender breasts

9884835_7146872_lz

She’s here

for you

sweaty–

greasy–

limp with filth.

  salty fingers on her tongue

she wakes

alive again but at the bottom

–where hell is

744517_12350763_b

defile her-

Life says its safe to make her stink

to make her cry

She’s made for this.

On a good day

she feels numb

cause

She knows how

To be

A thing with no center

There, but not really.

a rusty red husk

drying

in a shadow

by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Keith P. Rein & Cassidy Rae Limbach

The Nerd Guru: Zombies & Primal Instincts Blurb

180848_165644843483825_8372073_n

Zombie Fiction is escapism that allows someone to become something more primal. Ironically though, I am not speaking of the zombies. It creates an environment of peril where murder is not only condoned, it is necessary. You are allowed to release your primal nature upon your fellow species without fear of moral or ethical judgement. Essentially, you are allowing the casual bystander to be a killing machine. No longer are they restrained by their sedentary lifestyles, now they are free to become survivors because, deep down, everyone thinks they can be badass if given the opportunity.


– Mitch

End of “Hypochondraway” Story

ENDING OF “HYPOCHONDRAWAY”

Lizzie gawked in horror as bloody tears wandered down my face.

” Oh my! Don’t worry, mam. You are just having an abnormal reaction to the- -oh dear.”

Her eyebrows crinkled as she tried to resist a frown. Her broken wincing face got smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see it at all anymore. I could feel my body losing itself, becoming more and more empty every minute, with every intense suck of the machine. All that blackness was seeping out forming small puddles of me on the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. Into the cracks between the tiles. Lizzie’s voice swooped in: “I can’t! I can’t! Everything is leaking out! It’s everywhere, she’s everywhere!”.

I fell back and stared at the snowy white ceiling. “You’ll soon be forgotten”,it said brightly.

by Angie Hoover- Hillhouse

Opening to “Hypochondraway”

There is a bloody rot in this place. It breathes beneath the floors. It lurks in the shadowy vents stalking the weak- hunting for meat until all the sick are swallowed whole. The thick smell of it made my vision go grey.

I’d been here as a child when it was a normal crumpled hospital for normal crumpled cirhossis patients and gangrenous feet. Thoughts of cancer crept into my ear, reminding me that there are poisons in this world that I can taste as clearly as the salt that rides on an ocean breeze.  I wasn’t completely cured yet. Dark, unpleasant thoughts often swelled up in my head leaving no room for cupcake recipes or oven cleaning tips. Today’s Hypochondraway treatment would fix all that though. From now on, ALL my daydreams would be happy and light like lemon meringue.

Excerpt from unfinished science fiction story titled “Hypochondraway” 

 The concept of this fragment is inspired by  a  series of psychosomatic fainting spells I had. The imagery, which I will expand on in later posts,  is taken from a dream I often have where I am sitting in the waiting room of a hospital in the early 1970s. Everything is yellow, linoleum, and humming with the sound of indifferent machinery.

by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse