Horror

RAAAAAAAWR! Did I scare you? Somehow I suspect not. Nonetheless: As I write, ’tis Halloween season and this being an area in which to stretch my skills, I shall stretch them in a way I do not often lean: Horror. (In case you hadn’t guessed from the title.)

The Scream by Edvard Munch, from https://www.edvardmunch.org/the-scream.jsp

I don’t often write horror. I don’t often read horror, either, honestly. It has a tendency to stick to my mind in a way I find uncomfortable. It’s a taste thing. And the going advice is “don’t write in an area you don’t read.” This is very sound advice because a) you don’t know what tropes are overused and b) you don’t have any idea what will appeal to the market.

Or rather, this is very sound advice if you’re trying to send that writing to an audience. And despite the fact that I am writing this to send it to you, my audience (except for those who choose to bail when the story starts (Hi Mom! 😉 ) ) (Is that enough parentheses? Have I given that winky face too many double chins?), I am not writing this to find an audience with it. I am writing it to stretch my writing chops and am sending it to you all to be accountable for writing.

I once heard horror and humor described as among the most viscerally reactive of writing; in each, you’re hoping to elicit an actual response in the reader, be that shudders and goose flesh or belly laughs and maybe tears of joy. (Or you could write something that you hope causes someone’s arm musculature to flex, bend, lift, and fling as they throw your book across the room for killing off their favorite character, that’s a visceral response.) And for eliciting that response, I think there are two main ways to go- squick and shiver. In other words, gore and guts or psychological horror.

Which do I prefer? Well, I can be more fine after watching gore than I can after watching a brain-twisting terrible thing. What does that say about me? That our culture desensitizes us to violence possibly, but we stray into a different topic. Now, that said, I do tend to avoid actively watching the gore. And while I do hurt my characters in my stories, sometimes pretty severely, I don’t tend to focus on the gore. I don’t like writing it or reading it. So we’re going to go for the (in my opinion) scarier of the two options, the shiver.

I’m taking inspiration for this one from the song “They’re Coming to Take Me Away” ha ha, ho ho, hee hee that came on my Halloween playlist. It’s a song that is easy to make jokes about but listening to it is rather troubling. Ha ha ho ho. So I’m taking tonal cues and here we go.

I’ll Miss You

Good morning. How are you feeling? Yeah, it’s normal to feel a little groggy after a night like you had. Light? No, I don’t think that’s going to be good for you yet. Headaches, you know.

You don’t remember last night? Oh, I’m hardly surprised. It started out pretty normally of course, like these things always do. We were talking about dinner again. You wanted to go to Le Etoile, again. Don’t take that tone with me, of course I like the food there. It’s excellent. But it has a price to go with it and every time I talk about it you tell me I’m being cheap. Every time. And then you… well, never mind. It doesn’t bother me any more. Water under the bridge.

Oh, of course, you’re thirsty. Should have thought of that. Let me get you something. No, trust me, I’ll get it for you. No, no, it’s not that, I just don’t think you’ll be able to manage it. Hm. Possibly I should go with a squeeze bottle, I don’t think you’ll be able to manage the water bottle either. Oh, of course you can try if you want, I just don’t think it’ll work and… yep, there, you got water all over yourself.

Calm down, calm down, I can dry it off. No, of course you can’t move well, not after surgery like you had. Yes, surgery. I’m getting there. Remember, we had dinner, then you said we should go for a walk down by the river. I suggested we go for a drive and look at the leaves since you know the smell makes me gag, not to mention the pavement is uneven and with my balance, well- But we did. You said it was romantic. You keep using that to refer to things you like without considering my likes or comfort. No, no, sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t let it bother me any more.

Yes, yes, I’m getting to the surgery. You feel different? So you’re coming more alert then. It’s hardly surprising. Oh of course, the blanket’s lying beside you. Go ahead. Yes, I thought you might need help. Fingers not responding as usual, are they? Feel too thick? Yes, yes, I’m coming to that. Here, have a blanket. That smell? Well, chemicals, I suppose. I thought I cleaned up, but then you’ve always bragged about your excellent sense of smell. I don’t imagine the surgery will change that all. Haha, no, I don’t imagine it will. I’ll turn the light on just a little then. Too bright? We’ll back off a bit then.

Anyway, where were we? By the river, of course. We were having another ar… energetic discussion. This time? Does it really matter? I think it was about you moving in with me and you were insisting that I take over most of the bills. Because my job title averages more than yours. According to some data you found somewhere. And I was honestly trying to call it all off but then you pulled out your phone and showed me what you would do if I tried that. I’ll have you know I’ve been thinking of breaking things off for a long time. But after last night, well, I suppose it’s a moot point. It was about then you tripped over a little dog. You screamed, it screamed, you kicked it, you slipped, and… the wall to the river was right behind you.

I pulled you out, of course I did. I got the little dog, too. It was too hurt to leave behind. They tell me that operating on someone so close to you is difficult and unethical. Ha, the ethics… Ha aha aha ha… anyway. It was an interesting surgery. Head wound? No no no, not really. I’ve done head injuries before. This was more… experimental. Sort of like saving two lives, if you think about it, or at least two halves. Three by some counts. Let’s turn the light up a bit more…

I do have one last adjustment before we’re done here. Yes, I told the shelter I found an injured dog and they’ll be here to collect it soon. I just don’t think they’ll understand if it talks to them… But I wanted to have the chance to say goodbye first.

So goodbye. Now hold still.

fin

Well, I don’t know how I did here. Pacing, reveal, tone, etc. I’ll analyze it some other time when it’s less fresh; editing a piece you just did usually is less than productive. Now I’m headed to bed and I hope this doesn’t continue playing out in my head overnight…

Intellectual Property of Elizabeth Doman
Feel free to share via link
Do not copy to other websites or skim for AI training

This entry was posted in Analysis, Fiction, Rough Draft, Short Story, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.