Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog, page 57

One Of My Favorite Words: Scrumptious!

 

60 Stylish Table Settings for Thanksgiving – under the table & dreaming by Stephanie Lynn

 

 

Hello, and welcome to my blog! I am a writer, but I am also a woman with many interests, and I’m a bit of a “foodie.” Anyone who knows me well would agree. I enjoy trying new recipes and even inventing recipes of my own. Baking, grilling, broiling — I love it all. I also enjoy eating good food (prepared with love of course, it’s the tastiest kind). I have prepared a list of food traditionally prepared for Thanksgiving so that even those of you who don’t traditionally celebrate Thanksgiving in your country can enjoy a feast fit for a king and queen on Thursday the 28th of November, or whenever.

I remember when I moved into my first house, everyone expected me to host Thanksgiving dinner at my new place. I searched all over the net for recipes. I had 15 guests! Everything turned out great (thank God). I have found some delicious recipes in various terrific blogs. Here I provide a menu of recipes so that anyone can prepare a complete and delicious Thanksgiving meal. If you’ve never hosted a Thanksgiving meal before maybe you should surprise your family this year. It’s a lot of work, but it’s also a great deal of fun, and your place will be blessed in the process. (To find the recipes and instructions click on the title links above each picture.)

I would love to hear about any funny (recipe gone wrong), unusual (Tofurkey anyone?) or rewarding (you invited a homeless person to dinner) Thanksgiving experiences you might have had. Feel free to tell me all about it in the comments section. I will share my favorites in a future post. ;D

 

 

I can’t imagine Thanksgiving without a beautifully roasted turkey.

For a juicy and tender Turkey follow the recipe at Just A Little Nutty

 

 

Carrie Groneman shows you how to make her delicious Butternut Squash Soup at A Mothers Shadow

 

 

At my house there must be cranberry sauce to accompany the turkey.

You can make Candied Orange and Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce (Yum!)

by following the recipe at Moore or Less Cooking Food Blog

 

 

Another Thanksgiving dinner staple: Mash Potato and Gravy.

Get a great and easy to follow recipe from the Barefoot Contessa – Ina Garten

 

 

Just A Little Nutty gives us a great recipe for Green Beans (You gotta have your veggies)

 

 

What is Thanksgiving dinner without stuffing (dressing)?

Bountiful Harvest Sausage & Cranberry Dressing

Get the recipe at It’s Yummi!

 

 

Another great recipe from Just A Little Nutty

Corn Soufflé (I’m salivating just looking at this picture)

 

 

We gotta have our carbs, right? The Rowdy Baker features a

scrumptious recipe for Pumpkin Rolls

 

 

No Thanksgiving meal would be complete without dessert! (At least, not in my house)

Cooking Classy will show you how to make this mouthwatering

Pumpkin Cheesecake with Salted Caramel Sauce

 

 

This is a nice twist on the traditional Pecan Pie.

And They Cooked Happily Ever After has a quick and easy recipe for you to follow

Pecan Squares

 

 

More dessert! I saw Lizbeth McGow’s recipe at Just Dip It In Chocolate and I had to add it here!

Butterscotch Banana Harvest Cake

 

 

Last, but certainly not least is a nice cocktail.

Find the recipe to this yummy drink by Francis Schott at Food & Wine

Dirty Bart

 

 

Food & Wine features another cocktail winner by Linton Hopkins

DCV

Am I A Sucker?

The other day I went to a nearby supermarket to buy strawberries, pineapple, kale, spinach and parsley for a smoothie I planned to make the following morning. The grocery store was busy for a Monday evening. I looked around and, of course, picked up a few knickknacks that were not on my shopping list—but what else is new. When I finally got to the checkout line, there were two people ahead of me (not bad).

 

I was caught up reading the latest gossip about Kim Kardashian and Miley Cyrus in the trashy magazines located in the racks conveniently placed near the register, when it dawned on me the line had not moved at all. The man at the head of the line took off, leaving all his groceries behind. The cashier pushed his groceries to one side and told the lady ahead of me to come forward. As she did, she asked what had happened. While the cashier explained, my ears were alert and focused (imagine a Chihuahua with its large ears standing at attention).

 

The man had forgotten his wallet at home, or so he claimed. As the cashier processed the groceries, her customer grimaced at the story, twisting her mouth and rolling her eyes. Then, as she was paying, the man suddenly returned. He explained to the cashier that he had misplaced his wallet and couldn’t find it. The customer sucked audibly on her teeth, shot him a dirty look, and walked away with her bags of groceries.

 

The man’s face wore an expression of complete humiliation. He continued to offer explanations to the woman behind the counter as she checked out my groceries. From the corner of my eye, I saw what he had come to get. There was no beer, whisky or cigarettes. As a matter of fact, his groceries consisted of staples: a pack of chicken drumsticks, milk, eggs, bread, a small bottle of vegetable oil, peanut butter, tomatoes and a package of American cheese.

 

I peeked at him and noticed his shoes were worn down to nothing. His pants were baggy and worn, as was his shirt. He had the look of a man going through hard times.

 

The cashier gave me my total. I paid. I left the supermarket.

 

As I walked away from the building, my heart grew heavy. I sat in my car. I’m not claiming to be Mother Teresa, but I couldn’t stand the thought of that man going hungry. I left my car and returned to the market. I ran to the checkout line. The man was no longer there, but his groceries still lay cramped in one corner. I asked the cashier where the man was, and she told me he had just walked out the door. I told the cashier I would pay for his groceries and then rushed to get him, but not before receiving a weird look from her.

 

I caught up to him at the corner and told him to come back to the store—that I would pay for his groceries. He refused. It took me quite a while to convince him to take my money. I finally told him he would be doing me a favor. The older man smiled faintly, took the money, and gave me his blessing. At that moment, I felt a weight lifted from me.

 

I’m not rich, and I know I’m no saint, but my gut told me this man really needed a break. He looked like he could be anyone’s dad. He was clean and did not smell of alcohol, and I could see anguish in his eyes. I was compelled to help him.

 

Some people I know tell me I’m a sucker. They say he went to the grocery store looking for a sucker to pay for his groceries. My answer to that is, maybe he did. Perhaps he was that hungry and that desperate.

 

So what do you think? Am I a sucker? Or did I do the right thing? What would you have done if you were in my shoes?

 

Honoring Veterans’ Day

I would like to thank all the men and women in the armed forces past and present. I believe there’s a special place in Heaven for all those who sacrificed themselves to make better the lives of others. I would like to also give gratitude to the soldiers’ families. I have featured this poem before, but it seemed suitable for today. Enjoy.

Remember the day I borrowed your brand new car and dented it?

I thought you’d kill me, but you didn’t.

And remember the time I dragged you to the beach, and you said it would rain, and it did?

I thought you’d say, “I told you so.” But you didn’t.

Do you remember the time I flirted with all the guys to make you jealous, and you were?

I thought you’d leave, but you didn’t.

Do you recall the time I spilled strawberry pie all over your car rug?

I thought you’d hit me, but you didn’t.

And remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was formal and you showed up in jeans?

I thought you’d drop me, but you didn’t.

Yes, there were lots of things you didn’t do.

But you put up with me, and loved me, and protected me.

There are lots of things I wanted to make up to you

when you returned from Iraq.

But you didn’t.

~Anonymous

Thank you to all our veterans and their families for your service, dedication, courage and sacrifice!

Please check out this poem written by an American soldier.

What Really Happened On The Original Thanksgiving Day?

Hello, everyone! Welcome to my blog. November is here; the eleventh month of the year. Wow! I can’t believe this year is almost over. November is a month of spring in the Southern Hemisphere and autumn in the Northern Hemisphere. The Romans named the month of November from novem, which is Latin for nine, since November was their ninth month.

Here in the USA, November is the month for giving thanks. Thanksgiving is a national holiday here, but it was not always so. There’s a cute fact about this: the woman who wrote the classic nursery rhyme “Mary Had a Little Lamb” also played an integral role in making Thanksgiving a national holiday. She was a magazine editor named Sarah Josepha Hale. She wrote letters to elected officials and campaigned for seventeen years. Now that’s what I call perseverance! She finally convinced President Abraham Lincoln to issue a decree recognizing Thanksgiving as a national holiday in 1863. Good for her!

My family has always celebrated Thanksgiving in the traditional way. Our meal consists of a large roasted turkey, cranberry sauce (a must at my house), mashed potatoes and gravy, candied yams (which I make with cream, brown sugar and my secret ingredient: marshmallows), stuffing, cornbread and green-bean casserole. Dessert usually consists of some kind of pie—usually pumpkin, pecan or apple—and chocolate cake (my brother has to have it). This is a very time-honored menu, in keeping with the traditional meal eaten by the original pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. Elsewhere, traditional dishes may reflect the region or cultural background of those celebrating, such as macaroni and cheese, collard greens, Kugel, latkes, biscuits, rutabagas, peas and carrots, and much more. Is anyone else getting hungry?

We all know (well, most of us in the USA) the sugarcoated version of the events that transpired on that first Thanksgiving Day. Or do we really? There’s a famous quote by Winston S. Churchill, and it reads like this; “History is written by the victors.” Hmm. I wonder what he meant by that?

This is the version of Thanksgiving I was taught in school: Civilized European Pilgrims set out across the Atlantic Ocean, and their efforts were rewarded with an entire continent of untold wealth. (Never mind the half-naked natives running around.) In 1621, after working, praying and surviving a bitter winter, the pilgrims took in an abundant harvest yielded by seeds brought from home. Inviting their heathen neighbors to join them, the Pilgrims gave thanks for their New World and its riches at a meal.

I guess what you learn in school changes every few years, so you have to re-learn stuff you thought you knew (like Pluto was a planet and now it isn’t, even though it has five moons). Okay, I’m already confusing myself, so let me continue before I lose you.

So that was the story of Thanksgiving I grew up believing. I have a friend who is a Native American Indian. I just found out that she does not celebrate Thanksgiving! I asked her why, and her response completely surprised me.

Wampanoag Indian

She says what really happened on that first Thanksgiving Day went more like this: After two months at sea and several deaths, the Pilgrims landed in July of 1620 on the coast of Massachusetts where the Wampanoags lived. These Indians wore leather garments (adding furs during the winter) and skillfully cultivated corn, beans, squash and pumpkins. They also hunted the woods for dear, elk and bear and fished for salmon and herring.

The wheat the Pilgrims brought from Europe was completely unsuited to the New England soil and failed to germinate. Half the settlers died during that first winter. The natives took pity on the Pilgrims. They saw they had no food and did not know how to work the land. So they brought them venison and furs, taught them how to plant corn using fish as fertilizer, how to dig for clams and tap maple trees for syrup. The Indians saved them from starvation and death.

The natives had a custom of celebrating six different thanksgiving festivals during the year. A dinner party the settlers were celebrating coincided with one of the Indians’ thanksgiving festivals, and they invited the generous natives who had saved their lives.

More than ninety Indians showed up for dinner. The Pilgrim menu was not enough for such a large crowd, so several Indians went out and returned with five deer. Here’s what was actually on the original Thanksgiving menu: venison, wild duck, wild geese, eels, clams, squash, corn bread, berries and nuts.

That meal was one of the last untroubled moments the settlers and natives spent together. Journals and letters written by those first settlers contain accounts of plundering indigenous stows of food, tools and furs. If the pilgrims hit upon it, they seized it. Within fifty years, most of the Wampanoags had died off, most claimed by European diseases, others murdered outright. Today, there are still five hundred Wampanoags living in New England.

They do not celebrate the American Thanksgiving.

 

Whatever the history of Thanksgiving, I believe it is a day to give thanks for what we have. Too often we focus on what we don’t have—or worse—on what others have that we want. Let’s give thanks for another day of living, for the roof over our heads, for our health, our family and even our pets (that bring us so much joy). As a matter of fact, we don’t have to wait for that one day a year to be grateful. Let’s give thanks everyday because if you focus on the positive, you will see that there’s always something to be thankful for.

 

 

Raven’s Masterpiece

Hello and welcome to my blog! Tonight in continuation of my Spooky Nights In October series I have posted another of my Horror short stories. This will be the last Horror story I will post for a while.  This is a story about best friends Raven and Nina, and some unfortunate events that occur in their lives. I hope you enjoy it.

Raven and Nina – Bffs

“Lake Creepy-Crawly”

Nina & Raven

Download: the_haunted_carousel_ball-stephen_burns.mp3

(^ CLICK PLAY for music track)

Raven’s Halloween Masterpieces

“Raven, I can’t believe you’re really going through with it,” said Nina, her face frozen in an astonished smile.

“Once you and Travis leave for college, there’ll be nothing left for me in this small town,” muttered Raven. “Besides, I’m an artist, Nina! I need to expand my wings and fly!” She swung her arms outward and fell back on the grass surrounding Lake Creepy-Crawly.

“But…New York is such a big city. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be swallowed up by the masses?”

“I plan to shine bright like a Nova. By the time I’m through with that town, everyone will know my name.”

Nina glanced at Raven and giggled. Raven joined in her laughter and suddenly jumped to her feet.

“Lets go in!”

“Go in where?”

“Lets go for a swim in the lake. For old time’s sake,” gushed Raven, her blue eyes glittering with mischievousness.

“No way! Why do you think the town nicknamed it Lake Creepy-Crawly? If you go in, you won’t be swimming alone. There are things in that lake. They’ll crawl all over you.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is!” yelled Nina, wide-eyed. “No one has gone swimming there for years. Not since the incident.”

“Do you mean when the fish died?”

“It was more than just a few fish. Old man Sam said that the big company out by Expiry road had something to do with it. He saw them dump things into the lake one night. The next morning, the lake’s fish were floating on the surface. Dead.”

“Old man Sam drinks!”

“Yes, but he wasn’t the only one who witnessed the dead fish, and everyone knows that nothing grows or lives in that lake anymore, except…except those things.” Nina shuddered.

“It’s been a while since that happened,” said Raven. “Those things have probably always been there. Besides, they’re tiny.”

“They were tiny. With time, everything changes …and not always for the best.”

Without waiting for the end of Nina’s sentence, Raven ran and jumped into the lake and splashed around happily, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. A powerful feeling of foreboding enshrouded Nina like a suffocating blanket. When Raven finally emerged from the lake, Nina rushed to her.

“You’re nuts! Sometimes I think you just do crazy things to torment me.”

Raven scoffed. “Who’s being dramatic now, huh?”

Nina picked up the blanket they had been sitting on and placed it around Raven’s shoulders.

“Ugh!” Raven groaned. She tilted her head sideways and pounded on it with the palm of her hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“There must be water in my ear,” said Raven, shaking her head. “There, I think that did it.”

“I don’t know how you could swim in that murky water. Look at it—it’s black!”

Raven waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes! You need a shower.” Nina giggled, pinching her nose and waving her hand as though to clear the stench in the air.

“Gimme hug! Me want big hug!” joked Raven as she ran after a screaming Nina.

 

 

*Two months later *

“Campus life is great! ” Nina raved on the phone. “I’m really enjoying myself here. I’m doing really well in my classes, and I’ve made some new friends. Oh, and Travis says hello!”

“That’s great. I’m doing okay, too. I’m painting almost non-stop. I showed one of my works in progress to the manager of a posh art gallery downtown. He was impressed and offered to show my work in early November.”

“That’s awesome, Raven!”

“Will you come for the opening?”

“But we talked about me visiting for Halloween, remember? To see how New York celebrates our favorite holiday?”

“You could stay through the first week of November,” replied Raven in a sullen voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t sound like yourself. Aren’t you excited about Halloween and your very first art show?”

“Of course I am. It’s just these headaches… I can’t seem to shake.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No. It’s only headaches. Two Advil, and I’ll be all right.”

“But if you can’t get rid of it—”

“The pills will help take the edge off so I can get back to work.”

“Alright, but if the headaches continue, you’ll need to see someone.”

“Yeah, well… If I want to have these paintings done by the opening, I’d better get back to work. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Okay. Bye, Raven. Take care.”

 

 

*One month later*

“Aaaahhhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Get out of there!” Raven pounded her head. She collapsed to the floor and pulled her hair with both hands. She screamed and groaned as she squirmed on the floor of her one-bedroom apartment.

A banging on the door did not stop her howling.

“Miss Raven! Open the door, Miss Raven!” yelled a woman’s voice. “That racket is driving everybody crazy!”

Raven opened the door. Her long dark hair was disheveled and covered a good portion of her face. Her shoulders were scrunched around her ears. Her blue eyes, once vivid azures, were now dull and foggy, with intense redness where the whites should be and deep dark circles underneath. Her usually rosy lips were pale and dry.

At the sight of her, the building superintendent flinched and squinted, as though trying not to capture all the unpleasantness at once. “Are you ill?” she asked, wringing her hands.

“No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look too good. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“A doctor can’t help me with what I’ve got. You need to leave me alone.”

“I have received countless complaints from your neighbors about screaming, loud banging and crashing noises coming from your apartment.”

“You keep knocking on my door!”

“And each time you tell me that the noises will stop, but I keep getting complaints from your neighbors.” She added with a grumble, “If the noises don’t stop, I’ll have to call the police.”

“I assure you… the complaints will stop.”

The superintendent stared at her. “Make sure they do. I don’t want to come back here again.” She turned and shuffled away. Raven followed the old woman with her eyes until she was out of sight.

 

 

*

“Hello, Raven. How are you? I’ve been calling and leaving messages, but you never return my calls.”

“Hi, Nina!” Raven replied in an excited voice.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m great!”

“Why are you yelling? You sound manic. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I’m just excited to hear from you. I’m sorry about not returning your calls. I’ve been very busy, working on my paintings. I’m all done now! I have left over materials, so I’m using them to decorate for Halloween. You’re still coming up, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good! I’m throwing a Halloween party! I’ve invited some friends and neighbors. You’re going to love what I’ve done with the place,” bellowed Raven.

 

 

*All Hollow’s Eve*

“Raven is going to be surprised to see you. I hope she doesn’t get angry,” said Nina.

“Why would she? I’m your date for the party,” said Travis.

“She hasn’t been herself lately. Sometimes on the phone, she seems despondent and her voice is barely audible; other times, her voice is excited and shrill. But the last time we spoke, it was more like a groan or a growl.”

Travis scrunched his brow. “That sounds weird.”

“She’s been having these terrible headaches, but she refuses to see a doctor. I’ve been calling her all day, but I haven’t been able to reach her. And yet, she knows I’m arriving today. I hope she’s okay.”

“Well, she’s throwing a Halloween party. How bad could she be?” said Travis. “She’s probably busy putting the party together.”

“You’re right. Halloween was always our favorite holiday. She’s probably knee-deep in Halloween décor right now. It’s going to be fun.” Nina tried to force a smile. “Anyway, thanks for coming with me.”

Travis and Nina approached Raven’s apartment building. They rang the buzzer several times, but no one answered. Travis pressed on the inner door, which swung open.

“Hello,” he called.

There was no answer, so Travis and Nina started up the stairs. When they reached apartment 5B, they found the door ajar.

“I was expecting festive lights and blaring music,” said Travis.

“Why is her door open?” said Nina. The door creaked as she pushed on it, and they entered the dimly lit apartment. All the lights were off, except for a small lamp on an end table near the sofa. The curtains were drawn. The smell hit them almost immediately—rancid, jolting, evil—a stench to make the inside of their noses burn.

“Wow! She really went all out with the macabre theme,” said Travis.

“What’s that smell?” said Nina.

“That is one of my best works,” a dark, sinister voice answered. Nina and Travis directed their eyes toward the voice. Nina’s legs faltered. If it weren’t for Travis, she would have fallen.

“Raven?” sputtered Nina.

Raven’s skin appeared ashen and leathery. Her ratty, black hair framed her face like curtains. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wore a raggedy long black dress.

“Do you like my painting?” said Raven, tottering toward her.

Nina reached for Travis’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your… painting?” she stammered.

“Yes, come and have a look.”

Nina and Travis followed Raven deeper into the apartment.

“At first, I couldn’t figure out what my series of paintings should be about,” said Raven, waving a paintbrush like a conductor’s wand. “Then an explosion of light went off in my head. Why not make paintings of my neighbors gathered for a great supper?”

“Interesting concept,” said Travis.

Nina stepped closer to the painting to have a better look, but then backed away. The stench seemed to be coming from the painting itself. Its surface was slathered in deep red paint and there were rubbery objects attached – no doubt the type of props that gag shops offered around Halloween. Nina looked around. All of the walls were adorned with the dark red paintings.

“So, you like them?” said Raven. The manic tone was back in her voice.

“Well…” said Nina.

“I like your costume, Raven,” said Travis in a falsely cheerful voice.

As Raven brought up her hand, Nina noticed that the handle of the wooden paintbrush had been sharpened to a point. Before Travis realized what was happening, Raven had stabbed him in the chest. He stumbled and fell on his back. Nina wailed, dropped to her knees and began to shake him, but he lay still, his eyes wide open.

“Why Raven? Why?” Nina cried, staring imploringly at the monster that was once her friend.

“I’m not wearing a costume,” said Raven matter-of-factly. She glared at Nina. “Do you like my paintings or not?”

Nina was sitting on the floor directly beneath one of the paintings. She peered at it through blurred vision.

“Well? What do you think?” Raven’s voice became angry and vicious. Nina jolted and wiped the wetness from her eyes with trembling hands. She shuddered as she was finally able to see the painting for what it was. Those rubbery objects attached to its surface weren’t from the gag shop – they were real intestines, brains, hearts, tongues, spleens, and who knows what else. “How many people died here?” Nina wondered. Her stomach churned, and she felt lightheaded.

“Tell me!” roared Raven. Then she became calm and studied Nina’s face. Suddenly, Raven said cheerfully, “If you don’t like it I can always improve it.”

Raven lurched over to Travis’ body and grabbed his head, lifting it by the hair. She buried the tip of the large paintbrush into the tear duct and popped the eyeball out. She did the same with the other eye to the rhythm of Nina’s wails. She grabbed the eyeballs dangling on his cheeks and yanked them from the optic nerve. Nina felt an expansion in her head and a weakness throughout her body.

“I can’t have a fainting fit. I have to get to my feet!” Nina’s panicked mind raced. Her eyes shifted to the door. Raven stood between her and the exit.

“Here we go. Much better, right?” asked Raven as she attached Travis’ eyes to the bowl of soup in the painting. The painted bowl was now crowded with eyeballs. “My neighbors were always watching me, so I decided to paint an homage to their prying eyes.”

Trembling, Nina stood up. A shriek escaped her lips. Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be happy for me,” screamed Raven. “I knew you wouldn’t like my work. Well, I have a few more improvements to make, but for the final touches, I’ll need something from you.”

Raven lunged at Nina, clutching her filed paintbrush.

Nina’s legs started moving, as though on automatic pilot. As Raven chased her, howling ghoulishly, Nina ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the countertop. Raven charged and ran into Nina’s extended arm, which held the knife. Raven stared into Nina’s eyes and moaned. Nina thought she heard her murmur, Thank you.

Nina released hold of the knife, and Raven slid to the floor. Nina kneeled next to her and rocked back and forth, sobbing. Her mind was unable to fully grasp what had just happened.

“Why? Why did you do this? Raven…why?”

She saw the answer to her question as Raven took her last breath. They crawled out of her ear by the dozens—the wiggly wormy things she recognized from their hometown lake. The parasites were vacating Raven’s head, no longer having a live brain to feed on.

Okay, before you guys go off the deep end, let me explain. The images of the human body parts are unsettling I know, but guess what? They’re actually bread. Yes! Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Thai artist and baker Kittiwat Unarrom creates these edible bread sculptures and sells them at his family’s bakery!

 

I don’t think I’d be able to put any of this bread in my mouth without retching, but hey, if you’ve ever fantasized about eating a person zombie-style hop on a plane to Thailand and visit Kittiwat’s bakery and you can do it legally. Read more about this Body Part Bakery and The Walking Bread here. Check out this video.

Yes, all of this is edible!

Raven’s Halloween Masterpiece

Hello and welcome to my blog! Tonight in continuation of my Spooky Nights In October series I have posted another of my Horror short stories. This will be the last Horror story I will post for a while.  This is a story about best friends Raven and Nina, and some unfortunate events that occur in their lives. I hope you enjoy it.

“Lake Creepy-Crawly”

Nina & Raven

Download: the_haunted_carousel_ball-stephen_burns.mp3

(^ CLICK PLAY for music track)

Raven’s Halloween Masterpieces

“Raven, I can’t believe you’re really going through with it,” said Nina, her face frozen in an astonished smile.

“Once you and Travis leave for college, there’ll be nothing left for me in this small town,” muttered Raven. “Besides, I’m an artist, Nina! I need to expand my wings and fly!” She swung her arms outward and fell back on the grass surrounding Lake Creepy-Crawly.

“But…New York is such a big city. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be swallowed up by the masses?”

“I plan to shine bright like a Nova. By the time I’m through with that town, everyone will know my name.”

Nina glanced at Raven and giggled. Raven joined in her laughter and suddenly jumped to her feet.

“Lets go in!”

“Go in where?”

“Lets go for a swim in the lake. For old time’s sake,” gushed Raven, her blue eyes glittering with mischievousness.

“No way! Why do you think the town nicknamed it Lake Creepy-Crawly? If you go in, you won’t be swimming alone. There are things in that lake. They’ll crawl all over you.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is!” yelled Nina, wide-eyed. “No one has gone swimming there for years. Not since the incident.”

“Do you mean when the fish died?”

“It was more than just a few fish. Old man Sam said that the big company out by Expiry road had something to do with it. He saw them dump things into the lake one night. The next morning, the lake’s fish were floating on the surface. Dead.”

“Old man Sam drinks!”

“Yes, but he wasn’t the only one who witnessed the dead fish, and everyone knows that nothing grows or lives in that lake anymore, except…except those things.” Nina shuddered.

“It’s been a while since that happened,” said Raven. “Those things have probably always been there. Besides, they’re tiny.”

“They were tiny. With time, everything changes …and not always for the best.”

Without waiting for the end of Nina’s sentence, Raven ran and jumped into the lake and splashed around happily, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. A powerful feeling of foreboding enshrouded Nina like a suffocating blanket. When Raven finally emerged from the lake, Nina rushed to her.

“You’re nuts! Sometimes I think you just do crazy things to torment me.”

Raven scoffed. “Who’s being dramatic now, huh?”

Nina picked up the blanket they had been sitting on and placed it around Raven’s shoulders.

“Ugh!” Raven groaned. She tilted her head sideways and pounded on it with the palm of her hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“There must be water in my ear,” said Raven, shaking her head. “There, I think that did it.”

“I don’t know how you could swim in that murky water. Look at it—it’s black!”

Raven waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes! You need a shower.” Nina giggled, pinching her nose and waving her hand as though to clear the stench in the air.

“Gimme hug! Me want big hug!” joked Raven as she ran after a screaming Nina.

 

 

*Two months later *

“Campus life is great! ” Nina raved on the phone. “I’m really enjoying myself here. I’m doing really well in my classes, and I’ve made some new friends. Oh, and Travis says hello!”

“That’s great. I’m doing okay, too. I’m painting almost non-stop. I showed one of my works in progress to the manager of a posh art gallery downtown. He was impressed and offered to show my work in early November.”

“That’s awesome, Raven!”

“Will you come for the opening?”

“But we talked about me visiting for Halloween, remember? To see how New York celebrates our favorite holiday?”

“You could stay through the first week of November,” replied Raven in a sullen voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t sound like yourself. Aren’t you excited about Halloween and your very first art show?”

“Of course I am. It’s just these headaches… I can’t seem to shake.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No. It’s only headaches. Two Advil, and I’ll be all right.”

“But if you can’t get rid of it—”

“The pills will help take the edge off so I can get back to work.”

“Alright, but if the headaches continue, you’ll need to see someone.”

“Yeah, well… If I want to have these paintings done by the opening, I’d better get back to work. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Okay. Bye, Raven. Take care.”

 

 

*One month later*

“Aaaahhhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Get out of there!” Raven pounded her head. She collapsed to the floor and pulled her hair with both hands. She screamed and groaned as she squirmed on the floor of her one-bedroom apartment.

A banging on the door did not stop her howling.

“Miss Raven! Open the door, Miss Raven!” yelled a woman’s voice. “That racket is driving everybody crazy!”

Raven opened the door. Her long dark hair was disheveled and covered a good portion of her face. Her shoulders were scrunched around her ears. Her blue eyes, once vivid azures, were now dull and foggy, with intense redness where the whites should be and deep dark circles underneath. Her usually rosy lips were pale and dry.

At the sight of her, the building superintendent flinched and squinted, as though trying not to capture all the unpleasantness at once. “Are you ill?” she asked, wringing her hands.

“No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look too good. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“A doctor can’t help me with what I’ve got. You need to leave me alone.”

“I have received countless complaints from your neighbors about screaming, loud banging and crashing noises coming from your apartment.”

“You keep knocking on my door!”

“And each time you tell me that the noises will stop, but I keep getting complaints from your neighbors.” She added with a grumble, “If the noises don’t stop, I’ll have to call the police.”

“I assure you… the complaints will stop.”

The superintendent stared at her. “Make sure they do. I don’t want to come back here again.” She turned and shuffled away. Raven followed the old woman with her eyes until she was out of sight.

 

 

*

“Hello, Raven. How are you? I’ve been calling and leaving messages, but you never return my calls.”

“Hi, Nina!” Raven replied in an excited voice.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m great!”

“Why are you yelling? You sound manic. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I’m just excited to hear from you. I’m sorry about not returning your calls. I’ve been very busy, working on my paintings. I’m all done now! I have left over materials, so I’m using them to decorate for Halloween. You’re still coming up, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good! I’m throwing a Halloween party! I’ve invited some friends and neighbors. You’re going to love what I’ve done with the place,” bellowed Raven.

 

 

*All Hollow’s Eve*

“Raven is going to be surprised to see you. I hope she doesn’t get angry,” said Nina.

“Why would she? I’m your date for the party,” said Travis.

“She hasn’t been herself lately. Sometimes on the phone, she seems despondent and her voice is barely audible; other times, her voice is excited and shrill. But the last time we spoke, it was more like a groan or a growl.”

Travis scrunched his brow. “That sounds weird.”

“She’s been having these terrible headaches, but she refuses to see a doctor. I’ve been calling her all day, but I haven’t been able to reach her. And yet, she knows I’m arriving today. I hope she’s okay.”

“Well, she’s throwing a Halloween party. How bad could she be?” said Travis. “She’s probably busy putting the party together.”

“You’re right. Halloween was always our favorite holiday. She’s probably knee-deep in Halloween décor right now. It’s going to be fun.” Nina tried to force a smile. “Anyway, thanks for coming with me.”

Travis and Nina approached Raven’s apartment building. They rang the buzzer several times, but no one answered. Travis pressed on the inner door, which swung open.

“Hello,” he called.

There was no answer, so Travis and Nina started up the stairs. When they reached apartment 5B, they found the door ajar.

“I was expecting festive lights and blaring music,” said Travis.

“Why is her door open?” said Nina. The door creaked as she pushed on it, and they entered the dimly lit apartment. All the lights were off, except for a small lamp on an end table near the sofa. The curtains were drawn. The smell hit them almost immediately—rancid, jolting, evil—a stench to make the inside of their noses burn.

“Wow! She really went all out with the macabre theme,” said Travis.

“What’s that smell?” said Nina.

“That is one of my best works,” a dark, sinister voice answered. Nina and Travis directed their eyes toward the voice. Nina’s legs faltered. If it weren’t for Travis, she would have fallen.

“Raven?” sputtered Nina.

Raven’s skin appeared ashen and leathery. Her ratty, black hair framed her face like curtains. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wore a raggedy long black dress.

“Do you like my painting?” said Raven, tottering toward her.

Nina reached for Travis’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your… painting?” she stammered.

“Yes, come and have a look.”

Nina and Travis followed Raven deeper into the apartment.

“At first, I couldn’t figure out what my series of paintings should be about,” said Raven, waving a paintbrush like a conductor’s wand. “Then an explosion of light went off in my head. Why not make paintings of my neighbors gathered for a great supper?”

“Interesting concept,” said Travis.

Nina stepped closer to the painting to have a better look, but then backed away. The stench seemed to be coming from the painting itself. Its surface was slathered in deep red paint and there were rubbery objects attached – no doubt the type of props that gag shops offered around Halloween. Nina looked around. All of the walls were adorned with the dark red paintings.

“So, you like them?” said Raven. The manic tone was back in her voice.

“Well…” said Nina.

“I like your costume, Raven,” said Travis in a falsely cheerful voice.

As Raven brought up her hand, Nina noticed that the handle of the wooden paintbrush had been sharpened to a point. Before Travis realized what was happening, Raven had stabbed him in the chest. He stumbled and fell on his back. Nina wailed, dropped to her knees and began to shake him, but he lay still, his eyes wide open.

“Why Raven? Why?” Nina cried, staring imploringly at the monster that was once her friend.

“I’m not wearing a costume,” said Raven matter-of-factly. She glared at Nina. “Do you like my paintings or not?”

Nina was sitting on the floor directly beneath one of the paintings. She peered at it through blurred vision.

“Well? What do you think?” Raven’s voice became angry and vicious. Nina jolted and wiped the wetness from her eyes with trembling hands. She shuddered as she was finally able to see the painting for what it was. Those rubbery objects attached to its surface weren’t from the gag shop – they were real intestines, brains, hearts, tongues, spleens, and who knows what else. “How many people died here?” Nina wondered. Her stomach churned, and she felt lightheaded.

“Tell me!” roared Raven. Then she became calm and studied Nina’s face. Suddenly, Raven said cheerfully, “If you don’t like it I can always improve it.”

Raven lurched over to Travis’ body and grabbed his head, lifting it by the hair. She buried the tip of the large paintbrush into the tear duct and popped the eyeball out. She did the same with the other eye to the rhythm of Nina’s wails. She grabbed the eyeballs dangling on his cheeks and yanked them from the optic nerve. Nina felt an expansion in her head and a weakness throughout her body.

“I can’t have a fainting fit. I have to get to my feet!” Nina’s panicked mind raced. Her eyes shifted to the door. Raven stood between her and the exit.

“Here we go. Much better, right?” asked Raven as she attached Travis’ eyes to the bowl of soup in the painting. The painted bowl was now crowded with eyeballs. “My neighbors were always watching me, so I decided to paint an homage to their prying eyes.”

Trembling, Nina stood up. A shriek escaped her lips. Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be happy for me,” screamed Raven. “I knew you wouldn’t like my work. Well, I have a few more improvements to make, but for the final touches, I’ll need something from you.”

Raven lunged at Nina, clutching her filed paintbrush.

Nina’s legs started moving, as though on automatic pilot. As Raven chased her, howling ghoulishly, Nina ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the countertop. Raven charged and ran into Nina’s extended arm, which held the knife. Raven stared into Nina’s eyes and moaned. Nina thought she heard her murmur, Thank you.

Nina released hold of the knife, and Raven slid to the floor. Nina kneeled next to her and rocked back and forth, sobbing. Her mind was unable to fully grasp what had just happened.

“Why? Why did you do this? Raven…why?”

She saw the answer to her question as Raven took her last breath. They crawled out of her ear by the dozens—the wiggly wormy things she recognized from their hometown lake. The parasites were vacating Raven’s head, no longer having a live brain to feed on.

Okay, before you guys go off the deep end, let me explain. The images of the human body parts are unsettling I know, but guess what? They’re actually bread. Yes! Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Thai artist and baker Kittiwat Unarrom creates these edible bread sculptures and sells them at his family’s bakery!

 

I don’t think I’d be able to put any of this bread in my mouth without retching, but hey, if you’ve ever fantasized about eating a person zombie-style hop on a plane to Thailand and visit Kittiwat’s bakery and you can do it legally. Read more about this Body Part Bakery and The Walking Bread here. Check out this video.

Yes, all of this is edible!

Halloween Horror Nights

Hi everyone! Welcome. I’m nearing the end of my Spooky Nights In October series. So, I mentioned in one of my previous posts that I had plans to go to Halloween Horror Nights. Well, I did go and I want to tell you all about it.

 

First, I stayed at the Loews Royal Pacific Resort at Universal Orlando. I experienced the allure of the South Seas in this beautiful hotel and it’s at walking distance from the park.

My room

My two doggies, Rascal and Cocoa came along and they were ecstatic that they had their own bed.

Cocoa (left) and Rascal (right)

Cocoa & Rascal made themselves comfy for sleepy time.

The hotel’s concierge sent over a goody bag for… you guessed it, Rascal and Cocoa! I received diddly-squat!

Doggie Goody Bag

My room had a great view.

I could really get used to it. :/

Okay, enough about the awesome hotel and room. Now, one of the genres I write is Horror. I love it. So you all can see how Halloween Horror Nights could be an inspirational place for me. If you enjoy reading Horror please take some time to read my posts Terror and Hell’s Half Acre and don’t miss my Spooky Nights In October grand finale short story Raven’s Halloween Masterpiece inspired by my visit to Halloween Horror Nights.

 

One of the things I love to do when I go to Halloween Horror Nights is people watch. I enjoy watching the actors roam around the park dressed in some scary garb and I take pleasure in seeing the reaction of their victims. I mentioned in one of my earlier posts that there is artistry and beauty everywhere and that it comes in many forms. I definitely saw beauty at Halloween Horror Nights, although not in the traditional sense of the word. Does this make me weird? Probably. Ha,ha! Oh well, see for yourself.

The Walking Dead

The Cabin In The Woods

Zombies are the big theme this year. There were actors all over the park trying to scare the bejeezus out of you.

I had a lot of fun watching the screamers and the runners.

The Houses were great this year. There are 8 houses, but if you’d like to see them all you really need to purchase an express pass. If you cannot afford an express pass (they are pricey) be sure not to miss these houses: The Cabin in the Woods, The Walking Dead and Evil Dead House. These were my favorites. I wasn’t too impressed with the Resident Evil House, which was disappointing since it’s one of my favorite film series.

Halloween Horror Nights was like a great Halloween Block Party, only I got to enter houses that thrilled and entertained me. There’s music, food and plenty to provide amusement and enjoyment. I hope I’ve given you a good overview of what it was like to visit Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Florida. Don’t miss my next post where I will be featuring my final Horror story for the Spooky Nights In October series. Have a great day!

The Good, the Funny and the Ugly

Greetings all! Thank you for visiting my blog. There are 13 days left for Halloween. Today I wanted to share with you some of the beautiful, artsy, creepy and fascinating Halloween Make-up and Costumes I have come across. Who knows, maybe you can get some inspiration for your own costume and make-up. Enjoy!

Scarecrow – Not too scary huh?

What a Doll!

Great illusion – Dolly

Zipper Face – Gross, but the make-up is great!

Phantom – Ooh! This one scares me!

[image error]

Frankenstein’s Wife – She looks angry. “That’s why we can’t have kids-your nuts are in your neck!”

Shark Mouth – I don’t want to be around when she gets hungry.

Cracked Doll – Yes, I have a thing with dolls.

The Bride is Blue

Poison Ivy – Great make-up!

Steampunk – Cool and stylish costume.

Penguin Costume – This is an accident waiting to happen.

50 Shades of Grey – enough said…

Poop Factory – Awww! I don’t think he’s happy about this title.

Nun – Taking a break?

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall – Ha,ha! How adorable is this!

Batman’s Joker – This is the cutest Joker ever!
Why So Serious?

TERROR

Download: creepy_crawlies-freesoundtrackmusic.mp3

(^ For creepier effect turn on sound-effect)

Hey everyone! Continuing my efforts to completely creep you out this month I will begin with a hair-raising quote by the master of horror: Stephen King. Enjoy the story. Oh! If you’d like to heighten the creep-factor, press play on the sound player just below the picture of the strange doll. Enjoy!

The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it’s when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead walking around, it’s when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It’s when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there’s nothing there…

~Stephen King

TERROR

He touched me. His cold fingers lay upon my bare shoulder and made me shudder. His breath, icy, lingered on the hairs standing on end at the back of my neck.

I turned quickly.

No one.

My eyes flickered in every direction searching for his likeness. I was alone in my room.

This is not the first time this has happened to me. He still torments me. It was not enough to do so while he was still among the living. He visits me now as he did then…only at midnight.

At first it was only a touch, and he was gone—back to the place where phantoms dwell. Cold and piercing as was his contact, I preferred it to the unspeakable things he now does to me. I can’t get away so I lie awake, waiting for him, as I did not too long ago when he was still alive.

Alive, in the dead of night, he used to leave my mother in a drunken sleep and sneak inside my bedroom. He’d put a hand over my mouth and threaten to kill me if I spoke a word to anyone of the vile acts he would perform on my teenage body. Back then my mind would escape, leaving my body to suffer the terror and pain. I escaped to a faraway place to be by myself. Being alone then was a blessing. When he was finished with me for the night, I’d lie writhing in pain, bleeding and sobbing against my pillow as he once more made threats to end me before departing my room.

There is no escaping him now. He haunts my mind, my very soul, and being alone now is synonymous with hell. How do you rid yourself of a ghoul—an evil spirit that plagues your slumber? I wish I knew. Night after night, he tortures me. My shrieks and howls go unheard. I am on my own.

Tonight I will put an end to my suffering. I can no longer endure the hurt and anguish he inflicts on me. I should have done this long ago. Perhaps this would have been a better solution to ending the agony, rather than the one I ultimately chose.

Uggh! As I run a piece of glass along my wrist to the point of bleeding, I tell myself the excruciating pain is only temporary. My hand shakes uncontrollably, making it difficult to finish what I began, but I am determined to end this nightmare. I will be rid of him once and for all.

Argh! The agony! It is as if I just forced white-hot pokers into my arms. My fingers cramp and seize into claws. Slitting one’s wrists is not the painless, glamorous death the movies make it out to be. It is repulsive, foul, excruciating. I watch the blood gush out of me like geysers. There is gore everywhere. The smell of metal and fear assaults my nostrils. My chest feels tight. I scream. I cannot prevent myself from screaming in anguish. The pain. Oh God, the pain!

I feel a chill in my bones. I have an obscure sensation like something is expanding inside of me, filling me with haze. I… I…

 

 

*

The doctor bent over, hands on knees, panting after running from the other side of the hospital. “Nurse, how could she do this with your station right outside the room?”

“I heard nothing—only silence—but when I entered the room to administer the nightly medications, I found her like this.”

“Did you..” deep breath, “move the body?”

“I found her just as you see her.”

“In all my years tending the mentally insane, I have never seen anything like this.” The doctor pulled a small tape recorder out of his lab coat and pressed the record button. “The patient is nude and covered in blood from head to toe. Her eyes are open and they gaze at me as if they could see me. Her arms are extended, her hands together, one over the other, palms up, resting on her thighs proximate to her knees. Her legs are crossed at the ankles.” He paused and took another deep breath. “The only visible wound on her body is a large laceration on her chest. It begins inferior to her sternum and extends to the left. It appears to be self-inflicted, although I have not been able to locate the instrument used.” The doctor gulped and continued. “Lying on the palm of her hand appears to be—her heart.” He switched off the recorder.

“Do we have to move her?”

“Call the police.”

 

 

*

“This is how they found her?” asked one of the orderlies.

“Yes. Neither the doctor nor the police wanted to move her,” responded the other hospital assistant.

“Strange. She looks like she’s just sitting comfortably in the chair, waiting for someone. Her dainty hands offering her heart as if on a platter. She should be slumped over, but she’s sitting upright and alert. Her open eyes look aware, and her face has an innocent tranquil quality. She looks as if at any moment she would break words. I don’t believe she was capable of doing this.”

“Of course she was capable! Both the doctor and police confirmed it. One of the CSI police noticed a large piece of glass jutting out slightly from the gash on her chest. She used it to cut herself open. I don’t understand how she could have that expression on her face after all that pain. Her faint smile and serene expression are unnerving. Besides, no one that ends up in this place is innocent. She murdered her stepfather in cold blood while he slept. Her mother awoke to find her straddling him, dressed only in his blood and gore. She stabbed him seventy-eight times. Her mother said she saw a demon in her eyes that night.”

“Why did she do it?”

“She claimed her stepfather abused her sexually.”

“Surely that must have driven her to it.”

“No, it would have been impossible for her stepfather to abuse her since he was paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Oh,” said the orderly, gawking at the young girl’s corpse. “Wow, she must have really been crazy.”

Readhead Girl – Ballpoint Pen by VianaArts

Illustrated by phantomphreaq (deviantArt)
Trauma Revisited

Hell’s Half Acre

Hello! I had said in my last post that for the rest of the month of October my posts will be of the spooky variety. I believe I am definitely delivering on that today. The following story is based on true facts as witnessed by a friend of mine that prefers to remain anonymous. Now I have to warn you, this true story is not for the faint of heart. My friend claims this story is true and since the incident occurred he and his friends had not spoken of it…until now.

Download: creepy-night-lullaby.mp3

^CLICK PLAY

The account as told to me by my friend…

Between the scraggly Florida bushes and the misting rain, Kit could barely make out the two small tire tracks where the remains of a road used to be. She was sitting in the backseat of the pickup truck, behind the guy she was trying so hard to be brave for and his best friend beside him. She chose the backseat because she felt that if she were behind him, he wouldn’t let anything get her. Kit’s best friend was sitting beside her as the four of them slowly made their way down the winding path, farther and farther into the woods.
In a voice as brave as she could muster, trying to hide the trembling from the shivers running up and down her spine, she said, “Why do they call this place Hell’s Half Acre?”

Johnny looked at her in the rearview mirror. The lights from the dashboard reflected ever so elegantly in her already bright green baby doll eyes. He could see she had her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, exposing the soft curves of her face.

 
With a smile he replied, “The story goes that in the 1930’s, a schoolteacher took her class out to the old sawmill on a field trip. That sawmill is where her husband had worked. One day while she was teaching at school, he disappeared, along with their three children. She didn’t know what had happened to them, and the unknowing was said to have driven her insane. That day at the mill, she killed all the children in her class before committing suicide. They say sometimes at night, you can still hear the old mill running, even though it was completely abandoned in the 60’s. There hasn’t been any power out here since it closed. They also say she has been seen walking down the road at night in a white dress stained with the blood of the children she murdered.”

Old, abandoned haunted Mill

Even though Kit usually found Johnny’s voice soft and soothing, the longer he talked, the more his words swept through her like a cold winter wind, chilling her to the bone. She had been raised in a church that believed in heaven and hell, demons and angels. Maybe that was one of the reasons she decided to come out here tonight—to see if everything she had been taught was true. Maybe she could bring some reality to match the faith she was told was so necessary.

 
Now Johnny was talking with Cody. Kit couldn’t really hear what they were saying, nor did she care. She focused on the schoolteacher’s story and on the old Live Oak trees that reached out above the grass-covered road as though they were trying to suck all the light out of the world.

“Kit, you gonna make it girl?” Shelley was leaning across the seat looking at her.

 
Her real name was Kathleen, but her friends called her Kit, short for Kit Kat. She turned from the window and looked at Shelley, who was such a great friend. When Kit first moved to town, Shelley was the first person she met, and for some reason, they just clicked.
“Yeah, I’m good.” That was the best lie she could come up with at the moment.

 
As the last of the light faded from the day, the rain started to fall more vigorously. Lightning lit up the sky, which only made the Live Oaks’ reaching arms seem that much creepier.

 
Johnny looked back over his shoulder. “Around this next corner, there should be a sign that says ‘Entering Hell’s Half Acre.’ Help me look for it, alright? They say not to drive your truck past the sign. Said it pisses the woman off!”

 
As they rounded the corner, Cody hollered. Johnny, who was still looking over his shoulder, spun back around and hit the brakes all in one motion. With no warning, the engine died. Without its constant hum, there was nothing to hide the thumping of Kit’s heart.

 
A loud clap of thunder shook the truck. The four friends stared out the front windshield. Kit’s fingers gripped the door handle of the truck so hard, she could no longer feel her fingers. At the right front quarter panel of the truck, covered in small green and brown vines, was the old sign: ‘Entering Hell’s Half Acre’.

 
A woman stood in front of the truck, peering back at them through long, wet, pitch-black hair and with eyes red from the tears of blood she had been crying.

Ghost of crazy teacher that murdered the children

Another flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder. Kit’s heart raced faster and faster. She was frozen. Everything in her wanted to scream, but her chest was so tight that she couldn’t even make herself breathe.

Kit staring at the unbelievable!

Underneath the wind-driven raindrops that crashed against the windows of the truck floated the whir of large saws starting up and the screams of horrified children. Kit could see Johnny desperately trying to restart the truck. The engine was dead!

 
The wind blew harder, as though this hell storm was solely concentrated on that one horrid half acre of the world forgotten by God. Another loud scream from a child—so much pain and fear in the sound that it penetrated Kit’s soul. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had been totally isolated from God. All she wanted to do was leave, but fear ripped through her body, leaving her paralyzed.

The next bolt of lightning was so bright that Kit was sure it hit the truck. For a moment she lost focus, like someone had just taken her picture with an oversized flash from a camera in a pitch-black room. The truck rocked back and forth as thunder bellowed its way through the four corners of hell.

When the roar of thunder subsided, Kit’s eyes focused once again beyond the windshield—but the woman was gone. Soft raindrops tapping on the window and the comforting purr of the engine were the only noises she could hear.

 
Johnny instinctively slammed the truck in reverse. As they made their way back down that long, dark, empty road from the place nobody should ever go, not one of them spoke a word. The absolute truth of the children’s cries on the wind and the woman, cold as the grave, standing in the road just past the sign were evidence enough for Kit that if there was a devil that could hold such a place on this Earth, then there must be a God to protect us from him.

 
What the four of them had seen and heard was never spoken of that night — or any other time since. But if you ever find yourself in need of evidence of what lies beyond, there is a small grass road out in the country that will take you under the old Live Oak trees to the end of the vision of God, and you will find what is truly unholy….