Making a monster

"If you could create your very own monster, what would it look like? What would it be called? What types of things would it do to scare people? Where does the monster live? Tell me everything there is to know about your monster."

The monster that comes to my mind is a short cretin called the Angler Man.  He lives in deep forests and looks like a very diminutive traveler, at least on the fog-filled nights when he comes walking.  He is never seen without his lantern, which he waves as a method to beckon lost travelers to come and follow him.  But those who follow him are doomed, for he leads them back to a shack with warm light that turns out to be an eternal trap.  Those who go inside are dragged into the cellar by the Angler Man, where he steals their breath and voice to lure their loved ones to his hideaway.

No one knows what happens to the people trapped below, for none have ever escaped.  And yes, it may seem like an easy thing to avoid remote shacks, but it is said that the light is hypnotic and impossible to break away from.

 

Designing a haunted house

"If you could design a haunted house, what would you name it? What types of rooms would you have? Describe, in detail, 3 of the best rooms in your haunted house."

Were I to design a haunted house, I would call it the Old Cronos Place.  Each room would be themed after a different time period and would transition from one to the other with surreal seamlessness.  I can imagine a lot of rooms would be good, but my three favorites would be unique and memorable.  The first favorite would be the Fallout Cellar, taking people into the basement into a world of Cold War paranoia, complete with radioactive glows and Communist zombies.  The second would be the Plague Room, where rats would hang from the ceilings and people in doctor masks would stalk ominously around and condemn people as being infected.  Finally, the third would be the Grand Battlefield, converting the entire backyard into one massive warzone where ghostly soldiers from every war would stare eerily at all the patrons.

When visiting Cuba, a strange event occurs…

Everyone just stopped.  Not “stood still,” but literally froze in place.

It was the hottest and busiest day of the summer, citizens and tourists alike rushing to get somewhere, some were climbing into cabs and trucks while others were reading and talking.  And then, without warning, the entire crowd froze in place, some in midair or midblink.  Even when the wind blew through, their hair didn’t move an inch.

And then, the strange figure came lopping out through the crowd.  It wasn’t very human-shaped nor did it even have feet, but it did have some form of head and eyes under its brown garments that draped over its morphing form.  It slid through the crowd for frozen faces and began looking at each one as if searching.

The shine of water

The shine of water from the creek made the light on the redwood trees dance near the campgrounds.  This, combined with the birds warbling at their loudest, gave Stephanie a clear signal that it was time to get up.  Stretching out, she shook out her limbs to get some motion and activity into them before getting on her jeans and her loose fitting flannel and stepping outside.

Maria and Toby had already gotten up, now prodding and poking the logs in the fire pit to try and kick start the fire.  She gave them a friendly wave before going over to their gas stove and starting the kettle.  Today was a hot chocolate morning.  As she waited for the water to heat up, she noticed someone staring at the campsite on the other side of the bushes from hers, completely obscured by a wall of brambles and trees.

She thought the shields looked like giant nipples

“I’m just saying,” Amy said, “those shields look like enormous nipples.  I wonder if they were prepping to fight an army of babies.”  She let out a snort at her own joke.

                  

Graham, meanwhile, was not amused.  He didn’t even look around to see if the other museum patrons were staring at them.  “Why do you have to be so crude?”

“Gee, I dunno,” she replied, the grin disappearing from her face.  “Why do you have to be so uptight?”

“I am not uptight,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I just don’t think that this place of history is the right time for lowest common denominator humor.”

“Lowest common denominator!?” she shouted, drawing heads their way.  “Is that what you think of me!?  Look, I’m sorry if the things that randomly pop into my brain aren’t the stuff of Socrates, but don’t you dare treat me like I play to the Adam Sandler crowd!”

“I’d really rather not do this…”  He started to turn away.

Photographs shape public opinion

A picture’s worth a thousand words.  Everybody knows that.  But there are times when a single picture can be a shot heard around the fucking world.  One snap of a politician getting into a car with a hooker or someone cheating on their significant other at a party, and suddenly the public’s view is shattered.  Their faith takes a gut punch if they liked the guy.  And more often than not, everyone descends on the person like scavengers ready to pick their flesh off while their down.

It’s how tabloids try to make their money, by putting a suggestive picture with a headline meant to shock people.  But here’s the thing, those vague photos are nothing compared to the smoking gun picture.  It doesn’t even come close.  Sure, there are some sheeple who will buy into those tabloids, just like there are people on the Internet who insist with all their heart that the moon landing was faked.

Smoking

“Jesus H. Fuck!!”

Black fumes billowed out from under the truck’s hood, causing will to fall back and nearly hack up his lungs.  The smoke kept rising in upward torrents and the machine part hissed so fiercely, he could swear that a batch of snakes started mating in there.  Will, his lungs clear, rose to see if anything was visible in his engine compartment.  No such luck.  The smoke showed no sigh of clearing and blocked whatever problem it was from view.

A car honked loudly as it swerved around the truck and Will had to fight back every urge to flip them off.  He didn’t ask to break down right in the middle of the roadway and whatever the problem was made it really hard to push the thing to the side of the road.

Significant other apology

I realize that the filters on my brain don’t always work right, but even so, some of the things I say can be a bit odd… yeah, let’s go with odd.  So I’ve decided to apologize for every single one of them.  Here goes.

I’m sorry I called your inner thighs marshmallows.  I was merely entranced by their soft fluffiness and, well, I like marshmallows.  Perhaps a better word choice was necessary, but “soft like doves” didn’t sound right at the time.

Let me also add that I’m sorry I compared your outer thighs to the Rocky Mountains and the surface of the Moon.  Yeah, I can’t think of anything else to say there.

Furthermore, I apologize for comparing your upper arms to jello.  I was entranced by their shaking and… never mind, I’m going to stop digging.

Surround

“Surround the cabin!” the Beast-king commanded, his enormous antlers silhouetted in the moonlight.  With a loud bray from the equine creature in the front, his hellish underlings began to run and gallop around the cabin.  Each one of them was a twisted parody of the animal kingdom, be it a canine with three jaws full of sharp teeth or a bear that stood five meters tall carrying more creatures on its back.

Soon the cabin in the forest was surrounded, the glints in the beast army’s eyes being the only source of outside light.  The humans had nowhere to run and soon, his human-bride would be his once more.  Her and his unborn child.