A Multitude of Short Stories E-Book

Taylor Collins

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A Multitude of Short Stories

This is a book filled with Thriller short stories ranging from stalkers to ghosts. Take a journey with me through a very dreadful time with these people (or creatures) and see what happens. There's 45 short, thriller stories in this book.

Photo by dev asangbam on Unsplash

Leseprobe

Taylor Collins

A Multitude of Short Stories

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

A Poem For Marilyn

A Poem For Marilyn

She was sitting in her seat

But something told me

She was such in fright

At the monster I had become

Yet everyone loved her

And I did as well

She helped me get right

In my head so I could sleep at night

I was in anguish

By the time I would have died

Yet, people didn’t seem to notice

Dismay

Marilyn saved my life

Who is gorgeous

Even underneath the Sun.

~~~

1

Late Night Stroll

I saw it succumb to the darkness of the night. It was drinking from an open wound there right in the middle of the woods. I had been walking out there in the middle of the night like I always had. Nothing ever had happened until that dreadful night.

The blood-gurgling thing must had lured that victim out there. I was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had no idea what to do. I turned, trying to be as silent as I could be to get away.

But it’s raspy voice spoke. It spoke!

“I can smell you, mortal,” it had said.

I flung out my pocket knife for self-defense.

“That won’t do you any good,” the raspy voice continued, and was taken aback at how quickly it was on me, pushing me to the ground with it on top of me.

I saw it’s hideous face. That face! It was my best friends worn out, dead face!

“James,” I said, not surprised. I had always felt James was still out there.

“Well, hello my dearest Abigail,” he said. “Have you come to tease me with some more of your seductive ways?”

“Well, no, James. You look hideous.” His face was pale, and he looked rather deformed.

“Oh, that won’t last long. Then you’ll want me even more,” he said, his ravenous voice continuing which I couldn’t bare. I loved James to death but wow. He had really let himself go.

Then his face seemed to morph back to normal. No, not normal. He looked more handsome. And when he spoke, his voiced sounded so soothing. It was like I was out to sea listening to the waves clash against the boat. It was almost like I had fallen in love with him once again.

“Sorry,” his voice was deep which pierced my ears in all pleasure. “The face induces fear upon my victims, which I like.”

James got up off of me, and pounced out of sight

I often wondered, hoped even, if he would come into my room late at night to see me, but he never did.

It was a pity. He made a charming vampire.

2

The Old House Murders

I lived in an old house. There was no electricity, I had to use candles to see at night, and had to sit by the fireplace for warmth. I was raised Amish, and didn’t believe in such a necessity. My parents would have been proud. I had left the village at the age 17. I couldn’t bare to be with the man I was to marry. I just left because everyone expected me to marry him. I am now 22, and I purchased the old house at a cheap price. The landlord was merciful.

The night it all started I was sitting in the kitchen writing, for it was passionate hobby of mine. It had been for the longest. A practiced art of mine.

I looked at the night sky out the window, and wondered. I wondered how my parents were doing, and worried about how they were handling my departure. My thoughts were interrupted by creaking coming from a door upstairs. For there was someone in my house!

The fireplace was burning, and that should have been enough light for me to see upstairs in case there was someone breaking in.

I stayed as silent as I could in a crouch, and made my way slowly to the staircase. There I saw it!

A sort of ghost? He was there one moment, standing beside the door that had creaked, and then he was gone! It had been right before my very eyes!

I had seen a ghost.

The next day, the landlord came upon me to see how I was fairing. I asked him, “Did the people that lived here before me possibly die in this old house?”

He looked at me, spooked.

He said, “Well, yes. I forgot to mention that the elderly couple that lived here before you were murdered.”

What he failed to mention was that the murderer was still about out there, lurking in the shadows of the night, awaiting his next victim.

I figured the landlord didn’t know this in the time of when I encountered him.

After the landlord had left, I went upstairs to check to see if there had been any belongings left of the elderly couple.

The only thing I had found had been a letter addressed to Stratus and Iris.

The letter was that of a warning to them. It made me cringe, for the warning was from someone who knew the man that had killed them. It stated that he was very demented, and he was to come after them! I tried to shake the eerie feeling I was getting, but to no avail. Then something hard hit the back of my head. I passed out instantly.

~

I awoke in a dark basement, dead bodies hanging everywhere. I was gagged, and couldn’t scream for help. I woke up to the sound of metal scraping together, and instantly saw him. I just knew he was the killer of Stratus and Iris. He was just staring at me, scraping the knives together with a peculiar look on his face. It was a look that said, he wasn’t feeling anything at all, except for a sort of pain and ecstasy of the enjoyment of suffering. He made me bleed, cutting into me with one of his knives, and using the other to coax me in my uncomfortable state of despair.

I wanted to beg for my life, but couldn’t.

I passed out from blood loss, feeling as if I had had enough.

I now live among the Stratus and Iris. Neither of them know why the killer had come to this particular house to slaughter the residents. We figured he was just in love with the house.

I died in the basement of my own house, not knowing since the time that I moved into the old house, that while I was sleeping, he was sneaking in and out, bringing forth dead bodies. I should have known, but couldn’t have known. For I had feared that basement.

I was known to weep from that point on, and ever since that day, I was not alright.  

3

Splendid Blood

The greatest necessity of my life was blood. It broadened my horizons when I drank the different elixirs. I once met a woman, and she tasted rather splendid when I had my way with her. I hid it well when I lured her into my bed. It was a tasteful experience all in itself. I took it upon myself to make her my regular. I smiled when we met up at night, and eventually, she fell in love with me. I started to feel uneasy after that, but it took no time for me to start to feel the same way about her.

“I know what you are,” she pointed out one night.

I started to feel nervous when she said that, for fear of being exposed.

“And what am I?” I asked, feeling myself sweat a little.

“You’re a vampire,” she said, nonchalantly.

“No, I’m not,” I said, just as nonchalantly, though you could hear a hint of fear in my voice.

“Why are you lying to me? You’re my love. If you were, I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

I thought about that. What if she actually did? People would hunt me down, and kill me. If she could get them to believe her. Would she put me in harms way like that? I don’t know…

“No way I’m a vampire..” I said, not taking my chances.

“Okay,” she said. I could hear her disappointment in her voice, for she knew I was lying to her.

“Alright,” I said. “I’m a vampire. You caught me.”

“I knew it,” she said, flashing me a smile. “I knew it, cause of all the bite marks on me. Can I see your fangs?”

I started to feel uneasy. There was a very small chance she would tell someone. I felt like I was in some deep shit.

“Please don’t tell anyone. They would kill me,” I said.

I saw fear and worry rise in her face. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I love you too much.” She smiled a genuine smile, and I saw she had no intentions of telling anyone. I smiled back at her, and we went to sleep together.

The next morning she was gone. I felt like something wasn’t right. I soon realized that she was a spy, for people in suits showed up shortly afterwards. I was killed for my heinous past. Now, I’m a ghost, and I stalk her for all she had caused me. Without her knowing… Until I can strike.

4

Relentless Intruder

There just so happened to be someone in my room that night. At first, I just turned over in my sleep at the sound of rustling. Then, I barely opened my eyes to see a dark shadow going through my things. I froze up so suddenly, and just pretended I was asleep. What the intruder wanted from me, I had no idea. I rendered up enough courage to sneak out of bed ever so quietly, and grab my pocket knife. He turned around and saw me before I could get to it, though. I guess he sensed it.

I ran out of the door, and into the rest of the house. I lived alone, and it added to paranoia. I ran out of the house, and to a neighbors. The whole time I was waiting on them to answer the door I was checking over my shoulder. I heard the engine of a car, and heard it swerve off.

The neighbor answered the door moments later, looking quite angry until she saw the startled expression on my face.

“What happened?” she asked.

“There was an intruder in my house,” I said in a fear stricken voice.

“O-Okay, let’s call the cops,” she stuttered, obviously scared.

She invited me in, and she called the cops for me.

They arrived 10 minutes later.

I made my statement, but because it was so dark, I didn’t get to see what he looked like. There wasn’t much to go by. They assured me that they would do their very best, and then they left.

My neighbor told me I could stay the night at her place the rest of that night. I gladly accepted, and she let me sleep in her guest room.

I went about my day the next day.

I saw what the person was going through. It was my information. I feared they knew all about me. What if they strike again?

They never did, however, but I always got paranoid at home alone in the dark ever since that dreadful night.

5

Anything Can Happen

Hanging her head in shame, the young girl grimaced tears back, but they fell anyways. She looked at her humble father laying in the hospital bed with an ever-so weary expression upon his face. She knew he hadn’t much time left, so spending it with him is what she had hoped to do. She had regrets about not being there when he needed her most throughout his whole depressive state. He looked at her, as if he forgave her, and just smiled weakly at her, gesturing her to go to him.

“Have faith. Soon, I will be walking in the streets of glory,” said the older man, maybe in his late 50’s. She gasped in uncontrollable tears, feeling it necessary to tell him she was sorry.

“I’m sorry, Father. I know I should have been there for you in the past, and now it’s too late to be there for you.”

“No, my young girl. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever putting you through it.”

Tears fell in a flush for their regretful actions. Their regretful behaviors. She held him, and kissed his hand very gently, for fear it would break him. They shared long talks, and then he was gone. He would never be there again.

And this bothered her. It bothered her so bad that she, a year later, just shut down. She never spoke to anyone, and eventually, she took her own life.

It had been years, but her kid brother still remembered. He followed his heart, and pursued his dreams. Smiling down upon him, was the family that he lost, and they were very, very proud of him.

Then… Out of the midst of nowhere, he had a car crash, killing himself and his wife and kid. He never even saw it coming. The drunkard swerving on the road was going so fast. Blood splatters were everywhere, and the scene couldn’t have been anymore graphic. They were crushed, inside and out.

The truck had basically crushed their tiny car. They were dead on spot.

Anything can happen. Suffering is a part of life. Are you the one to understand that?

6

A Dead Flower

A flower bloomed confidently in the sunlight. A big, beautiful flower that shunned all the other flowers. A healthy eyesight of pure joy it brought among the other flowers. That big, confident, beautiful flower represented a squeaking clown with a squeaky voice. That squeaking clown was loved by all her peers. In their eyes, she brought along great joy, and feverish compliments that was a pure sight of happiness.

However, that squeaking clown had a secret. That secret brought along heartache and pain to one victim. A discrete girl who used caution with every step she took because of how much suffering the clown had caused upon her unfortunate soul. That girl went by the name of Judah.

Judah was the quiet type of girl. Shy and misled by much of her peers. She was told that the clown was nice, and that she should befriend her.

Wasn’t that a lie. She wished she had never met this so called squeaking clown. It turned out that the clown was just a big bully. When she first encountered this clown, the girl thought to herself ‘Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to ignore my social anxiety’, however, the squeaking clown started showing signs of abuse.

She started to endure heartache beyond that point, causing immense inconfidence when she started bullying her. The clown’s name was Silvia. Silvia didn’t want people to know. She wanted to be known as god-sent, so to keep Judah quiet, she made it known that she would ruin her name if she ever uttered a word to anyone about it. Even her parents. What Judah didn’t know was that with speaking up about it, she could ruin Silvia’s reputation.

Anger built up inside of Judah since day one, to day 100.

Impudent with a scowl, Silvia mocked Judah, calling her names, calling her gross.

“You’ll never amount to anything,” Silvia laughed with her, in all honesty, squeaky and annoying-to-the-ears voice.

Judah quickly demised a plot to hurt Silvia. She had to put a masterpiece together in order to scare off the clown.

“You should go die, you worthless-” Silvia was cut off by looking at the pocket knife in Judah’s hand.

“Shut up and go away, you annoying snob,” Judah smiled wickedly at Silvia. “Or I’ll be amused to cut off your nose and feed it to you. I’m sure you would like THAT taste.”

Silvia scurried away from Judah, and avoided her for the rest of her life. She never once told anybody what happened. And thank God she didn’t, or Judah would have really done something.

Judah lived out her days happier for sticking up for herself. But Silvia was scared of strangers, which served her right.