Imaginary Friend

Herbert looked at himself in the mirror. He was changing. Unlike his best friend Amelia, who grew taller and older with the passing seasons, he was still the little boy he had always been, just a little more transparent. Amelia was the only one that could see him when he first arrived, but it seemed now more and more he was becoming invisible to even her.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown



The vulture that was work did not notice his downward spiral and inward screams of pain, instead carried picking away at what was left of his battered and bruised carcass. “One day,” he thought as the last remnants of his sanity evaporated to nothing. “I’ll look back and ask myself ‘was it worth it?'”

Today can be summed as: Standing precariously upon an old wooden chair, the hangman’s noose around my neck. The sun shines and a gentle breeze kisses gently my face, though my mind is too focused to appreciate it. Any minute now an unseen foot is going to kick away the chair, and as I swing within the last throws of life I’ll think, “What a lovely day!”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Blind Date

It’s been several years
I was young and foolish
Impetuous and even more naive
But I craved the fortune
Expected the glory
I desired to be the best of them all

So a pact I made with a daemon
One I had no intention to fulfil
And when I failed to keep our wager
Like a wolf to lamb he tracked me down

To fight had been quite useless
His skills I could not match
He beat me down
And did so with ruthless glee
Close to death he claimed his winnings
He took my sight then set me free

For years I sought no vengeance
Honed the senses I had left
To move with grace like flowing water
Though darkness shroud me learn to see

Now time has come to face my daemon
And though he took what was his to take
I’ve lost the need for fame or glory
Just the romance to be my best
So I’ll meet him in the darkness
This blind date we’ll court in hell.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word/Genre Challenge #9

Word (s) is: Overly full wine glass. Genre: Murder Mystery.

The Party for Sinners

The body was that of August Pennyfeather, an eccentric recluse who limited his contact with the outside world to an absolute minimum. So why, on the eve of his death, had he requested six complete strangers to his home via personal invitation?

Had one of these invited guests arrived with a motive for murder? With suspicion rife and accusing eyes looking in all directions, just who did provide the fatal blow that robbed their
host of his life?

The first suspect was a rather rotund young gentleman, rosy red cheeks and slick short straight hair. Dressed in a tailored three piece tweed suit, he cut a figure of gentry and wealth to excess. Though he had no recollection of ever meeting his host, August had seen him stuffing an extremely obscene amount of money into his wallet, whilst dismissing a hungry beggar on the roadside.

The second was another more rotund male, except one with less ambition on dressing well, as evident by his ill fitting shirt and trousers. Again he knew nothing of his host, though their paths had crossed one evening in a local restaurant. August witnessed his guest devour several servings of both the main course and desert, before then washing it all down with a overly full wine glass, its contents disappearing in one gulp.

Third was an average looking middle-aged woman, with the kind of face that could easily be forgotten in a crowd of two. August saw her upon the street yelling at a young child, her face flush red and hand smacking violently the back of the young one’s bare legs. Only stares from others brought her to stop.

A very attractive woman was fourth. Dressed to impress, her long blonde hair was plaited perfectly. It framed beautiful blue eyes, accented with makeup, and lips coloured a bright red. She was dressed immaculately, without a thing out of place. August’s encountered with her, was within a department store, surrounded by mirrors and about all the store’s assistants running back and forth, attending to her every whim.

Fifth was another female. She was beautiful in a way that only a select few would find attractive. Her face showed signs of surgical enhancement, with plumped lips and creases removed. It would be a safe bet that other parts of her had been altered also. The host’s encounter with her was standing in a queue at the bank. She had been discussing with another, her jealousy over the other woman’s nose, and that perhaps she should pay her surgeon another visit.

Last was a weasly looking gentleman with greasy brown hair that strangely matched his wispy short facial hair. The shirt he wore untucked from his trousers, sported a rather large stain, and rather than being a crisp white, was looking a dirty off white. He also gave off a musty odour that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. The meeting of August and he, was a rather brief affair. A simple sneeze into his hands, followed by them being rubbed upon a seat beside him on a crowded train. August stood for the entire of that journey.

Six guests, each portraying one of the seven cardinal sins, but where was the seventh? Was August Pennyfeather the missing sin? What or who had caused his demise? As accusing eyes continued to circulate the room, none had noticed that only one of the overly full glasses of wine had been drunk from.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word/Genre Challenge #7

As requested, the word is Axe and the genre Thriller.

The longest short walk

‘I really have to learn to say no,’ thought Amy, locking up the office for the day. Except it was more late evening by the time she finished the extra work her boss had asked of her.

She checked her watch, ‘9 o’clock again! Impressive.’

Her car was parked at the other end of the now empty parking lot, and so she wrapped her coat around herself and began heading towards her car. The night air was cold, but dry, her breath forming tiny plumes that made her look like a puffing dragon. Pursing her lips, she tried to change their shape.

As she walked, the sound of her heels on the asphalt made a repetitive clicking sound, and she became acutely aware that it was being matched by a much more dull, heavier footfall.

Fear began to engulf her thoughts, her breathing becoming more rapid and shallow. The warm plumes of air escaping her lips changed again. She was too afraid to look round, but quickened her pace without it appearing too obvious. She’d watched too many films where the dumb blonde had tried to run, only to fall and witness her own demise.

Her car was tantalisingly close, but so too were the mysterious ‘other’ footsteps. Her heart was beating inexplicably fast, as was her breathing, but she reached into her pocket and pressed the button on her keys to unlock the car. The four indicator lights flashed, illuminating the car park temporarily with an orangey yellow glow.

Closing her eyes, Amy reached out and placed her hand upon the driver’s door handle. A huge sigh of relief expelled from her as she opened it towards her. It was at that moment the blade of a huge axe slammed into her car roof. She screamed out in pure terror, letting go of door and for no logically explainable reason, she turned to see who had wielded the axe.

Her screams were heard by only one other person, his face unrecognisable behind a thick black woollen balaclava.

“Please don’t kill me!” she sobbed uncontrollably, as he removed the axe for where it rested within the car roof.

“I’m not going to kill you Amy. Not this time.” The attacker turned and walked away as she slumped to her knees, shaking and crying. uncontrollably. “Sweet dreams,” he finished without looking back, before then disappearing in the darkness.

Gently it began to rain.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word/Genre Challenge #4

For this challenge the word was ‘staircase’ (though I re-interpreted this as escalator) and the genre, Horror.

“There was a time when you used to look at me like that,” remarked Cheryl, her husband watching intently a young blonde as she walked towards them.

“I still would if you had a body like that,” he replied without looking away.

“My belly has been a cooker for our three children, my breasts a vessel for them to feed on, and let’s not start on the mess they’ve made downstairs.”

“Yeah Yeah. All I’m saying is you could tone a little.” He couldn’t help but compound the situation by smiling at her as she passed, then continue to turn so as to check her out from the back.

Cheryl muttered something under her breath that sounded complete jibberish, leaving her husband admiring the young female’s arse as it began to disappear down an escalator.

As he turned to catch up with his wife, a chilling scream came from behind him. It was a female’s scream, quickly followed by a multitude of others, and people shouting, “Turn it off! Oh my god turn it off.”

The husband ran to see what all the comotion was, only to stop dead in his tracks as he peered over the escalator edge. His stomach churned as he witnessed the horrifying and sickening sight of the young blonde being mutilated and torn apart by the escalator’s inner mechanisms. Blood and shattered bone littered the steps, as the the poor girl became almost unrecognisable.

Meanwhile, Cheryl smiled as she continued to walk away, taking the occasional opportunity to admire items in some of the shop windows.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word/Genre Challenge #3

Number 3 challenge as set on FB, to include a given word into a given genre.

The word was Locket in Thriller/Mystery


“Amy! Come and say goodbye to grandpa, he’s leaving soon.”

A little girl all dressed in black, tears in her eyes and sombre walk, emerged from a side room where she’d be hiding, avoiding all of the other strangers she didn’t know.

“Argh Amy,” said a frail old man, similarly dressed all in black, leaning upon a crooked walking stick. “The last time I saw you, you were but knee high to a grasshopper.”

She thought that an odd expression, given the height one must be in order to only come up to a grasshopper’s knee. She wiped away her tears, sniffed, and smiled for her grandpa.

“She looks just like her mum did at that age,” he said directing his comment at Amy’s father. “That’s a pretty locket,” turning back the conversation. “Have I seen it before?”

“Daddy gave it to me. It was mummy’s.”

The old man cut a look of disapproval towards his son-in-law. “That belonged to your great grandma. It was passed to your grandma, then to your mother, and now….” The old man paused.

“Now it is mine!” finished Amy.

“Yes my child, it is yours. But I would put it….”

“Come along dad, it is getting late and you know you hate getting caught in traffic.”

The old man was hustled towards the front door, leaving his sentence unfinished. Both Amy and her father waved as he left.

“What was grandpa going to say daddy?”

“Nothing sweetheart. Just forget it.”

“What happened to great grandma and grandma? We’re they killed like mummy?”

Amy’s father wrapped her up in his arms, and whispered soothing words so as to take her mind off death, her grandpa’s words, and the locket.

At that moment an elderly gentleman entered the hallway and greeted the pair,

“A lovely send off.” He nodded as a mark of respect.

“Thank you,” replied Amy’s father, extending his hand. “Forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

In reply the old man accepted the gesture, shaking hands surprisingly firmly given his advanced years.

“Mr Longstone, an aquantance of your, may she rest in peace, late wife’s great grandfather. And you must be Amy.”

Amy shuffled behind her father, clutching his trouser leg tightly as if this particular old man frightened her.

“She’s a little shy around new people.”

“Oh that’s okay, I must be going now anyway. Once more, my condolences for your loss.”

The old man opened the door to leave, but instead turned to take one last look at the pair of them, before then walking down the front path.

“Goodbye Amy,” he called out, but there was no response. Under his breath he continued, “I’ll be seeing you again soon enough.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word/Genre Challenge 

I opened up to my FB friends and family once again to offer me a single object and a genre in which to fit it in. First up:

‘Glitter Pen’ in horror genre.

The police had already cornered off much of the street, camera crews from every news network channel vying for a decent lead and/or good position as to film the ensuing events. Parents, those with children that attended the school, we’re being held helpless, distraught and afraid behind the barrier tape, each eagerly waiting upon news of their loved ones.

Within the assembly hall, hundreds of children huddled together shaking, wracked with fear. These were the fortunate ones. Throughout the remaining school lay the unfortunate. Children and teachers alike left where they had fallen, all with the words “You’re out” written in distinctive black and silver ink upon their forehead.

Mr Wallace was the last to fall, a hatchet blow to the back of his head. Kneeling over him, as his dying last breaths weezed from his lungs, a hooded figure scrawled the words upon his brow.

Once written, the figure stood in ominous calm, releasing the safety on two semi-automatic handguns. He had been just several feet from the hall doors.

“Stop! Put down your weapons,” came a voice from back down the hallway. The hooded figure turned.

The sounded of gunshots echoed loudly, followed by screams of terror from behind the closed hall doors. The hooded figure lay prone on the floor, blood seeping into a large pool from where they’d been shot. There was no lingering breath from this one.

With the murderer dead, the police wasted little time in evacuating the fortunate ones from the school, ambulance crews ready to assist those hurt or in severe shock, before then reuniting them with their loved ones.

Unnoticed amongst the eagerness to flee the scene of such horrors, a young male adjust his uniform so as to conceal a black and silver ink glitter pen.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Unlucky in Love

They say love can hit you at any moment, and that is exactly what happened to Lisa. He was tall, dark and mysterious, with a few rough edges that made him look all man. The only trouble was, he was dead! He had come out of nowhere and ended up sprawled across the windscreen of Lisa’s brand new car, which probably accounted for most of the rough edges….

Copyright: authorchrisbrown