Innocently he mistook the look in her eyes as passion and lust.

“I want to drain your life giving fluid from you,” she whispered softly.

The reality of the truth hit him like a bullet to heart as her teeth sunk into his neck and she began to drink.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


A dark story of history repeating

A male child, born with no given name, to a mother than cried heavily at the mere sight of him. He was forever a contanst reminder of his father that forcefully planted his seed within her virgin womb before disappearing into the depths of night, leaving her shivering and broken. What chance did this child have when even his mother found the sight of him abhorrent? She couldnt love and nourish him, and so he found himself abandoned to the mercy of whoever could.

He was named Samuel by the elderly woman that would call herself mother, though he refused to accept either. He fought her love, rebelled against the sanctuary of homeliness she’d created for him. The years of his growing were a constant struggle, and yet she refused to abandon him as his mother had. Even when his school refused to educate him she stayed at home in order to school him.

He resented and despised her, and yet with each passing year an infatuation grew within him. There was something within his DNA that compelled him to obsess over being around her at inappropriate times. He would spy through the keyhole as she undressed, and yet would refuse to join her at the table come tea time.

It was upon a random evening late in the year, rain lashing down upon the panes of glass and the occasional flash of lightening illuminating the otherwise dimly candle lit room that he appeared before her as she was in a state of undress.

Instinctively she cowered away, covering any exposed flesh from his unblinking eyes, and yet he reached out and pulled at her night blouse. As she fought his advances, sharp nails scratched her breasts drawing crimson lines across them. Crying in shock and pain she could do nothing as he exposed them, his hands gripping tightly the area directly around the nipple.

As the tears rolled heavily from her heartbroken eyes, and her requests for him to stop went ignored, he forcefully pushed her backwards onto the bed. She knew what was coming next, and yet was unable to stop it. Pain soared through her body as he entered her. Emotionless he satisfied himself within her as she sobbed uncontrollably, her clothes torn and blood flowing from the wounds received as reward for her attempting to resist.

He said nothing as he left. A dark figure disappearing into the depths of night, leaving behind a broken elderly woman whose womb began preparing for the unwanted gift she’d been given.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Word / Genre Challenge #1

Write a horror that includes A Red Bikini Top.

The trail up to the mountain lake was, in places, rough going with rock and boulder obscuring the route completely. Many a hiker had been known to have wandered too far from the trail and as result require rescuing.

“This better be worth it Sam,” panted his long suffering girlfriend breathlessly.

“You’ll love it babe,” he replied, hopping over a large boulder from view. “The water is crystal clear.”

Laura sighed and struggled on in pursuit. Several minutes later she caught up with him staring at a piece of clothing hanging from a tree up ahead.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A red bikini top I think.”

“Great! Someone beat us here.”

“Someone topless!”

Sam received a swift punch this upper right arm, Laura not approving of the excited tone in his voice.

“Come, it’s just over there.”

The two made their way to a viewing spot, the clear tranquil waters of the lake sprawling before them.

“First one in’s a chicken,” shouted Sam as he discarded his clothes, semi running towards the water’s edge.

“Sam, there’s no one else here,” replied Laura, a nervous hesitation in her voice.

“Come on the water’s lovely.”

Throwing caution to the wind, she stripped down to her bra and knickers before joining her boyfriend in the water.

“That’s not fair!” he remarked, splashing her with a handful of water.

“It’s all you’re getting,” she replied returning the soaking.

It was at that moment an eerie mist began to creep across the surface of the water. The sky darkening and rain begining to fall.

“What the hells wrong with this weather. This wasn’t forecast.”

“Sam!” cried Laura. “I cannot move my legs.”

Sam thrashed as much as he could to reach his beloved, only to find he too was stuck fast.

“I’m scared,” she continued to cry, trying desperately in vain to free herself.

In a split second, from thrashing in the water, she disappeared as if being pulled under by something below. Sam screamed in horror her name. There was no reply. Moments later he too disappeared below the surface.

* * * * *

Months after the unexplained disappearance of the two lovers, several young teens stood staring at a tree in the distance.

“What is it?”

“Looks like a bra!”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown



So I just read post on Facebook that deeply offended me, but then also had me questioning my own past views.

A young woman posted about her recent experience using a well known dating app and a response she received from potential, or so she thought, connection. It read along the lines of, “Sorry, I could never go on date with you as, at best, you rate as a 6. Ad I am an 8, obviously I’m looking for someone equal or higher to my rating.”

First of all, who rated him an 8? Secondly, if I were to be objective, I’d score her higher than a 6. However, beauty is subjective. What one finds beautiful is not always seen the same way by another. Using this guy’s rating mechanic and his goal to date equal to or higher, what makes him think a 10 rated woman would want to be seen with a 8 rated male?

The whole thing is preposterous! Beauty is very much within the eye of the beholder and should not be subjective to a dumb ratings method.

I’d like to think I’ve rejected the chance of a relationship based on compatibility, not because of looks alone.

Thoughts of: authorchrisbrown


Picture Challenge

I walked what seemed like hours in the darkness
Taking re-assurance from the texture of uneven bark between my fingers
The trees, some three times my age, guided me
Like an old man holding gently the hand of his grandchild
I walked towards the light that hung in the air like some ghostly apparition
With a beauty most haunting it gave me chills
Was I heading towards salvation from the colour of the night
Or a prelude to my own eternal darkness

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Web Master

He led her to a picture perfect representation of your stereotypical haunted house. Run down and derelict. Even the weather was causing a kind of ground fog that added to the spooky vibe. So why then did she follow him side?

The air was musty, and everything was covered in a blanket of dust, giving the impression that no one had lived here for years. The ceiling was covered in what at first looked like cob webs, but they were damp and in clumps like seaweed. The place sent a shiver down her spine.

“Are we supposed to be here?” she asked with nervous suspicion.

“Of course,” he replied whilst gesturing with his hands and bending his fingers.

At first she was unsure as to what he was doing, but it wasn’t long before she noticed the ceiling webs moving to his commands. They were dropping in long strands, then making their way back up again.

“Okay you’re freaking me out now,” she said turning for the door. “I’m going to leave.”

With a swift downward swipe a large clump of the wet unknown mass fell upon her knocking her to the floor. He stood over her smiling, moving his hands so as to control in some way the heavy weight that was pinning her down.

“What are you doing? Please! Let me go!”

“I can’t do that,” he replied with a sinister tone. “The family are yet to dine.”

No sooner had the words left his lips, he gestured to the ceiling once more. A large beetle type insect began to lower itself upon a strand of the web moving to the commands being given until it was lingering an inch above her right inner thigh. The short skirt she was wearing offering ample amounts of exposed flesh.

“Why?” she cried out. “Why are you doing this to me?”

With a snap of his fingers, the beetle lowered the final distance, sinking its twitching mandibles into her skin causing her to scream out in searing pain. No sooner had it bitten, he gestured for it to return to the ceiling once more.

Within minutes the wound began swell, blisting with a milky white fluid clearly visible beneath. The same milky white as the wet clumps on the ceiling. Moments later the wound exploded sending a stream of the web like strands up onto the ceiling, also causing her to scream in pain once more.

“Embrace it,” he smiled. “Your sacrifice is giving birth to new life.”

Her screams became much louder, much more full of fear as she could do nothing but watch as another beetle began to descend towards her face.

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


Sordid Affair 18+ NSFW

The drive home from work was long and tiresome, the rain made visibility poor adding to the increasing sense of an impending headache. I was ready to kick off my shoes, pour myself a scotch and settle down within the embrace of my loving wife. Upon opening the door I was confronted by unusual silence. Normally there would be the sound of her awful taste in music, or some reality show she’d been watching. I kept my shoes on and entered the living room, where both the stereo and TV were off. Instead, sitting on the coffee table was my laptop with a post-it note stuck to the screen. I simply read, “I know”.

Turning on the laptop I was confronted with a series of pictures, some more increasingly risqué than others. She’d discovered my one secret, and I feared the outcome. Searching the drawer of the side unit presented me with even more emotional fear. My gun was missing. If she knew who was in those photos, then that was where she’d be. I ran from the house and drove without care for the road conditions or the level of visibility. My only thought was to reach them both.

*   *   *

“That’s the bra in this photo!” she screamed throwing both to the floor. “And that’s the one in this one.”

“I’m sure there are hundreds of women with exactly the same ones!” replied a second woman, begging on her knees.

“Oh and I suppose those same women just so happen to have the same vibrator as well do they?” The gun was pointed now directly at the kneeling woman’s head as she sobbed uncontrollably.

*   *   *

When I arrived the front door was wide open, a sure sign something was wrong. Inside and I heard the recognisable screams of abuse coming from my wife, interspersed with another sobbing. I ran to the master bedroom where they both were and flung open the door.

“NO!” I shouted at seeing my wife pressing a gun up against the temple of my lover.

“Well there’s the admission right there,” said my wife turning the gun upon me. “Get naked the both of you!”

My lover and I momentarily looked at each other, then began removing out clothes.

“On your knees,” my wife demanded, gesturing where she wanted me with the gun. “Now you, suck his cock!”

My lover hesitated, more from shock than disgust at what had been asked of her. The gun nestled back in her temple soon had her obeying her command. I tried not to allow myself to be excited, but her warm wet lips around my shaft was too much. My lover must have figured that if this was how she was going to die, she’d make the most of it, as her tongue stroked across the head of my cock, before the sliding down the shaft as it hardened down her throat.

“Now bite it!” whispered my wife in her ear. “Bite deep until his blood begins to fill that cock sucking mouth of yours.” She pressed the gun a little harder into the side of her head as a way of telling her what would happen if she didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed as her teeth sank into my erect shaft. Blood immediately began pouring from where they’d punctured the skin.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum in her mouth!”

Satisfied with the level of pain I was enduring, tears now filling my own eyes, she barked her next instructions,

“Now fuck her!”

My lover stood and positioned herself on the edge of the bed, my blood still dripping from the corners of her mouth. I was surprised to see that she had been aroused as I had, her shaven pussy glistening and inviting. As I offered by still bleeding cock, and her lips devoured it, the pain was unbearable. The burning sensation tore through my body as I slowly fucked her.

“Harder!” came the command, and so through gritted teeth I fucked her for all I was worth. There was no passion, no lust. I just thrust that cock deep inside her until natural events took over and we both climaxed.

“Now suck her breasts!” demanded my wife. I leaned down from between her legs and took one of them into my mouth. “Now bite it off!”

“NO!” I said pulling myself away. “You can hurt me all you want, but I won’t hurt her.”

“Too bad!” she replied, pointing the gun and shooting my love in the head.

Blood splattered the walls, as her body convulsed with the impact, before dying almost instantly. I screamed her name as rage, anger and sorrow consumed me, then a feeling of numbness overwhelmed me. My sight began to fail as I slumped heavily to the floor, deconstructing events in my mind as to why the pain and hurt had left me. There was another gunshot, and I watched as my wife fell to the floor, dropping the gun in the process. Nothing seemed real, was this some kind of twisted nightmare. Everything went black.

Through my heartache at seeing my lover ripped from me, I’d missed the second bullet. The one that now ended this sordid affair.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


Night Visit

First, there was nothing.

Then there was pain, like a knife cutting deep into the very fabric of my chest and moving down towards my stomach. My eyes flung themselves open but I could see nothing. Everything was black.

I felt my insides being twisted and pulled, as if my very core was being removed by unseen hands. The pain was now unbearable and my eyes closed drifting me away to nothing.

Time passed in limbo, feeling and sensing nothing. Then my eyes opened.

I was in bed, in my room. Just as I remember before falling asleep. There were remnants of sweat on my brow and a dull ache in my chest. I looked down to see nothing but a very fine scar, about the width of a hair running the full length of my body.

What had happened? How had it happened? Was I awake in a dream or dead and remembering? Outside it was still dark, and I’ve never been more afraid of it than I was right then.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown