Two Short Flash Fiction Horror Stories
03/09/2014 21:18
You can call me Percy Doore, or Vard�ge-I'm not sure who I am anymore, or at least at times so it appears; in Santiago, Chile, I was hospitalized a year ago or so (October, 2001),for a chronic neurological disorder, and here is what I wrote in my journal notes, and what took place, of which now I am about to reedit for posterity sake-and clearer notes, for those who wish to try to understand the mind, if not the second self:"I had undergone electrical stimulating a few days ago to my left temporoparietal junction ((otherwise known as: where both the temporal and parietal lobs meet) (at the Sylvain Fissure))-producing an out of body experience, which manifested a double-walker (or otherwise crowned as, Vard�ger/doppelganger) horror books download. To be frank and honest, or as truthful as I know how to be-it was as if my ghost, my double stepped out of me, out of my personal space, although this other person was a younger me by forty-years, and there I lay, motionless, as he stumbled about and stretched as if from a long sleep, just awakened. I should mention-at least in passing: it was as if I had an evil double that laid dormant in a grave, stimulated, I asked its name, "Vard�ge," is all it said, arrogant and smug. Thus I had met my own-so called ghostly double."That night I had a nightmare, and the nightmare came about, in the morning. My double mused at me in my hospital room, as I recovered, walking about, strutting, and had placed the morning paper alongside my bed, opened to the second page, in the left hand corner read, "Mysterious person burns the Quran," and a picture of me on the paper, but of me when I was twenty-three years old, and there I am on a rooftop of some building with several books of the Quran, with a match in hand, torching the books.
" And my double said, "A little revenge for 9/11," and laughed. Again I was amazed I had met myself, and started to think: what next?"This now being our second meeting, he said to me, as if in passing, "Until Death reunites us (meaning my physical death)I will walk the earth, as you, without a middle name, for there are two worlds of life, it's just a matter of awakening the other; actually, it can be done simply by looking in a mirror and summoning me (or one of us, up),but then, it is like me awakening into a dream, you see me but for a flash, then I fade back into my underneath grave, kind of, the one that you will inhabit with me later on, and in due time, shed me like snake-skin, or own me like the half-devil I am. Behold, I am part of you-but kept at a distance for good reasons. But when you do such things as a direct current into my nervous system, you pull me right out of my second world to join you in forces, willingly or unwillingly."It all made me question my being alive. Now as I look in the mirror I see two faces. When I rest, and drink a glass of water, I can see two faces his and mine.
Call it an illusion of the mind, for that is where visions are made, but what we tend to forget as living beings, visions are real-into another world, one we own, and when we see it we don't always recognize it, even though they vanish. It was at this time the ghost of me was becoming more real than me, so it seemed. What he was going to do next, I couldn't phantom, but as time passed-I came to realize more and more, he really was my second, and as long as I seen that face-here and there, in reflections, I knew I was alive-although I'd never see him again-in the waking world that is, evidently, he did not want to be paired up with me, I suppose, lest he be reminded of the good side of life-which was against his nature, like a drunk doesn't care to be drinking with a person trying to sober up, to no avail. (Reedited, October 6, 2010)"Note: Written 10-6-2010 (No: 690)Stock-still (Aboard a cruise ship in the Waters of the Drake)It is not far from the truth had I changed instinct for reason in my youthful days that I'd be long dead now. Yes, indeed, instinct, the natural gift of animals living within nature. For often I have been benumbed and humbled by the functions of the mysterious, and at times hardly able to move, and have survived all ordeals, yet this one time-I dare say, I was baffled-and that being a mild description of my emotions, I was literary shocked-I unbolted my cabin window to see what the disturbance was, "Rope. Get a rope!" a voice in the darkness said, as if someone was losing their strength.
Satisfied I had heard correctly I moved forward by this time, and the moaning sounds I had heard along with the cry for help, had faded sufficiently, to a less clearer quality, tone or tenor. As I looked out the window, downward, I saw a shadow shaking and quivering-piteously.In a pleading voice-the shadow, that had a shape of a person, that looked ghostly-a voice almost piercing in helplessness, which somehow didn't go straight to my heart, and affected me weirdly, still perhaps half asleep, I said "A rope, okay, I'll get a rope..." all the time assuming I was in a dream, if not a nightmare, thus finding myself-in spite of the dream, or nightmare-hurrying out of the cabin to the deck area, near in a run, behind me my wife calling, "Wait, stop a minute, you're having nightmare!""Where's some rope," I said to her, in near panic, grabbing a lifejacket instead and rushing to the edge of the ship."No, no!" yelled my wife, and I stopped 'stock-still!' instinctively.
Now catching her breath, and composure she grabbed me, pulled me back, my right foot over the edge of the ship, the Drake below me and 6000-meters deep of water. She was in a frightful fit, shivering in the October atmosphere. How heavy the atmosphere was with wet dampness, I just came to notice, a light rain, lit by the night lamp, called the moon and lights of the ship-I felt as if isolated at the end, and edge of the world, all around me water, it surrounded me, as I exhaled the intoxicating numbness, silently coming out of a fog, looking overboard for my phantom."You were dreaming," my wife told me, now fully awake, or seemingly so. Perhaps it was some kind of manifestation, I told my mind, but my mind wouldn't accept it. I now took it to be, reason over instinct. Why not I said, it's seldom I make such choices.
When I got back to my room, half naked, I became horribly cold, and my teeth chattered from the wet, I felt very awkward, I was thus, shutting the window, little by little my teeth stopped chattering, the warmth of the cabin-stole through me, and the influence of the quiet, humming of the ship, and my exhaustion put me to sleep as it all surrounded me, wrapped me in its shawl.When we arrived in Punta Arenas the next day, at 11:40 a.m., the sister ship to ours was already docked. A group of people were standing about talking, and looking quite serious. I suppose I am a practical man, so at any rate, my wife and I, went and asked what all the commotion was about, and one of the staff members, said-reluctantly, with stumbling words, "We're one passenger short."Written October, 5, 2010 (No: 689) bs
" And my double said, "A little revenge for 9/11," and laughed. Again I was amazed I had met myself, and started to think: what next?"This now being our second meeting, he said to me, as if in passing, "Until Death reunites us (meaning my physical death)I will walk the earth, as you, without a middle name, for there are two worlds of life, it's just a matter of awakening the other; actually, it can be done simply by looking in a mirror and summoning me (or one of us, up),but then, it is like me awakening into a dream, you see me but for a flash, then I fade back into my underneath grave, kind of, the one that you will inhabit with me later on, and in due time, shed me like snake-skin, or own me like the half-devil I am. Behold, I am part of you-but kept at a distance for good reasons. But when you do such things as a direct current into my nervous system, you pull me right out of my second world to join you in forces, willingly or unwillingly."It all made me question my being alive. Now as I look in the mirror I see two faces. When I rest, and drink a glass of water, I can see two faces his and mine.
Call it an illusion of the mind, for that is where visions are made, but what we tend to forget as living beings, visions are real-into another world, one we own, and when we see it we don't always recognize it, even though they vanish. It was at this time the ghost of me was becoming more real than me, so it seemed. What he was going to do next, I couldn't phantom, but as time passed-I came to realize more and more, he really was my second, and as long as I seen that face-here and there, in reflections, I knew I was alive-although I'd never see him again-in the waking world that is, evidently, he did not want to be paired up with me, I suppose, lest he be reminded of the good side of life-which was against his nature, like a drunk doesn't care to be drinking with a person trying to sober up, to no avail. (Reedited, October 6, 2010)"Note: Written 10-6-2010 (No: 690)Stock-still (Aboard a cruise ship in the Waters of the Drake)It is not far from the truth had I changed instinct for reason in my youthful days that I'd be long dead now. Yes, indeed, instinct, the natural gift of animals living within nature. For often I have been benumbed and humbled by the functions of the mysterious, and at times hardly able to move, and have survived all ordeals, yet this one time-I dare say, I was baffled-and that being a mild description of my emotions, I was literary shocked-I unbolted my cabin window to see what the disturbance was, "Rope. Get a rope!" a voice in the darkness said, as if someone was losing their strength.
Satisfied I had heard correctly I moved forward by this time, and the moaning sounds I had heard along with the cry for help, had faded sufficiently, to a less clearer quality, tone or tenor. As I looked out the window, downward, I saw a shadow shaking and quivering-piteously.In a pleading voice-the shadow, that had a shape of a person, that looked ghostly-a voice almost piercing in helplessness, which somehow didn't go straight to my heart, and affected me weirdly, still perhaps half asleep, I said "A rope, okay, I'll get a rope..." all the time assuming I was in a dream, if not a nightmare, thus finding myself-in spite of the dream, or nightmare-hurrying out of the cabin to the deck area, near in a run, behind me my wife calling, "Wait, stop a minute, you're having nightmare!""Where's some rope," I said to her, in near panic, grabbing a lifejacket instead and rushing to the edge of the ship."No, no!" yelled my wife, and I stopped 'stock-still!' instinctively.
Now catching her breath, and composure she grabbed me, pulled me back, my right foot over the edge of the ship, the Drake below me and 6000-meters deep of water. She was in a frightful fit, shivering in the October atmosphere. How heavy the atmosphere was with wet dampness, I just came to notice, a light rain, lit by the night lamp, called the moon and lights of the ship-I felt as if isolated at the end, and edge of the world, all around me water, it surrounded me, as I exhaled the intoxicating numbness, silently coming out of a fog, looking overboard for my phantom."You were dreaming," my wife told me, now fully awake, or seemingly so. Perhaps it was some kind of manifestation, I told my mind, but my mind wouldn't accept it. I now took it to be, reason over instinct. Why not I said, it's seldom I make such choices.
When I got back to my room, half naked, I became horribly cold, and my teeth chattered from the wet, I felt very awkward, I was thus, shutting the window, little by little my teeth stopped chattering, the warmth of the cabin-stole through me, and the influence of the quiet, humming of the ship, and my exhaustion put me to sleep as it all surrounded me, wrapped me in its shawl.When we arrived in Punta Arenas the next day, at 11:40 a.m., the sister ship to ours was already docked. A group of people were standing about talking, and looking quite serious. I suppose I am a practical man, so at any rate, my wife and I, went and asked what all the commotion was about, and one of the staff members, said-reluctantly, with stumbling words, "We're one passenger short."Written October, 5, 2010 (No: 689) bs
