ANOTHER SHORT HORROR STORY
I have written lots of stories that are wholly inspired by a song (which means you can find the lyrics of the song in the story). And this is one of them.ONE OF MY TURNS By Pink Floyd
“Oh my God! What a fabulous room! Are all these your guitars?”
"This place is bigger than our apartment!”
"Ahm, can I get a drink of water?”
"You want some, huh?"
"Oh wow, look at this tub? Do you wanna take a bath?”
"What are you watching?"
"Hello?"
"Are you feeling okay?..."
Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man.
Night after night, we pretend it’s all right
But I have grown older and you have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more.
And I can feel one of my turns coming on.
I feel cold as a razor blade, tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum.
Run to the bedroom, In the suitcase on the left
You'll find my favorite axe.
Don't look so frightened, this is just a passing phase, one of my bad days.
Would you like to watch T.V.? Or get between the sheets? Or contemplate the silent freeway?Would you like something to eat?Would you like to learn to fly?
Would'ya? Would you like to see me try?
Would you like to call the cops?
Do you think it's time I stopped?
Why are you running away?
COLD AS A RAZOR BLADE
Dave’s car stopped in front of his luxurious apartment.
“Is that your house?” Alison inquired as she was going out of the car, her very fair skin glowed under the bright moonlight. He nodded. Alison was a hooker he picked up on his way home. She was pretty. She had round sad eyes. Her hair was long and dark. He led her inside the house and into his room.
“Oh, my God! What a fabulous room! This place is bigger than our apartment,” she exclaimed just as they were entering his room. He sat on a chair and turned the TV on. “Can I drink a glass of water?” she asked.
He did not say a word but pointed to where the ref was.
He glanced at the picture of Rachel on top of the TV set. She sure resembled Alison. Rachel, too, was a hooker she picked up on the street five years ago. He fell in love with her, he took care of her and spoiled her. He tried to live a normal life for her. But she left him for another man.
You’re asking me why I am leaving you? he remembered Rachel asking him, mocking him, as she was packing her things up. He lives in a palace and you don’t.
He wanted to run after her as she was casually walking out of their room, he wanted to grab her by the hair and smash her head on the the wall. He wanted her blood to spill on the floor so he could lick it up.
He wanted to kill her. But he could not. He let her leave.
He spent the next days planning to abduct and kill her. He could easily do it. He had been
stalking her, he knew her routine. He knew she was sleeping around, her husband did not.
Dave clenched his fists while his eyes remained glued on the TV. Night after night, he pretended it was alright.
“What are you watching?” he heard Alison asking him but he did not respond.
Nothing’s alright.
He closed his eyes. His head ached, it felt like it was being gripped by a tourniquet. He could feel his throat becoming dry like like a funeral drum. He glanced at his arms, his skin looked like the skin of a dying man. That was their curse, their skin turned grey whenever they're depressed.
“Hello? Are you okay, cutie?” Alison asked her.
He glared at her. He could see Rachel in her. Rachel again was mocking her. He stood up, picked the chair up and smashed the TV with it. Alison ran to the bedroom. And it was a mistake, it was where he kept his favorite axe. He followed her and grabbed the axe. “Why are you running away?” sarcastically, he asked her. “Don’t be so frightened, this is just a passing phase, just one of my bad days." He grinned. His jaw was starting to hurt. "I know how to fly, would you like to learn to fly? Do you want to see me try?”
“S-Stay away,” she begged.
“Would you like to call the cops? Do you think it’s time I stopped?” he asked her, his mind swirling.
“Is that your house?” Alison inquired as she was going out of the car, her very fair skin glowed under the bright moonlight. He nodded. Alison was a hooker he picked up on his way home. She was pretty. She had round sad eyes. Her hair was long and dark. He led her inside the house and into his room.
“Oh, my God! What a fabulous room! This place is bigger than our apartment,” she exclaimed just as they were entering his room. He sat on a chair and turned the TV on. “Can I drink a glass of water?” she asked.
He did not say a word but pointed to where the ref was.
He glanced at the picture of Rachel on top of the TV set. She sure resembled Alison. Rachel, too, was a hooker she picked up on the street five years ago. He fell in love with her, he took care of her and spoiled her. He tried to live a normal life for her. But she left him for another man.
You’re asking me why I am leaving you? he remembered Rachel asking him, mocking him, as she was packing her things up. He lives in a palace and you don’t.
He wanted to run after her as she was casually walking out of their room, he wanted to grab her by the hair and smash her head on the the wall. He wanted her blood to spill on the floor so he could lick it up.
He wanted to kill her. But he could not. He let her leave.
He spent the next days planning to abduct and kill her. He could easily do it. He had been
stalking her, he knew her routine. He knew she was sleeping around, her husband did not.
Dave clenched his fists while his eyes remained glued on the TV. Night after night, he pretended it was alright.
“What are you watching?” he heard Alison asking him but he did not respond.
Nothing’s alright.
He closed his eyes. His head ached, it felt like it was being gripped by a tourniquet. He could feel his throat becoming dry like like a funeral drum. He glanced at his arms, his skin looked like the skin of a dying man. That was their curse, their skin turned grey whenever they're depressed.
“Hello? Are you okay, cutie?” Alison asked her.
He glared at her. He could see Rachel in her. Rachel again was mocking her. He stood up, picked the chair up and smashed the TV with it. Alison ran to the bedroom. And it was a mistake, it was where he kept his favorite axe. He followed her and grabbed the axe. “Why are you running away?” sarcastically, he asked her. “Don’t be so frightened, this is just a passing phase, just one of my bad days." He grinned. His jaw was starting to hurt. "I know how to fly, would you like to learn to fly? Do you want to see me try?”
“S-Stay away,” she begged.
“Would you like to call the cops? Do you think it’s time I stopped?” he asked her, his mind swirling.
He then swung the axe and her severed head flew. Her headless body fell to the floor. Dave dropped the axe and thought of ways to dispose of her body after he collected her blood.
Next week, he would search the streets again, looking for hookers who resembled Rachel.
Wasn’t it sick? He wanted to see Rachel suffer and die but he was letting others to do it for her.
But he was a vampire, he was allowed some insanities...
He wiped the blood off Alison’s mouth with his finger, then he put his finger in his mouth, his fangs felt cold like a razor blade. He sucked the blood dry. It tasted sweet.
When he got tired of adoring Rachel, when he finally fell out of love with her, he was going to kill her for real… e n d
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