Haunted MTL Original – The Eyes Have It – Victory Witherkeigh
“The Eyes Have It” By Victory Witherkeigh
“He’s watching me again,” said the little girl to her father.
Her father rolled his eyes. It was the same story every night for the past week. He and the kids sat down for a family dinner at the rickety, dining table with matching chairs and upholstery that was peeling away. Then came homework before he sent the kids off to get ready for bed. The little girl brushed her teeth, put on her white pajamas, and climbed into bed with no problems. After one in the morning, her father woke up to find a navy blue sleeping bag on the floor of their room.
The first time she showed up on the floor, her father almost stepped on her going to the bathroom.
“What are you doing on the floor?” he hissed.
“Someone is watching me from the window, daddy!” she cried hoarsely. She was so distraught, he rushed down to pull her in his arms to stop her from crying out.
“Honey, that’s not possible. We’re on the second story of the house…” replied her father as calmly as he could at two in the morning, “Your window only has a tiny ledge over the front door. No one could stand on that without falling over.”
“I swear daddy!” she cried, “It’s a pair of red eyes, and they’re watching me…”
Grumbling to himself, night after night, he got out of bed and took her back to her room.
He slowly flicked the shades up and down and pointed to the window.
“See!” he said, “There is nothing out there but the streetlight and the stars. No one is watching you. I promise…”
The man was beyond exhausted. He worked almost six days a week at the plant. As a lead manufacturing engineer, the time taken for product testing was extensive. If things kept failing at the plant, at this rate, he would be lucky to have a nap at the office.
The little girl pulled the covers to her chin as her dad flipped the light switch off again.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sound of her breathing. Rolling into a fetal position and away from the window, the little girl settled into a comfortable rhythm – inhale, exhale, inhale, etcetera. Drifting off, the smell of the fresh scent from the laundry detergent cocooned around her, warmed her lungs. The snores from her brother’s room echoed down the hall, masking the sounds of the girl’s window creaking as a dark figure once again set its red eyes on her pretty face.
The weeks continued this way until the father lost count of the little girl’s incessant cries of the “watchful red eyes.” He could not remember the last time he slept more than an hour at a time.
I just need a break, he thought, Just a moment to relax… A bit of silence… is that too much to hope for?
The only other time he felt this tired was when his son was still nursing in the early months after his wife passed away. Sighing to himself, he tried to get a nap before dinner. It appeared he barely closed his eyes before the sounds of an argument pricked his ears.
“Stop touching me!!,” yelled his son, “Dad… Dad! She won’t leave me alone!”
“He’s lying!” screeched the little girl, “I was trying to watch my show, and he took the remote. I just took it back!”
“No! You’re the liar! We all know you’re the liar… Just like how you lie about the red eyes watching you.”
“SHUT UP!,” yelled the father. “Both of you! Go to your rooms now. I don’t want to hear another peep from either of you until I call for dinner. Is that understood?”
The children stomped upstairs, pouting and scowling at one another as they reached their end of the hall. Both slammed their respective room doors as hard as they could, rippling their sense of indignation that dad had punished both of them. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes with a sigh, the man slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen to boil the water for the pasta dish he had planned for their meal. Setting the timer on the stove, he opened the pantry door to pull out the pasta sauce when a loud thud crashed over his head.
Damnit, he grumbled. What are they doing now?
Barreling up the staircase, the father saw the little girl’s door was open while her brother’s door was shut. He did not hesitate to barge through the door, yelling before he finished opening it, “What did I tell you two about being QUIET until I called for dinner?”
He was stunned by what he walked into.
His son appeared knocked out on the ground next to his dresser, the girl crying next to him, gently prodding him.
“I’m sorry! Daddy, it was an accident! I didn’t mean it! He wouldn’t let go of my book, so I let go first, and he fell…” the girl cried.
She did not finish that sentence before her father grabbed her arm and yanked her up off the floor.
“I am SO SICK of your crap,” he screamed at her, shaking her in his arms, “Why can’t you just be good and shut up?”
In a flash, he threw her aside, missing the crack as her head collided against the white walls, chipping the drywall. He knelt to check on his son and started compressions on his chest as he leaned his ear against his nose and mouth. Small movements of air worked against the stubble on his chin.
Ok, he thought, he’s breathing…
Gently, he lifted his son and placed him on his bed of Bob, the Builder. Turning, he realized what else he had done. The dark pool of liquid underneath the girl was soaking through the beige carpet.
“No…no… Not again…” he scrambled down to the floor, avoiding the sight of the unnatural angle of her head against the floor.
What should I do? How did I do this last time? he thought.
The smell of copper hit his nostrils, setting off a wave of nausea and dizziness. Flashes of a memory threatened to overtake him – another mistake he had pushed to the recesses of his mind.
The air seemed to disappear from his lungs as he began to look around for a towel or something to stop the bleeding.
Gotta move, gotta move.
It was all that flooded his mind as he started frantically covering the girl’s body.
***
“I told him you were here…I told him I wasn’t lying…” said the little girl’s ghost, eyes glowing a bloody red like the stains being cut from the carpet beneath her cold body.
“I know, sweetie,” replied the dark figure next to her, “I always told your dad he needed to be careful of his temper. It’s one thing we always fought about…”
“Who are you?” asked the little girl.
“Oh, honey…” the ghost said, kneeling to be eye level with her on the roof of their house, “I’m your mom…”
The little red eyes widened in shock, “Daddy said you went away to heaven!”
“Oh, no, sweetie! I would never EVER leave you if I had a say…” said the mother, “Your daddy was a bad man and took you and your brother away from me… I’ve been looking for you all this time…”
Their red eyes drifted back to the scene in the room as her little body was being dragged away.
“I don’t want to go away…” she whispered.
The mother reached around with her specter of an arm and pulled her closer. “Don’t worry, love. We will make sure your brother comes with us.”
***
The father came back to his son’s room, carrying a spare rug he found in the garage.
He was just about to set it over the hole of the missing carpet when he saw them, the red eyes his little girl had told him about all these weeks.
His body froze, lungs incapable of drawing breath as the memory flooded back – those same eyes accusing him of scaring her, of scaring the children.
Those eyes that told him he needed help, counseling after his stint in Afghanistan, that he wasn’t the same man when he got back.
Those eyes that once loved him.
Those eyes that filled with blood as the vessels popped when he squeezed her throat, shutting her up when she said she was leaving with the kids.
The same blood-red as he buried her under the foundations of the old house and took off.
He couldn’t even scream as the eyes were an inch away from his face now.
“Honey,” she said with a wolfish grin, “I’m home.”
Victory Witherkeigh is a new upcoming female Filipino author originally from Los Angeles, CA. She is based in the Pacific Northwest and is finishing her first novel. Victory has short stories published in literary magazines, Allegory Ridge titled, “HysterSister,” Bad Bride, titled, “Catherine de Medici,” and Thought Catalog titled, “I Didn’t Believe in Soulmates, But Here He Was,” respectively. She has her debut publication in a horror anthology, The Hollow Horror Anthology Book #3, for sale beginning May 2020 containing her fiction short story, “Passion,” under Breaking Rules Publishing.
So, as you may have noticed, we have a special fondness for spiders here on Nightmarish Nature. Well, they are kind of the spokes-critters for horrifying animalia, perhaps because they are so freakishly different from us. Or maybe it’s because I find them a little disconcerting for all that I try to take the “you mind your business, I’ll mind mine” approach, at least if they stay outdoors. Or just because I really like to draw spiders for all that I prefer not to find them sharing my home (though I’ll gladly take spiders over other bugs or mice or larger critters who didn’t get an invite).
Anyway, this segment is devoted to the largest Giants Among Spiders, as if you didn’t have enough to worry about already. And the top place is contested based upon body mass or leg length. Most of these are tarantulas, which globally take top place among the large arachnids.
Goliath Birdeater Tarantula
The Goliath Birdeater Tarantula of South America is the biggest brute of spiderdom, weighing in at over 6 ounces. They build funnel burrows and are known to eat birds (although rarely), mice, lizards, frogs, and snakes, but largely any big insects including other species of spiders. They have urticating barbed hairs that they fling at would-be attackers as an irritant to escape. And people even eat them after they singe the bristles off. Here’s a National Geographic video showing this spider in action, in case you wanted to see a giant spider take out a mouse.
Giant Huntsman Spider
And with the longest legs, we have the Giant Huntsman Spider of Laos, with a leg-span of 12 inches. Their legs have twisted joints and they move in a crab-like manner, which furthers their impressive appearance. ‘Cause they’ve got legs, and know how to use ’em. They prefer to live in underbrush and cave entrances. These are like the big relatives of their Australian cousins, which we’ve all seen online and developed a healthy aversion to.
Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater & Brazilian Giant Tawny Red Tarantulas
Next we have two more South American species: the Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater, which boasts one-inch fangs, and the Brazilian Giant Tawny Red, believed to be the longest-lived spider with a lifespan of up to thirty years. Both are in the tarantula family and have urticating hairs, a word you probably never read much before today unless you are in the hobby. So apparently South America is not the best travel destination for you if you struggle with arachnophobia, though I suspect you’d figured that out already. (I wouldn’t recommend Australia or Southeast Asia either.)
Face Size Tarantula
And finally the Face Size Tarantula, which has a very terror-inducing name reminiscent of the Face Huggers of Alien-glory. Anyway, these spiders have an 8-inch leg-span and live in India and Sri Lanka. They look kind of like big hairy wolf spiders with stripey legs, sometimes with pink and daffodil coloring.
If you enjoyed this eight-legged segment of Nightmarish Nature on Giants Among Spiders and their larger than life kin, please check out past segments:
So here is our last installment of our AI journey exploring the idea of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad wolf being one and the same. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva. Feel free to check out Part 1 and Part 2 of this exploration if you missed them.
A non sequitur I know, but I couldn’t resist. If you picked up where we left off you’ll get it.
Seriously?! Again with the cropped off head cop out…
Finally! That was a journey. And not even worth the result, in my opinion.
Anyway, here is a bonus montage I made out of a bunch of additional Red Riding Hood prompts for an article that never happened…
Prompts for Montage:
1.) What if Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf were one and the same being?
2.) Her wolf face peering out of her red cloak, fangs dripping with the blood of another victim, lost in the forest and never found.
3.) Little Red Riding Hood closes in for the kill, lunging from her red cloak, her wolf fangs dripping with blood.
4.) I am Little Red Riding Hood. I am the Big Bad Wolf. I am coming for you.
5.) Howling within, the rage sears forth from the red cloak, discarded in the deep woods. Red Riding Hood succumbs to the lycanthropy.
6.) Heaving breaths. Dripping blood. Red Riding Hood is not what she appears. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
7.) Her red cloak masks the fangs hidden below the surface.
8.) It starts with a long sighing breath. Waiting. The wolf within stirs.
9.) Red Riding Hood trembles. She succumbs to the lycanthropy.
10.) The wolf bursts forth from within. It takes over Little Red Riding Hood’s mind, her body, her being.
11.) Red Riding Hood howls. She is ravenous with hunger for blood. The wolf within has taken over. Mind, spirit, body. She feasts on the blood of the moon.
12.) Big Bad Wolf Red Riding Hood ravenous blood moon feast
13.) Blood moon beckons. I. Little Red Big Bad Riding Hood Wolf. Freedom howling night curse.
14.) Beware. Bewolf. BeRedRidingHood. Betwixt. Beyond.
15.) I pad quietly as the forest dissolves around me. Red Riding Hood and Wolf, one and the same.
16.) Wolf within howling dark recesses of the mind, Red Riding Hood lost
17.) Red Riding Hood HOWL wolf bane true existence polymorph within-and-without.
18.) Red howl Riding Wolf dark existence brooding within
So thank you for joining us on another AI art journey. You can still catch the last AI art journey on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And we continued to devolve, join us again next week for the final installment to see how this ended… And again, if you want to catch the last AI art journey, you can find it on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
