HauntedMTL Original – 12 June, 1982 – Harry Fernando
12 June, 1982 by Harry Fernando
Shudder. A shiver runs down his back. Throb throb. His temples throb in a frenzy of anger. A buzz of excitement runs through his body. She shudders underneath him. Leaves crunch and twigs snap under the weight of their bodies. The fabric gives away in his hands, to soft flesh. Screams fill the air. Deafening. Shrill. Shut up! Shut up! No! He had stuffed handfuls of dirt into the mouth of the whore before. Grunt grunt. A hungry pig. Heâs crushing her small weak body. Soft. He doesnât bother freeing himself from his slacks. Soft. Weak. Weaker. Sheâs so weak. He laughs. Howls. Loud enough to drown out her shrill screams. Morphing. He howls like a beast. A God. A man. Mad. The Devil. Hungry. Insatiable. He is everything. Nothing. He is nothing.
âYOUâRE NOTHING! A USELESS LITTLE BOY!â the ugly old hag would scream as she beat him bloody. He lets out a guttural cry. Hot tears stream down his face. His fingers pull fistfuls of his hair in a primal desperation. He paws at the limp body beneath him. Spit spraying her plain pale pubescent face. Grunt grunt. His tongue against her cheek. Warm. He touches her chest. Soft. Pinching, squeezing and pushing down so hard he feels her brittle ribs crack. He wanted to crush her. His teeth graze her cheek biting at the soft flesh. Warm. Weak. Soft. Wet. Slippery. Pungent. Urine. She had started mewling. Weak. Small and pathetic. Weak. Weak. âYOUâRE WEAK! PATHETIC!âthe old hag would snarl. He snarled. He had her ugly scowl, her hot ugly rage. The soaked dress tossed, she lay bare under him.
Heaving.
Her ugly scowl.
STAB STAB!
The knife cuts her soft weak throat.
Soft.
The painted whore laughed.
Hard.
STAB STAB!
Again and again! Blood pours out a crimson velvet. Hard. He spreads her legs. Crotch against hers. Hard. Slashes across her chest blooming red. White skin sliced. Hard. She squirms. Warm. Warm. Heâs panting, moaning. Dry leaves around them are now soaked. Black. They look black. Moan. Sheâs beautiful, colored red and warm. His fingers digging into the cuts. Violating her flesh.
Her soft meat, like a sweet peach.
Her ugly scowl, a laughing whore, meek disappointment.
Throbbing.
Hard.
The knife cuts the girlâs flesh, he carves her face. Just for him. He peels her skin back like a split cherry. His mouth meets the gash on her check. Thrusting. His tongue in and out the warm gash. Thrusting. The knife in and out her soft stomach. Thrusting. His hips against her slack body. Hard. Hard. Grunting. He frees himself. Knife tossed, gripping himself, he stares down at his masterpiece. His. His. His. Throbbing. His body shakes. Shudder. Her eyes were wide open, staring, blank. Her face carved. Red spread over the pale white canvas of her body. Legs spread wide. The white of her inner thighs and the soft pink are unstained, untouched, unharmed. Grunt grunt. Both hands on her middle. Smearing the blood across her stomach. Up and down her body, fingers reaching into the warmth inside of her gaping bloody slashes.
Poke.
Warm.
Prod.
Wiggle.
Warm.
Moan.
Slippery.
Slide.
Grunt.
A wild boar.
HARD HARD!
Face buried the sticky slippery crimson wet.
Lapping at the bloody gashes.
Split cherries.
Wet. Oozing.
Grunt.
Moan.
Pant.
Oozing.
Shiver. Shudder.
HOWL!
Red.
Bursts of flashing white.
Black.
Red.
Grunt.
Grunt.
Grunt.
Handfuls of wet dirt and leaves soaked. A broad swipe of black across her torso. Mud on her face. A little woodland nymph. A bed of leaves, thorns. Her soft pink, cut, carved. Soft. Eyes wide, staring, accusing.
Her ugly scowl, a laughing whore, meek disappointment.
Grunt.
Slash slash! The blade slices. A soft pink oozes. An X carved on each eye. Boneless with release. He lay back down in the mess he made.
THE END
H. Fernando is currently completing her Bachelors in Arts and Social sciences, double majoring in Gender & Sexuality studies and Writing. As a horror enthusiast, she enjoys dabbling in disturbing oddities and unconventional narratives.
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.
And as promised in Big Bad Poetry, we shall embark on our next AI journey, this time looking at Little Red Riding Hood. I had wanted to depict her as the Big Bad Wolf one and the same, although maybe not so big nor bad. But it just wasn’t happening quite as planned. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
So I actually like this even better than my original vision, it is playful and even a bit serene (especially given the Sinister style). The wolf is just being a wolf. It’s quite lovely, really. But it wasn’t what I had in mind, so I revisited the idea later to see if I could get that result…
Well, that’s not quite right…
Yeah more of the same…
And as you can see this is starting to devolve quickly. Join us again next week to see how this continued to develop… And 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.
So considering my recent revival of a wolfwere and his Lucky Days and Nightmarish Natureâs hostile humanity, it seems we are due for a visit from Little Red Riding Hood, or perhaps even Big Bad himself⊠Here’s a poem on the subject by Jennifer Weigel.
Over the river and through the wood
flashed the fleet-footed Red Riding Hood
on her way to her âgrandmotherâsâ house.
When running past, who should she see
but just one of the little pigs three
cowering like but a tiny mouse.
âBut my dear piggy, what do you fear?â
Red Riding Hood asked as she slunk near,
teeth hidden under a sheepish smile.
The nervous small pig looked up in fright
and decided that Red was alright,
missing the subtle clues by a mile.
âThe Big Bad Wolf, that horrible beast
upon the other wee pigs did feast!â
the last little pig said with a squeal.
Red Riding Hood laughed with a great growl
and threw back her heavy long-robed cowl,
in a vast terrifying reveal.
For she was really the wolf Big Bad
hidden beneath the cape that he had
stolen from Red Riding Hood at point.
âAnd now Iâve caught you too my pretty
and surely tâwouldnât be a pity
if I gobbled you up in this joint.â
Tâwas then the wee pig leapt to his feet
And cried, âBig Bad Wolf, I shall defeat,
for I am no ordinary swine!â
The little pig also wore sheepâs clothes
spun in spells every woodland witch knows;
Old Granny herself was quite divine.
âNow give me back my granddaughterâs cape,
before I grab you by your ruffed nape
and send you pig-squealing down the roadâŠâ
The wolf dropped the cape and ran, that cur,
but Granny was swifter and hexed his fur
and the wolf she turned into a toad.
Thus the moral of this story goes,
when in the woods, no one really knows
what sheepish sheepâs clothing is a ruse
that big bad wolves and old witches use.
So this is actually an intro to my next AI art journey with NightCafe which developed from me not getting the results I wanted (Little Red Riding Hood herself as a wolf). Here’s a preview with Eric’s versions as he is much more literal in his prompting than I am, but where’s the fun in that? đ
Prompts (from left to right) in Dark Fantasy style, executed Aug. 1, 2023:
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak close up portrait
Bipedal wolf in red cloak close up portrait
Feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigelâs work here on Haunted MTL or on her writing, fine art, and conceptual projects websites.
