(transcription obtained from Catherine Hider’s audio diary)
The soul force I once had abandoned me at this fastidious hour, dragging my hope and persistence with it. Helplessly I pursue this demand until the end is accomplished, for the importance of perseverance supersedes mere intent, honors the family that I, Catherine Hider, had intended to raise with Joseph Hider, my late husband, that his soul may rest in peace.
We got married at the age of twenty, we worked hard for our careers, we laid the foundation for what our family should be, and, conscious of the stability that we considered essential, we desired to have childrens! «Five» He had insisted unaware of the burden that I now know perfectly well that it is being pregnant.
Don’t misunderstand my words, because this is a blessing that I carry proudly and every day I thank for it in my prayers. «Getting pregnant after the age of forty-five? My dear, everything in this life has a period.»Dr. Mitch Barker would tell me, labeling me for my age and repressing me, but I would recklessly pursue my intention: before my beloved departed with tuberculosis, last year, he had left three deposits of sperm in cryogenic conservation enabling my fertilization.
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The abdominal pain is horrible. I understand that they are natural, but in my case they aren’t stings or impressions, nor localized… They’re the reason for another valiums…
The first two «attempts» to get pregnant failed poorly. Keeping myself convinced of my intentions I kept fate at what I knew in my heart to be the will of God, our Lord. I was meant to carry the seed of my lover, to perpetuate our family name, and now that I know you’re a boy, I decided to name you Joseph Jr Hider, in honor to your father.
As I was saying… God demanded so on the third and last opportunity the artificial insemination was successful.
I don’t have the strength to get up, I get weaker every day… Every hour that passes… When I started to develop the first symptoms resulting from the protective psychosis of you, I bought a cat: for company and to hunt the plump rats that invaded our house three months ago. People say they’re attracted to the odors and hormones of pregnant women, but I have another theory that based on their size of such specimens I would say they had come from Sundsvall, Sweden, where they recorded the proliferation of giant rats over five feet. However, and since I don’t want to wake up with one biting my toes or the tip of my nose, I got this faithful companion, to tell you the truth I kinda feel sorry for him because the poor thing is about the same size as the invaders. which makes it difficult.
Talking about him, I see that the food bowl is constantly empty, but I can’t remember when was the last time I saw…
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This pain is a martyrdom, it seems you’re in such a frenzy.
My dearest, this record will be the inheritance that your dear father and your beloved mother will leave for you, along with this house, as well as the Corvette ZR1. However, I don’t know how long I can remain lucid and able to convey the legacy of this family of ours.
After having the good news about this pregnancy, I spread the word among our families so that they could celebrate this historic milestone, yet I never thought they were all, without exception, capable of such hostility. Their withered minds couldn’t understand this «obsession» with your father.
Do you believe this?
It was our dream to give you an united and welcoming family, as your father would wish, but to be honest with you, in this world we’ll be alone only having each other, nothing and no one will have meaning in our lives. Surely I can assure you that you will always have my eternal support…
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If only you could ease, I could get some rest. I have never been pregnant, captive of inexperience I fear that something is very wrong, conditioned by the intensions of others I avoid from seeking help, whether from family or medics, that I foresee the resolute resolution to this agony: abortion, and this I reject in honor of your beloved father and by the word of our Lord.
I live in a dilemma between the need for peace and the sagacity of your will to live; you have been notoriously restless, agitated, so I put my hand on my belly to feel you kicking effusively. Splendid the determining umbilical relationship between a mother and her offspring. However, all this liveliness has had its consequences, chronic pain and permanent nausea that have been spewing acid spurts straight from the stomach. I woundn’t solely blame you, that with the blessing of pregnancy comes nauseas, of course, but I also think that it’s related to a stench that has been emanating from the kitchen since yesterday. I’d say it’s a rotten vegetable-like smell mixed with urine and putrid meat. If I had to guess, I’d say I left the fridge open, and it thawed and the contents went bad.
I’m so weak that I can barely reason and report this events to you my love.
Finally I had some sleep, after all it was three vallium in less than two hours. However I feel disappointed, because I wake up and see that I will have urinated in bed during my sleep, an unprecedented event on my part, especially since I have no memory of when this happened before and for the last time. But no smell at all of urine.
Now that I think about it, I wonder how it is to be where you are, surrounded by amniotic fluid in a sack, in fetal position, quiet, and under a blessed sleep.
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I’m starting to get slightly worried about Gosby. I forgot about the formal introductions, the little cat I was talking about, do you remember? It’s Mr. Gosby, do you like it? I gave it that name in accordance with the name with which your father’s first dog was nicknamed.
Well then, I still don’t know anything about him, but since I woke up, I caught a couple of glimps from a slim silhouette, that I bet it was a rat. I immediately lit both lamps, both mine and your father’s.
I want these plague infected animals far away from us!
I don’t know if I should, but I’ll say it anyway. It was a week, if my memory doesn’t fails me, after Mr. Gosby came to live with us that I woke up one night at dawn, and there were two rats, no exaggeration of the size of our hosts, between my legs, between the covers and my nightdress, staring with those insanely evil red-eyed. Nervousness and stressed I kicked and screamed, immediately Mr. Gosby came to my salvation, you should have seen how wild he was with those disgusting things, so much so that he still managed to bite one, the weakest and slowest, that restricted to his jaws, struggled and wrestled him. tearing off part of his upper right lip. Poor thing, with a wound like that I had to disinfect and treat itgave him an anti-inflammatory that soothed his pain.
I was very proud of him, and most of all, confident that it was a good decision to get him to live with us and guarantee our safety.
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It was a long time ago the last time since I listened, almost forgottening, how shrill the squeals of those rodents were. I don’t know if you can hear it on the tape, but here at home is a horrifying cacophony.
I feel that you are very active, I don’t know if it connect to the annoyance of these monstrosities, or by the intention of getting out of me. According to my calculations will be missing less than a week. I still have to get the energy to bring the phone to the bedside table in the case you want to get out, so I can call for an ambulance. It’s decided, it’ll be the first thing in the morning, as soon as the sun rises.
I don’t know how… What is…
Calm… breathe… breathe… breathe… breathe…
I came from the kitchen now, couldn’t reach the phone or the cell phone, returning back to my room with my soul tormented. I don’t know how I can… I have to tell you the truth, Mr. Gosby died, rather, was killed. Those creepy things were devouring him, or rather just gnawing at his bones because, except for the fur, little or nothing was left of him.
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The smell actually came from there, from this disgusting scenario.
Before escaping I still managed to grab a knife.
Now that I’m more awake I suspect that something not right with me, or with you my dear Joseph Jr., for taht I smell a strange smell coming from my pubic area, something like urine and wet hair. No doubt something is very wrong, I see you moving incessantly inside me, several bulges in the belly moving at the same time.
After all these rats were bigger than I thought… Much bigger than the victim they devoured… They are on the bed, at my feet, motionless looking at me… I’m sprawled with my arm outstretched pointing the knife at ‘em… The other hand massaging you, but the pain is unbearable…
I feels like you are tearing me apart…
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Dilatation started… or simply…
Finally I see you… Or what’s left of you… After all you weren’t alone… You were never alone, even without family, you had others who were your company… The brood is finally in the company of their parents… Damn rats, they had the affront of devouring your remains even at my feet… Most abominable animals… Now they chew the umbilical cord… Umbilical!
They’ll stop only when they finish what their youngs started inside me…!
(end of transcription)
My name is Valter F. Machado, a writer of novels and romances, short and flash stories, mostly named by me as “Creepie Stories”. Lurking through the swamp’s mysteries, the hopelessness of horror and the blackness of deep insanity suspense. Check out my social media to know more about me and my work.
A serene mountain landscape yawns; monumental evergreen trees fingering a brilliant azure sky stroked with wispy clouds. The air is crisper and fresher here, wafting its piney fragrance along the meandering deer path that bends and swerves down the gradual slope…
-Reset-
-City-
A bustling urban environment beckons, its diverse, brightly-clothed denizens laughing with one another, casually parting as you stroll through their midst. Sunlight dances through the crowd, reflecting off of towering buildings, cars, and bicycles. Sounds swell together as though breathing life into all interconnected within this rich tapestry of time and space. The street is a cacophony of alluring smells, and the savory scent of kosher all-beef hot dogs…
-Vegetarian-
Fragrant cumin zing of vegetable samosas…
-European-
Perfume of freshly baked baguettes embraces you in a warm hug as you sit at a small metal café table, savoring an espresso…
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-Caffeine Free-
Lavender cremosa…
-Non-Carbonated-
Limonade…
-Reset-
-Beach-
The warm sand squishes between your bare toes as the soft ocean waves lap at your feet, beckoning you to wade further into the cool water…
-No Swimming-
The woven rope hammock stretched between two perfectly-spaced palm trees sways slowly as you lounge in its cradle, sipping a Mai Tai…
-Non-Alcoholic-
Iced lemonade in a highball glass through a red plastic straw…
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-Eco-Conscientious-
Paper straw, the citrusy elixir providing respite from the steamy…
-Less Hot-
Warm breezy summer…
-Spring-
Spring air, children…
-Nature-
Birds…
-Silence-
You close your eyes, hammock gently rocking you to slumber.
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We here at My Universe wish to thank you again for choosing our services. We know that there are many post-cataclysmic alternative realities available, and we appreciate your business. Please enjoy your respite from the societal collapse, and remember us next time you need to unwind.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. And if you really feel like getting away and helping clean up the beach a bit, check out this relaxing video from Dylan Clark titled Seagrass. Or maybe that wasn’t so relaxing after all… 😉
Somehow I came across an older Midnight Panther comic book, Feudal Fantasy #2 from the late 1990s to be precise, and I thought I’d reappropriate it into a new story as a collage. Anyway, this is what evolved. Honestly there wasn’t a lot of content to work with, but that isn’t surprising seeing as how that wasn’t really the point of the original… And sorry, I saved the erotic bits for another project, though even that was pretty tame in this one – just a bunch of boobies.
Images: Black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men in various states of undress, looking cute, being coyly pensive, and hack ‘n slashing.
Text reads: I like… men who are dying. We ought to just kill everyone involved. The scent of blood!! I never see his face, he always wears a mask. What a waste of time. I don’t like this. The horny bastard. What a pig!! -Slash- Sounds like it could be fun.
Images: More black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men kissing and hack ‘n slashing.
Text reads: Mercenaries of glorious Edo, if you can make the flowers that bloom along the rivers during spring drop their petals, then do so. I’m the Ferryman of the River Styx. Whssh.
You can’t beat the deals. So many of us. Waiting. Readying. Checking the time. Counting down the seconds. You better believe I earned my place at the start of the line. I’ve been camping out here since late Wednesday. Yeah, yeah, the holiday was yesterday. Whatever, I had my family’s full endorsement.
Because that new high-definition television beckons. The best in zoning out technology. All channel access. Cutting edge entertainment. Bleeding edge. That blade is sharp, baby. Like a razor.
But this kind of escapism is costly. A reality check says it’s not in my family’s budget. We don’t make that kind of money, and so here I am. Among all the others vying for the same prize.
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Only one will get there first. Only one available. Must have TV. Must have T.V. Must. Have. T. V.
An employee approaches the door. Nobody noteworthy. A soon-to-be-casualty. No more. No less.
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