HauntedMTL Original – Thyme Well Spent – Italia Fields
Jimbo here — Oh boy, do I have one for ya. From my editors, this quote says it all: Do I think we should publish it? Yes. It’s dark and weird as fuck. I loved it. Unique and unsettling. The writer achieves a lot in such a short piece. You won’t forget reading this piece.’
Thyme Well Spent
Inside of an incubator, my child lay. I poked through the holes to rub her soft curls. Her hair, thin and cottony, the color of earth, wrapped around my fingers gently. When I pulled back, a single thread remained on my finger, and I stood, searching for a way to be rid of it. My hand found a solution by placing it on my tongue. I licked my lips.
She wailed. I smiled.
===
At 6, she decided to be a tree, enjoying how they could touch the sky. To achieve this, she took a brush and slathered paint to her head. I watched her, giggled with her, and even took to painting with her. Her mother was not very pleased with our artwork.
Her hair was curly and spattered with green, the color of thyme I had told her. Whenever she dashed past me or rushed to give me a hug, I had to suppress myself. Every part of me wanted to run my hands through her curls, feel them twine and retract around my fingers, as I pulled them away from her face and let them snap back into their pristine coils. I frequently had to remove myself, giving a brief “I need some air” before exiting the room and sprinting away, wherever to calm myself, lest my excitement show, and her mother remove me from our lives.
One night, however, after the clocks had struck twelve and I had woken from a nightmare of police finding me with the Thyme, I gave myself to such bliss. Knowing that her mother had started to catch on, I snuck to her room and snipped off a lock of her hair, tucking it into my pocket as a keepsake before I needed to flee. I placed my lips on her forehead, knowing I couldn’t stay in this home, not with her here, not how I felt. As I left, I found myself frozen in the doorway and turned to look at her, basked in moonlight. I took the shears and delicately, snipped off another strand, this time holding it to the light. The moonlight, reflecting off of her emerald locks enraptured me, and before I knew it, I had swallowed the entire strand.
When her mother came to get her in the morning, she found her bald, and me, with a mouthful of thyme.
===
At 16, she was taken from me. Not through a custody battle, after all I had lost my role as her father ten years prior after her mother discovered me. No, her reckless friends, the fools, drove under the influence, taking my darling Thyme with them. I wasn’t allowed at the funeral; not that that would stop me.
That evening, when the sun had fallen and the sky glimmered with constellations, I found her plot and dug. I wasn’t aware of how frantic my digging came until I was three feet below. I needed to reach her. Needed to see my Thyme, in its, her, final state. I needed to see how her cheeks lost their luster and how her hair was desaturating. I needed her, in my system, needed her to remind me of what I had lost by giving into my gluttony and consuming what was in front of me.
I hit her mahogany coffin. The clunk echoed through the night, a sound only I and the nearby crickets could hear.
I brushed off the dirt, digging wildly with my hands, earth staining my nails as I dragged the leftover soil off of her. I pried her coffin open, revealing her face, once again, illuminated by the moon rising above us. I cackled, seeing her hair, my Thyme, spread out across the coffin in messy streaks, and brought my face to it, inhaling deeply. I held the shovel over my head and plunged it down, separating her locks from her head repeatedly. When the shovel couldn’t separate more, I used my hands, digging wildly into her flesh to separate the follicles from her scalp. When my fingers did not suffice, I used my teeth, biting into her skin and yanking off hearty chunks of meat from her skull, to get as close to the source of her thyme. I ate, tendril upon tendril, like a man possessed.
When I had eaten my fill, I looked to the sky, seeing the red and blue flashing lights illuminating the opening of her grave. The officers approached me, and I threw myself on top of her, not wanting strangers to intrude on our moment. Of course, I was pried away; five officers used their combined strength to remove me from her grave. Wildly I screamed, desiring nothing more but to go back, to pet her hair and taste her thyme as only she possessed. My cries reverberated through the night, eerily reminiscent of the wails that occurred on the day she entered the world.
When I peer into her coffin for the final time, my eyes wild with fury and indescribable pain, I saw her face, smiling back at me.
Italia Fields is a playwright, screenwriter, photographer, and aspiring filmmaker. She has a passion for writing horror and comedy – often combining the two. She is a senior at Coe College double majoring in Creative Writing and Film Studies. She currently resides in Chicago, IL. “Thyme Well Spent” is her first fiction publication.
Those religious icons really get around. This time it’s a journey to visit the Deep Ones. And Dracula’s Castle. Because everyone has to be a tourist now and then, and what’s the point if you don’t pick up a souvenir or two?
This was a gift for a friend for their sea life monster theme bathroom. It started as one of those old school wood plaques where the picture is waxed on. And the eyes were originally that creepy – all I did was add the tentacles. So don’t blame the overall weirdness on me, it wasn’t all my doing.
Oh, and apparently Mary wanted in on the action, so she’s gone to Dracula’s Castle for a bite. She even brought back her own religious icons souvenirs…
So this one isn’t as old, nor is it real wood. But it still totally goes with Mary’s journey. And it’s also a little blacklight reactive with the flowers.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
So I just keep on going… Here are some more repaint porcelain figurines and other madcap painting. OK maybe some of them aren’t porcelain, but still totally redone.
This Pennywise clown started as some plastic figurine from Italy. I was drawn to this because of the pretty marble base. It’s a nice touch, don’t you think? I’ve seen others in this series and honestly they’re all kind of creepy to start with, so they really lend themselves towards repaint prospects. Perhaps I’ll pick up more to redo in similar ways later on… Oh, and the eyes are blacklight sensitive, in case he wasn’t creepy enough already.
With all of the new movie hype, I couldn’t resist a throwback to the classic Beetlejuice, and this little bride figurine and teddy bear were just too perfect. Featuring more blacklight sensitive accents, like her veil flowers. And I don’t know why she only has one glove, I blame it on the 1980s… Or maybe she was just that drunk (you’d have to be for that wedding)…
So yeah, all those preppers ready for the zombie apocalypse – you know some of them are gonna get bitten. It’s in the script, what can I say? More blacklight eyes, cause why not?
I admit I haven’t seen this film, but it sure looks fun. Mathilda, eat your heart out. Literally.
OK so this isn’t a repaint. Nor is it porcelain. What is it even doing here? Well, she’s cool and ready for a party and kinda reminded me of Abigail, so she sort of just tagged along. Sexy Sadie started as an Avon perfume bottle with a fragrance I didn’t care for (I think it was called Head Over Heels). Because honestly the bottle topper was all that mattered. And now she has her own disco dancing platform. What more could a vampish vixen want?
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
I wrote this script for Beyond the Veil awhile back, exploring the bond between two twin sisters, Edith and Edna, who had lived their lives together. There was a terrible car crash and someone didn’t make it. The other is trying to contact them beyond the veil…
Beyond the Veil Setting:
Two women reach out to one another individually in a séance setting.
One sits on one side of a dining table. The other sits at the other side. Each studies a candle just beyond her reach; there is darkness between the two candles. The long table is barely hinted at in the interstice between the two but it is clearly present.
The camera is stationary showing both in profile staring through each other.
The women are both portrayed by the same actress who is also the voice of the narrator, who is unseen. All three voices are identical so that it is impossible to tell which of the two women the narrator is supposed to represent.
Both women are spliced into the same scene. They are together but apart. The two candles remain for the duration of filming so that the two halves of the film can either be overlapped (so that both women appear incorporeal) or cut and sandwiched in the middle between the candles (so both women appear physically present). It is possible to set the scene thusly using both methods in different parts of the story, with both women seemingly flickering in and out of being, both individually and apart.
Script:
I. Black, audio only.
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
My sister didn’t make it.
II. Fade in to the long table with two lit candles; flames flickering.
Two women are just sitting at either end.
They stare blankly through each other.
Call and Response
Edith: Now I’m trying to contact her…
Edna: …beyond the veil.
Simultaneous:
Edith: Edna, do you hear me?
Edna: Edith, do you hear me?
Together (In Unison):
If you hear me, knock three times.
Narrator:
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Call and Response:
Edith: I miss you terribly.
Edna: I miss you so much.
Edith: Do you remember…
Edna: … the car crash?
Edith: We rolled…
Edna: … over the median.
Edith: There was fire.
Edna: There was smoke.
Edith: I could hear the sirens.
Edna: They were coming…
Edith: … to rescue us.
Edna: But they were so far away.
Edith: So far…
Edna: … away….
Simultaneous:
Edith: Are you okay?
Edna: Are you hurt?
Together (In Unison):
Knock three times for yes. Knock once for no.
Narrator:
Knock
– pause –
Knock
– pause –
Together (Syncopated):
What’s it like, on the other side?
– long pause –
Simultaneous:
Edith: I miss you, Edna.
Edna: I miss you, Edith.
Together (Syncopated):
It’s so lonely here.
Call and Response:
Edith: There’s no one here.
Edna: I’m all alone.
Edith: Without you…
Edna: …the spark of life…
Edith: …is gone…
Edna: … so far away.
– pause –
Together (Entirely Out of Sync):
It’s so dark.
III. Fade out to black
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
I didn’t make it.
I had planned to actually turn this into the video for which it was written, but quickly discovered that my plans for recording required a space that was too drastically different from my new house (and new large gaming table) and that my vision for filming could not be well-fully executed or realized. So now it exists as a script only.
And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.
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