Welcome to the fourth story of the Spring Horror Collection for 2022, where Haunted MTL’s writers craft original tales of terror that’ll grow on you. Check with us all week for new stories.
They called him Harold, a ghost, really, who walked only when it was dark and crisp. The kids, like me, knew he lived by the river, but could never find where exactly he lived. There were some rumors that he was, in fact, a ghost, except for the strange things he’d leave behind, little artifacts of a monster we couldn’t understand.
His face was wrong, that’s what we all knew and agreed upon. However some kids said that he had ripped off his own face and stitched on a new one ever so often. Other kids said that a bear ate it in the night and it never healed up right. KAnd some other kds said that he was actually a demon and that’s just how demons looked. Kids said a lot to fill up the silence of what wasn’t known and what was feared, which happened to be a lot. Each new year was a new cycle of children and, thus, a new cycle of theories.
I was never a brave or outstanding child. I was fast enough for my height, but average all the way around. It wasn’t a shock, though, I came from average people in an average town. But for some reason, I was the only one who actually ever saw Harold, up close and face-to-godawful-face. Even though everyone, including my sisters, will say I’m a bullshitter, I’m not. Actually, I wish I were, but even now, years later, it still follows me on cold, damp nights. I can feel his sunken, white eyes and I wonder…
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It’s not exactly an exciting tale. I was walking home from band. I had my trumpet, it was already dark in the early spring night. The path I took only had the moonlight and a pocket flashlight my step-dad gave me for my birthday. I’d love to say that there was suspense, that he was waiting and stalking me, but it wasn’t that. It was a flash out of nowhere. He ran into me, fell right on top of me.
This is the part that’s slow-motion, though, because I can still see and taste everything. Crystal clear. He pushed into me – we fell. The flashlight landed to my side and he was above me. Suddenly, there was something wriggling in my mouth. It tasted-…God, like a toilet, like a rotten bag of Taco Bell after three weeks. I spat it out and couldn’t even scream.
I saw him right there, above me, making some squawking noise in surprise; his mouth was puffy and red, but shrunken back. Some of his jawbone poked out of the red flesh and was as white as the moon. His milky white eyes bulged at me in surprise. But that wasn’t what got me. No.
Part of his face was caved in, stripped of skin, but wet tendons swelled as he groaned in surprise. From the bits of putrified muscles and tendons of his face wriggled fat, bone-white maggots, dripping down like rain. Dropping down onto me and wriggling onto my skin.
I lost my shit. Completely. I kicked and flailed and ran so fast and far, before collapsing and vomiting until I saw stars. My step-dad went out but only found my trumpet and nothing else. I couldn’t even play after that, no matter how hard I was teased.
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Now it keeps me up for different reasons. I’m in my last year of residency. Myiasis. That’s the term. It’s rare. It’s painful. It’s a nightmare. Being eaten alive from the inside out; having the maggots incubate and grow inside you, just to have them eat their way through you. Your body breaking down, feeling them literally crawl under your skin…
Harold still keeps me up at night. I wonder how many monsters are created and how many we could save. How many are still suffering, and how many will continue to suffer because of stupid little boys and the tales that they tell…
When not ravaging through the wilds of Detroit with Jellybeans the Cat, J.M. Brannyk (a.k.a. Boxhuman) reviews mostly supernatural and slasher films from the 70's-90's and is dubiously HauntedMTL's Voice of Reason.
Aside from writing, Brannyk dips into the podcasts, and is the composer of many of HauntedMTL's podcast themes.
Wonderfully creepy. My friend’s cat once had a maggot burrow into her after she was chasing a rabbit down its hole. Apparently they congregate at the entrances to the burrows. It was a kind of nightmare all its own having to get it removed and then treating her against possible infection. Also the wasps that lay their eggs on spiders so that the young eat the spider from within saving vital organs for last weird me out. These things are not entirely as uncommon as some might wish.
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
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 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…
J.M. Faulkner
March 25, 2022 at 3:45 am
Googled Myiasis… I have to say… yikes
Jennifer Weigel
March 28, 2022 at 10:05 am
Wonderfully creepy. My friend’s cat once had a maggot burrow into her after she was chasing a rabbit down its hole. Apparently they congregate at the entrances to the burrows. It was a kind of nightmare all its own having to get it removed and then treating her against possible infection. Also the wasps that lay their eggs on spiders so that the young eat the spider from within saving vital organs for last weird me out. These things are not entirely as uncommon as some might wish.