Halloween Horror

The Hunger

"Kid's awake again..." Vince mumbled as his slumber was disturbed by the shrill cries of his newborn. "Carla....kid's awake." He grunted, rolling over to give his wife a gentle nudge of 'encouragement' to tend to the angry baby girl.

The empty sheets told Vince that Carla was already up and seeing to young Natalie.

"Carla?" Vince said, poking his head into Natalie's dark room, her wails growing louder. "Carla, you in here?" Vince said a it louder as he walked over to the crib.

"There, there, now...it's o.k. Daddy's here." he said, scooping the infant up and cradling her in his burly arms. Natalie squirmed as he held her close to his chest, her wailing growing ever louder.

"Hey Princess, what's wrong?" Vince said, his brow furrowing as he started to become concerned. Maybe she was sick, he thought.

"Oh, she's not sick..." Carla said from a dark corner of the room. Vince jumped, startled, and turned to see his wife....her eyes glowing an eerie red color. She sat in the rocking chair in a corner of the dark room.

"Carla?" Vince said quizzically. His eyes growing wider as hers began to glow brighter. "How did you.....I didn't say...."

"No, you didn't have to. I heard your thoughts. I always hear them. You're a sick man, Vince...you and that hooker secretary of yours. You're always proving what poor tastes you have in tramps!"

"Now wait a minute, Carla, there's nothing going on..."

"Spare me", Carla said as she smiled, "things will be taken care of....very soon."

"Isn't that right, my little darling?" Carla cooed to the child in Vince's arms.

With that, a low growl came from Natalie and, when Vince looked back down at her, he gasped as her eyes glowed that same, reddish, hue. She opened her mouth and, instead of a cry, a crack of bone came from her as long, sharp, serrated looking teeth filled her tiny mouth.

Those teeth were the last thing Vince ever saw as the 'newborn' struck as quickly as a cobra. Quickly and thoroughly, she tore large chunks of skin and muscle from her 'father's' face as he quickly dropped in a heap. Her tiny fingers like talons now, gripping into his skin for purchase as she began mauling him....chunks of flesh being devoured...almost, as if, drinking in his very soul.

"There, there...", Carla said as she moved out of the shadows. Her lingerie unable to hide the goat-like look her legs had taken on and her cloven hooves clattered on the old, hardwood, floor. She stood and watched as the child gorged herself on her father's flesh and blood. Hungrily. Greedily. As if she hadn't eaten in a long while.

She picked up her daughter, whose eyes were glowing even brighter now...a satisfied smile on her face. Cradling her to her chest, she gazed down into those eyes, smiling, now showing her own rows of serrated teeth.

"Another found unworthy, it would seem. I hope he won't give you indigestion. It's alright, though, you shouldn't have the hunger for a few more years now. By then, you'll have a new daddy...." Carla trailed off, smiling.

"....and, hopefully, he'll have better.......taste."

A loud, soulless, laugh filled the house.

IWSG for October 2012

Well, here we are again. The first Wednesday of the month and that means it's time for another installment of the Insecure Writers Support Group. Conceived by Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh, the IWSG is an exercise in expressing things about your writing that you're just not all that comfortable with. I've been participating since June and have found it to be pretty therapeutic. It's also nice to visit other writer's blogs and see that a lot of us aren't so different from one another.

This month I'd like to talk a little about social media and blogging.

These days, my main source of 'social media' is over at Google Plus. It used to be another outlet that starts with an 'F" and ends with a 'K'. No, it's not a four letter word....get your minds out of the gutter. The answer, as if you didn't know, is Facebook. I post a lot....some would say an obscene amount....to my Google Plus stream, as opposed to Facebook where I'm lucky if I log in once or twice a week.

Regardless, though, it's not the medium that, sometimes, causes the insecurity....it's the message. I always wonder if the things I'm posting are....

1. Interesting enough.
2. Relevant enough.
3. Getting the point I'm trying to make across.

Sometimes, on G+, I'll get a ton of comments on a post when I expected next to nothing and vice versa.

Now, how does this apply to my writing? I always wonder if what I'm posting makes sense. If it's structured correctly. If I'm even using proper grammar. Thankfully, the built in spell checker usually saves my bacon on spelling errors, so that's one less thing I have to worry about. Before I set out to get serious about writing, I wouldn't worry or care less about those sort of things. These days, besides content, it's always in the forefront of my mind.

The same holds true with blogging.

Basically....am I doing it right? It's rare that I get many comments on my blog posts....here or on my other, general purpose, blog. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Not that I'm expecting a lot of comments on my blogs. Those are for me and my writing.

For me, it's the writing equivalent of going to the gym.....I'm just working the writing muscle. I've even found that when I'm writing little notes, I try to make sure to capitalize and punctuate correctly. That sounds strange, I know, but it's exercise.

I think that, in this case, the insecurity can be a good thing. It keeps me 'on my toes' and forces me to, at least, try to keep things up to par, writing-wise.

The way I look at it these days, writing is writing so why not do it the best way I know how?