Cursed by Fire Cursed by Stalker #horror #art

 

horror week

 

If you look at the contrasts of the two artists (Bosch and Kubicki), you see many. One is black and white and one is color. There’s alot of movement in Bosch‘s The Harrowing of Hell as well as symbolism in this rendition of Hell.  Do you hear the flames licking at the pleading souls? People are looking for an escape from the worst part only to find a new horror.

There is a different kind of horror in the Kubicki something akin to an inability to run. Look at the strands of hair; they closely resemble glass broken at a harsh angle. Is there a way out? No! Is the skin drying out (starting to melt) from a similar heat?

Symbolism in art is rich. As you look deeper you will see more even if you wish you had not delved into the dark.

 

Follower_of_Jheronimus_Bosch_-_The_Harrowing_of_Hell“When the Birthday boy or girl doesn’t blow out all the candles in one breath, they get the Candle-Curse.”

“And the remaining flames act as a doorway from Hell where demons escape to exact their dark deeds upon the failed candle blower,” Barney explained, speaking in a campfire spook-story voice.”…

…Dustin dreamt of fire…

…A hot and hungry blaze tore through the house. He was upstairs at the table, watching. He stood motionless, petrified by the sight of demons leaping into his world through the flames. His spine froze and he shivered despite the rising heat around him…

… It reached out a hand, stopping the upturned fist inches from Dustin’s face. Slowly unraveling its fingers, the demon revealed a single candle, standing straight in the palm of its hand.

~Tyr Kiernan is a regular writer for Pen of the Damned. His short story Anti-Wish can be read in its entirety here.

 

blog http://tyrkiernan.com

Twitter: @tyrkiernan

blood drips

 

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… the portrait you drew is beautiful. The careful way you have rendered each fine stroke of my eyelashes and hair. My eyes are large dark orbs, the light in them extinguished. The drawing stares back at me from the page, frail and petrified. It is as if I was really there before you as you drew me. You have captured it well, that is how I feel. But there are a few things about me you are yet to glimpse.

I have left it for you here, this is where we part for now. By the time you enter the warehouse I will be gone, slipping away into the dark maze of the city, far from you…

And then you will finally find her, over by the wall, bound to a chair with heavy tape. Will a scream, sharp as a razor, catch in your throat?…

…With a face lift and a short dark wig she looks just like me, don’t you think? My scent on her body now. I dressed her in the lingerie and dress I wore when you first saw me. I thought you would like that. The first time you singled me out from the crowd, the first time I felt the suffocating weight of your gaze. Yes, our time is coming soon. We are destined to meet, as both you and I know. But not tonight.

 

~ Magenta Nero is a regular horror writer for Pen of the Damned her story Black Widow  is featured this week. Please check here for the entirety of the short story (Stalkers)  that is excerpted above. 
Blog: Magenta Nero – Dark Fiction Author
Twitter: @Magenta_Nero

 

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Find Tyr on Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many thanks to Jarek Kubicki who has graciously allowed me to put his art with the horror “pieces” this week. His book (below) comes out in 4 days!!!

 

kubicki book

 

No End to the Moon Dance #haiku #moon

craig-w-clough-rock-island-illinois-full-moon-reflecting-on-water

 

kono tsuki o imachi nemachi to yubi o ori

should this moon be waited for by sitting or lying down …? I calculate with my fingers

- Sujyu Takano (1)

by moonlit waters

memories caress the shore

blue moon dance

*

casting a pebble

blue waters ripple outward

smile reflection

 

Prompt at Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem:  Moon in the Haiku Tradition ( yes a favorite subject).

Art Craig Cloug Moon Art

I Need a Transfusion #halloween #poetry #horrorweek

re-made fuseli_nightmare

 

 

Suspended above the clouds

captive of a swoon

what magician’s trick

 hung me by the moon

life leaves me in sleep

celestial I drift

all Hallow’s calamity

my blood forever drips

blood drips

 

 

DRIP, Drip, drip…

silent as the dead

the jack-o-lantern jeers

fear we now instead

notes that gave a tip

to get inside our head

wiggle with our fears

more we have to dread

a new report we get

she shot twice in the head

little ones are dear

no hallows – early now  to bed

 Zodiac killer rips

a community is fed

killings through the years

we can only hope you’re dead

blood drips

My first poem was written before Susan put up the completion for the Poet’s United prompt: The real story what is Halloween to me? To many of us who were in the San Francisco Bay Area- Halloween meant the Zodiac killer might be on the loose. I was trying to compose a short story about this killer and what it was like as a child growing up with a killer on the loose for years. The Zodiac serial killings is a cold case; the man killed 20 (or more people) and would send chilling notes through the newspapers making his threats.

blood

horror week

 

This painting is a remake of  Henry Fuseli’s Nightmare. I normally couldn’t do this to art but everyone else tends to mess around  with Fusseli.

Please forgive my theatrics- I am having way too much fun with blood this week.

And while the blood drips why not follow the grim reaper in catching some horror book giveaways over at Coffin Hop!

coffin-hop-2014

 

Grave Silence #art #horrorweek #horror

horror week

I’m taking a moment to listen to the voice and the meaning of the two pieces of art. Do you hear it – The sound that is not allowed to escape the confinement of the box?

Munch gives it away in his title “The Scream.” I remember studying this piece by Expressionist Edvard Munch several times and having to make an educated guess about what was behind or in front. I personally hear footprints approaching the subject. In this work by Kubicki, there is a visceral scream that emanates from the pieces of the body that remain and the shadowy screams from what has been taken away. This piece reminds me of the opposite of Michelangelo’s captive where man is trying to escape the confines of the marble. This man (or woman) is being made a captive by what… a horrific parasite? Enjoy the words that you don’t hear and then read the words of  Jon Olson and Hunter Shea.

decaying woman

 

“Let’s see you live through this, asshole,” Michael whispered in the Erwin’s ear.

With that he tilted Erwin’s head back and cut deep into his neck.

Erwin gurgled and blood gushed out. Michael held him for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of taking another man’s life until Erwin went limp. The gurgling slowed and then went silent…

…I can’t remember how many times I’ve died; how many times I seen the light, reached out to accept its embrace only to be pulled back into this fucking existence so that I may die again.

I have felt the pain that the body goes through as each internal organ shuts down. I have felt my heart stop more times than I want to remember. My body has been stabbed, crushed, and shot many times yet somehow it always heals itself.”

 

~Jon Olson is a regular writer for Pen of the Damned. Go to PEN to read Phantom Pain in its entirety.

Jon’s Blog:  Monster Lane

Twitter @jonolsonauthor

You can also find Jon’s work at Siren’s Call Publications.

 

 

 blood drips

scream

 

I needed light. It was impossible to face the ghoul in the dark. My spirit wavered between bravery and death by panic. I fumbled around the desk until I found the matches.I struck one against the desk. It sputtered for a moment, then fizzled out. The sounds in the corner stopped. I could feel the ghoul’s penetrating gaze cut through the dark. I grabbed another match, and with unsure hands, tried again. The match stick broke in half, falling to the floor. Clack, clack, clack, clack. Those odd footsteps again. Now a gurgling sound, a bubbling death rattle of a cry.

“Please, dear God, help,” I whimpered as I reached to pick out another match.

My cry was answered, as my thumbnail flicked across the match head, a brilliant flame roared to life. And in that same instant, I wished I’d never brought light into the parlor.

“Lucy!” My doll, my porcelain companion, stood on two small legs, leering at me. Its face had turned a mottled green, and bloody teeth sprouted from a mouth that was never designed to open…

 

…“It was the demon in Jessamine. It became a ghoul. When it left Jessamine, it hid inside Lucy. You can see it, right there!” I screamed, pointing at its lifeless body…

Hunter Shea is a writer for Pen of the Damned. He has several published works of horror. To read his short story Mercy  in its entirety go here.

Hunter Shea’s Blog 

@huntershea

 

 

 “Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye…it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.” E.  Munch

blood

 

Hunter Shea Hell Hole on Amazon

The Montauk Monster on Amazon

hellhole

 

montauk-monster-cover

 

 

So grateful to Jarek Kubicki for allowing me to use his art for Horror Week. It is exceptional art. I’m excited for his book release in 5 DAYS!!!

kubicki book

Before the blood dries why not take a spin around this year’s Coffin Hop. Plenty of book giveaways!!!
coffin-hop-2014

Horror’s Diva #horrorweek #art #fiction #halloween

horror week

 

I’m looking at the art I selected for today and realizing minimal and horror works. The use of a few shapes, three or four colors, or primary colors can speak volumes as in these two pieces One by Polish artist Jarek Kubicki and the other by German painter Edvard Munch. If you think about cinematography, dark lightening heightens the senses and muted low musical tones creates an edginess.

Do you hear the woman gasping as she throws her bloodied face back? I think the bit from Craig McGray fills in her gurgling whispers. Her draping dripping necklace infers blood dripping off her nexk. It’s a great desperated effect that Kubicki has created. (

Munch’s painting “Two Women on the Shore” ,  do you feel the black figure prodding the girl forward into another world? Do you see innocence contrasted by death’s decay? The figure in white seems to be in a trance being pressed into death. The woodcut print was an excellent choice for preventing distraction from the theme.

Nina’s feathers are indeed black (and blood is flowing) in her chilling short story.

Jarek Kubicki the numbers

blood drips

“You’ll not speak of my secret in life nor death. Of this, I’m sure.”

…In one hand, a large needle with wire tailing from the eyelet; in the other, a small vial of liquid gleamed in the glowing candlelight.

Beth strained against her bindings, but she was too weak to break free. Gloria removed the cloth from Beth’s mouth and grabbed her chin before tilting her head back, forcing the potion down her throat…

…Intermittent flashes of reality only offered hints as to Gloria’s purpose; the biting pain as her stepmother forced the wire through Beth’s lips made those intentions all too clear.

Darkness devoured every ounce of light.

blood dripsCraig McGray is a regular writer for Pen of the Damned.  You can read all of the short story (excerpt above) Kept Secrets here.

Winyan Soo Hoo

… “Did I frighten you?” I ask with mock patience, patience I have not felt in a decade or more.

She stares back true and steady for several heartbeats, licks her lips – a gesture of fear, or simply to moisten them? Her eyes say the latter. In a whispered voice that carries more strength than I would have imagined, she replies, “No, not frightened. Startled.”

“I don’t frighten you? I find that hard to believe. Please don’t tell me you are some ignorant field peasant the grovlings dragged in here because your curves will suit me.” Exasperation and a growing anger fill me as my fingernail draws blood from the soft hollow where it resides.

This is not the distraction I hoped for; yet another useless mongrel, I look away. Just as I am ready to release her from the burden of breathing, her hand gently wraps around mine, forcing my nail in deeper. I turn back, ready to dispatch the second disrespectful whelp of the day. “No, I was not dragged here by those hideous little creatures. I came of my own accord.” Staring directly into my eyes, she continues, “I have seen you, in the glade. Warming yourself in the sunlight, I have seen you soar above the cliffs that house this cave. I have seen you caress your lover to death near the water’s edge. I have watched you for some time now, and I wish to be like you. To…”

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Nina D’Archangyal is the co-founder of Pen of the Damned  and a regular writer.  You can read all of her short story Feathers- here. Nina is also co-owner of the Siren’s Call E-zine.

Twitter @sotet_angyal

Blog: http://sotetangyal.wordpress.com/

 

feather Kubicki

Jarek Kubicki has given me permission to use his art this week to make the horror writing more tangible. Please have a look at his gallery this piece today is from his numbers collection and the negative of his black feathers (from Rumors about Angels collection) was an awesome addition for the end of Nina’s Feathers. In six days he has his own book release coming out in 6 days!!!

kubicki book

 

Looking for some good horror to read? Check out the Coffin Hop that runs through the end of this week. 50 authors are doing the hop with lots of free and discounted horror to keep your blood at the perfect chilled level. Nina is one of the participants and she is giving stuff away every 8 hours here  – I think she will be a Zombie by the end of the 8 day HOP.

coffin-hop-2014

 

41DXgiQdB-L._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-v3-big,TopRight,0,-55_SX278_SY278_PIkin4,BottomRight,1,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_

And… Craig and Nina have recent releases. Please enjoy their work- they are both are e51hGufXmPbL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-v3-big,TopRight,0,-55_SX278_SY278_PIkin4,BottomRight,1,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_xceptional horror writers.