Friday, August 31, 2012

Dark Messenger

Friday Flash Fiction

Dark Messenger
By Nomar Knight

He vanished, leaving me standing with my mouth open.  I scanned the surrounding woods with my only aid being a full moon and a sprinkle of sparkling stars.  Gripping the porch banister, I recalled the oddity that struck my gut when I first laid eyes on the man.  He had to be over six feet tall.  A black overcoat and dark fedora made him appear real to me.  But how did he disappear?
I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye.  On such a breezeless night, a pair of bushes swayed as if something had pushed through them.  Every fiber of my being screamed for me to forget what I saw and go back into the cottage.  The allure of safety was disrupted by more movement.
Once again the man reappeared, this time to my left.  He tilted his black fedora yet I couldn’t spot his eyes.
“Trickery of light,” I mumbled.
He had gaunt cheeks and a sturdy chin.  It seemed his gray complexion fused to his countenance.  It was almost as if he wore a surreal mask.
“What do you want?”
I could have sworn I spoke yet my voice didn’t carry through the night air.  The stranger spun and vanished for a second time.
Logic abandoned me, though I wondered if he was a magician.  Something about the man sent a burning sensation spiraling through my gut.  As if my soul had access to ancient knowledge that I couldn’t attain in this lifetime.  Somehow, the man’s identity remained hidden within the confines of memory.  However, I sensed those memories didn’t belong to me.
“Atticus!  You shouldn’t stay out there too long, honey.  The insects will eat you alive.”
“Yes mother!”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.  Although my mother spent most of her hours catering to her new boyfriend, she still found time to baby me.
I whispered, “I’m eighteen, not eight.”
I spun, upon hearing movement by the bushes.  The man in black stood facing me with his head lowered, the hat still shielding his face.  I decided to speak to him with my thoughts.
“Where do I know you from?”
He lifted his head.  Like a sculpture coming to life, his facial features became more detailed.  Thin lips curled into a snarl.  A chiseled nose filled his face.  And the blank eyes formed into what appeared to be cat’s eyes.  Shades of gray surrounded his shiny gold pupils.
Without moving his lips he said, “I’m your reminder.”
Speaking aloud, I asked, “Reminder of what?”
Once again my words didn’t carry into the physical realm, but remained trapped within the threshold of my mind.  It was as if I could not break through an unseen barrier.  Before I could ask for more clarification, the man faded into the night air.
“You’re not gone.  It’s a trick!  Tell me, a reminder of what?”
“What did you say, honey?”
My mother opened the front door, stuck her head out, and stretched her neck to peer behind me.
“Who are you talking too?”
I shook my head.  “No one.”
Sleep became difficult.  Every time I shut my eyes, I kept hearing the man in black whispering, “I’m your reminder.”
It wasn’t until I actually slept, that corridors of time began to send clarity my way through a beam of white light.  I stepped through the rays, shielding my eyes.  Once my vision adjusted, I spotted the man in black.  He spun and faced me with his eerie snarl.
“What were you supposed to remind me of?”
He glared at me with his catlike eyes and shouted, “Save your mother!”
I woke to piercing screams.  Then I jumped out of bed with my heart practically in my mouth until bursting through her bedroom door.  My vision focused on a man dressed in black, his body on top of my mother, strangling her with a chord.
“Get off her!”
I tackled the monster and we both fell off the bed.  His fedora scooted away revealing his face, leaving me numb.
“Father, what are you doing?”
He punched my face.  The sting on my cheek sent a nauseating pain to my head.  While I was dazed, I heard my mother choking.  From the corner of my eye, I spotted her current boyfriend sitting on a chair.  A knife protruded out of his bloody chest.
“No!”  Mother pleaded.
Once again my father jumped on my mother.  I didn’t understand how he had gotten out of jail.  I pulled the knife off the stiff and lunged at my father, plunging the blade in his back.
As my father struggled for life next to my terrified mother, I spotted the stranger in black.  He grinned at me, tipped his hat and vanished.
Till this day I could never fully understand who the stranger in black was or where he came from.  Though I suspected he came from another time, a dimension beyond my current understanding.  Each night, before I slept, I prayed to see the dark messenger so I could thank him for helping me save my mother.
Each day I’d wake up and say, “We will meet again, my dark friend.  I’m sure of it.”

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2012. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Peak Inside The Macabre Mind of Lori R. Lopez: Thirteen Tormentous Tales

Helly my friends, today's feature author is Lori R. Lopez. The first story I read from her was published in the Masters of Horror Damned if You Don't anthology. Her story, "Backlash" was a sheer joy to read. Lori works her magic not only in the horror genre but also poetry. So imagine my delight when I came across this gem, The Macabre Mind of Lori R. Lopez Thirteen Tormentous Tales. Lori provides some insights into some of her best work and includes some fine poetry as well. Her writing style will appeal to any fan of horror for she's quite skilled crafting tales that will leave you on the edge of your seat. Or if you're like me, I tend to read my horror at night while in bed. I caught myself checking to see if a wraith or ghost roamed my apartment while I fought off the impending chills of doom. 

You may purchase The Macabre Mind of Lori R. Lopez Thirteen Tormentous Tales at incredible bargain prices. At Amazon U.S. stop by here  If you prefer Amazon U.K. you can visit here

For those of you who own a Nook, you may purchase the book at Barnes and Noble here

All other eBook formats, Smaswords is the place to go, here

And now for a sneak peak at the story that introduced me to Lori R. Lopez, "Backlash" here's an excerpt. It happens to be in this great collection. 

Excerpt from the story "Backlash" (first published in the MASTERS OF HORROR:  DAMNED IF YOU'D DON'T anthology, along with works by fine horror authors including Nomar Knight):

A CLOAK OF FOG and pallor surrounded the patient as he stepped inside a doctor’s office.  There was no reception desk, no waiting area.  Just a vacant spot before a second closed door, a modest pedestal offering a glass water pitcher and stacked paper cups the sole decor.  The man nervously unbuttoned his dark overcoat and removed a gray wool scarf, which he crammed into a coat pocket.  The unbalanced bulge made him self-conscious so he extracted the muffler and looped it around his neck.  He fidgeted by the entrance, face still in shadow, then ventured a step forward into the light.

The guy was average in height and gangly, morose features and slouched posture well-suited for his brooding attitude.  Nothing about him seemed quite normal, yet he managed to appear unremarkable.  Possessing a wan innocuous manner, he was scarcely more animated than a corpse.  If he weren’t standing, he might almost be presumed dead.

The inner portal swung open sharply to the fellow’s surprise.  He uttered a shriek, his body jolting, and fell back a stride.  Again his visage was obscured, but he was definitely alive.

“Sorry to startle you.  I’m Doctor Winnow.  Mister Chiaroscuro is it?  Please come in.”

“My first name’s Arthur.  And it’s Chiaroscoro with an O,” he amended.  “A lot of folks make that mistake.”  The man shuffled through the doorway.

“Have a seat, Arthur.”  The doctor led him to a sitting area — two padded chairs arranged in opposite directions for an intimate conversation.  “I was going home when you called.  It’s lucky you caught me.  You said on the phone it was an emergency.  That if I didn’t help you tonight, you would do something regrettable because you couldn’t control yourself.  Might I ask the nature of your compulsion?”  Settling on the chair next to a small table bearing a lamp and a recording device, the psychiatrist softly pressed a crimson button.

Arthur hovered timidly beside the empty seat and stared at the floor.  “It’s rather personal,” he hedged, visibly squirming.  “I’ve never discussed this with anyone.”

“Well, you can discuss it with me, Arthur.  It won’t leave the room.”

The patient tensely appraised the counselor.  She was a short woman.  Tufted ash-blonde hair.  Oversized circular lenses that gave her an owlish aspect.  Somewhat pretty.  Probably someone’s wife, he mulled.  “Are you?” he abruptly questioned, as if expecting her to read his thoughts.  She’s a shrink not a psychic! he reminded himself and cleared his throat.  “A wife?”

“You seem agitated,” she skillfully redirected.  The session, after all, was about him.  “Is there something you need to tell me?  You can say anything here.  I won’t judge you.”  She leaned toward him with a smile, elbows on her thighs, hands clasped.

“Promise?”  The word was spoken as if it held tremendous import.

“I do,” she nodded.  “I promise.”

“And this is confidential?”


The man slid the scarf off his neck, twisted it between his fists.  “I’ve done terrible things, Doctor,” he admitted.
“Mildred.  Doctor is much too stuffy.”  His confessor waited for him to continue, her torso upright, braced for the unknown.

He posed awkwardly, waiting for her to react.

The doctor gently enticed, “What things have you done, Arthur?”

“I can’t tell you,” he whispered, shoulders hunched miserably.

“Why not?” she prodded.

A harsh gasp:  “You’ll despise me!”

“I promised, Arthur.  No judging, remember?”

“Yes.  You promised.”

© Copyright Lori R. Lopez 2012. All rights reserved.
Lori R. Lopez has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2012. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Book Promotion

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Nobody Cared

Nobody Cared
By Nomar Knight

She wept for what was lost
Her shoulders bounced
Chin tucked to her chest
Eyes welded with tears

She thought nobody cared

It didn't matter how she felt
People bending her will
Breaking the need for comfort
Until hope evaporated

She thought nobody cared

Ridicule ruled her waking hours
Sadness brought by misdirection
Loneliness smothered thinning breath
Past decisions kept her prisoner

She thought nobody cared

Years of being pushed and pulled
Slapped and kicked
Spat upon and neglected
Brought her to her knees

She thought nobody cared

Her allies turned against her
Hoarse whispers drowned out
By stomping tantrums
Cast out of grace

She thought nobody cared

Until a Knight heard her pleas
Soothed aching soul
Valued her friendship
Healed her for a breath

Alas someone cared

Shackled from power
Hidden from view
Her savior banished forever
Separated by ignorance

Again nobody cared

The princess cried
For hope shouldn't die
Yet freedom's song was silenced
Keeping her in darkness

When will somebody care

 ©2012 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Poem.