Don't Cry Tonight

Don't Cry Tonight 
by Nomar Knight


     “Don’t cry tonight.” He whispered near Linda’s half bitten ear. 
     For months Mike had watched Linda as she strolled in the park. He loved how the pink highlights gleamed on her silky blond hair. Her petite frame and innocent face could fool most predators looking to bag a child, but he knew she was of legal age. Her white skin made Mike want to slide his tongue all over her body. He imagined she’d taste like sweet nectar. 
     Bloodshot eyes pleaded with Mike. 
     “If I remove the tape, do you promise not to scream again?”
     She nodded. Her blue eyes elevated to the restraints on her wrists. 
     Mike yanked the tape and pulled a soggy handkerchief from her mouth. 
     Linda stretched her jaw and whispered, “Water.”
     Mike squeezed a plastic water bottle, allowing the precious liquid to squirt inside her mouth and over her chapped lips. 
When he was done, he placed the bottle on a tray next to his instruments of torture. 
     “Why can’t we be lovers, Linda?”
     He stood behind her, twisted a chunk of her hair around his fingers and sniffed. “Ah, you smell wonderful.”
     “Please,” Linda whispered, “Let me go.”
     He ran his fingers down her naked back. He loved how she shivered when touched. 
     “Is it because I’m fat?”
     His six foot frame towered over her. He frowned when she averted her eyes so as to avoid his stare. Mike grabbed her cheeks, forcing her eyes to meet his and shouted, “You think you’re too good for me! The other girls made the same mistake. The first thing I removed from them was one eye.”
     Tears streamed down Linda’s face. Her lips puckered as if she was about to bawl. She tried to choke in the sobs, but alas, the realization must have been clear for she screamed as if struck by a sledgehammer. 
     “Shush, don’t cry.” Mike picked up a hair brush and began to straighten the blond curls. “I can show you love like no one else could.”
     He whistled a familiar tune to calm her. He smiled when recognition lit her eyes. 
     “Linda, don’t forget that I never lied to you. Don’t ever forget how I felt about you.”
     “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”
     Mike whistled some more then he whispered, “Guns N’ Roses had it right.”
     He put down the brush and picked up a seven inch blade with a jagged edge. He continued, “You have to make it on your own. Don’t worry, you’ll be alright.”
     His eyes wandered toward the ceiling. The abandoned factory had proven to be an excellent choice. 
     “Let me go.”
     “Mike, my name is Mike.”
     He stepped closer to her and held the blade against her throat. 
     “Tomorrow will be better. You won’t be in pain anymore. Enjoy the sunrise.”
     Again Linda wept. She shuddered and prayed. 
     Mike kissed her cheek and said, “Don’t cry tonight. You’ll be in heaven soon.”
     He put the knife back on the tray and picked up a spoon. Confusion invaded her stare. He could see her thinking. 
     “Mike, maybe I can try to love you.”
     “The other girls said that too before I cut off their tongues.”
     He used the spoon and pried out her right eye. Her screams gave him a boner. 
     Afterwards, shock must have set in for she whimpered softly. 
     Mike hugged her. “That’s okay, baby. Don’t cry tonight. Don’t cry. We’re not done yet.”



 655 words

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Horror’s Possible Ramifications

"Horror is beyond the reach of psychology."-- Theodor Adorno

Meaning the science of psychology cannot undo the psychological damage that horror, either real life or fictional, inflicts. Let us examine some of the physical aspects of horror. Sweaty palms which lead to every part of the body covered in perspiration. A rapid heartbeat that makes people believe they are going to die of cardiac arrest. A sudden inability to move limbs, followed by the realization if they move, they would draw unwanted attention; perhaps leading to a dangerous hesitation that can lead to a volatile confrontation. Involuntary movement, such as knees buckling and knocking against each other; spasms shaking arms and neck, or a sudden tick developing in the face, all are telltale signs of physical fear.

The physiology behind fear is one thing, but there’s no substitute for what horror can do to the human psyche. I’m not a psychologist but if real life traumatic events wouldn’t affect the surviving victims, then why must they afterwards consult a psychologist or psychiatrist?

I agree with Theodor Adorno’s statement. Horror’s psychological ramifications, even if it’s just fictional horror, can trigger phobias that could affect a person their entire lives. Watch a movie about millions of insects roaming on people and acting out of character and you may develop a sudden awareness of the possibility of malice originating from any similar creature. And therein lays the key word: possibility.

Horror writers enjoy delving in possible outcomes, slowly feeding the mind fantastic, yet plausible scenarios until somewhere in the deep recess of the mind; the audience accepts the possibility as probable. Something like rodents attacking a household is highly unlikely but if some kind of chemical, unbeknownst to everyone, was released in the air and altered their behavior, then what was once possible becomes probable and therefore, in the audience’s mind, can in fact, be accepted as a plausible threat. Any threat considered viable may have a deep psychological impact.

There are many phobias, all of which may have profound psychological affects, all of which can be utilized by the skilled writer to wreak havoc on the reader’s psyche, even if it’s only while they immerse themselves in the fictional world.

So my friends, if you find yourself with a sudden infestation of insects. Bugs that suddenly move out in the open without fearing for their survival, then just maybe, horror has found its way into your reality.

Until next time,


Nomar Knight