I had quite a busy day visiting family and sitting in traffic. I hope everyone else out there had lovely Sundays as well.
This past week, I was contacted by Creepy Elliot who asked if he could read some of my fiction in one of his videos on his YouTube channel. That sounded like a wonderful idea, so I readily agreed. You can check out Creepy Elliot’s YouTube channel and his narration of some of my short fiction pieces here: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dxwFtaPDCmw
I also want to take a moment to show everyone the awesome shirt I just received from Terror Threads.
Look at that zombie action. You can check out this shirt and more of their awesome collection here: https://terrorthreads.com?rfsn=213990.9158d
And now, without further ado, part 2 of “The Cockroaches Waltz At Midnight.”
Thank you for reading.
With Screams and Axes,
The Cockroaches Waltz at Midnight (Part 2)
Art left his guitar leaning against his desk, and let himself fall onto his bed. He stared up at the slanted wood ceiling and listened to the creaking of the elderly house. Without meaning to, he fell asleep. Art dreamed of the attic. He was on his bed, just as he was. He felt something shaking the metal bed frame, a rumbling from underneath him. Out from under the bed surged thousands of cockroaches, little legs scurrying at super speeds, all hurrying to Art. They covered him completely head to toe, smothering him with their tiny bodies.
Art woke up choking. He coughed and coughed, and finally hacked up a cockroach and spit it out onto the floor. It righted itself quickly and hurried under the bed. Art breathed heavily and put a hand to his throat, as his mind experienced a new depth of disgust. Quickly he lowered himself to the floor, deciding to chase the offending cockroach that had tried to choke him. That roach had to die. Art reached under the bed, but instead of swiping up the cockroach, his hand touched a large round object. Pulling it out from under the bed, Art found himself looking over a strange object he had never seen before.
It was a crudely formed figure of an insect. Its abdomen was made out of a dried dirt clod and wrapped in twine. Its legs and antennae were made of sticks, its wings made of leaves. It smelled of rot and as Art held it, he decided that it had definitely been made in the image of a cockroach. Art wondered how such a thing had found its way under his bed. He wondered if it was some eccentricity of the Stevens. They seemed like they’d be into weirdo folk art.
Art put the cockroach figure on his desk, assuring himself that he’d ask the Stevens about it later, and that he’d also talk to them about hiring an exterminator. But now, Art had to go to work at the gas station.