It’s a lovely spring day here. I wish I could be outside, but like most writers I’ve fallen behind on all my projects and today I’m trying to play catch up. Since embarking on my horror journey, I have been creating and writing more steadily than I ever have, so I can’t be too hard on myself. And so far, I’ve made some great friends along the way.
In this week’s photo, the blood red bath water was created using the Blood Bath Bomb from Ghoulish Delights Bath Shop. The bath bomb smelled amazing and made my skin so soft. It was the most pleasant photo shoot I’ve done yet! Ghoulish Delights Bath Shop just recently launched and carries awesome horror themed bath products. I’ve gotten to know the creator of this company through my short time spent in the horror community, and I have such respect for her and what she does. Check out www.ghoulishdelightsshop.com and help support an amazing, woman-owned small business!
And now, another installment of “The Cockroaches Waltz At Midnight.”
With Screams and Axes,
The Cockroaches Waltz At Midnight (Cont.)
Art began to run. He didn’t know what that thing was or why it knew his name, but something told him not to wait and find out. He ran back the way he had come, towards the lights of the gas station. He didn’t look back, and he didn’t call out for Duke. The woods seemed thicker somehow, forcing him to slow down and try to walk quietly. It also seemed that he had run deeper into the woods than he thought. The lights in the distance seemed so far away. Art was unsure how he had been able to run that far.
By the time Art got back to the gas station there were two police cars out front, and he could see his manager standing there with his arms crossed, watching Art shamble towards the scene. Duke was sitting on the ground having a cigarette. His eye looked swollen, and his nose was bleeding. Art laughed for a moment, thinking about Duke getting the shit kicked out of him.
“What are you doing?” Art’s manager demanded as soon as he was close enough to scream at.
“What?” Art was confused.
“Why did you leave the store?” His manager asked again.
“To help Duke. We were going after a shop lifter.”
“Yes, Duke was going after the shop lifter.” He looked at Duke and frowned. “Which is against company protocol and he knows it. What I don’t understand is why you left the station unattended when Duke ran out to chase the thief.”
“Because when you left, the shop lifter’s buddies, who must have been watching, came in and made off with the whole god damn register!” A vein in his forehead pulsed and Art didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry.” Art began.
“You’re sorry? Well, you’re fired.” The manager waved him away.
“But, but…”Art tried to come up with an argument in his defense.
“But nothing. Get out of here.” The manager turned his back and went to go speak with a police officer.
Art walked home in the dark, wondering how he was going to be able to pay his rent for the attic room now. Maybe his parents were right, maybe Marta was right. Maybe he should have just gone to college.
Art opened the door to the Steven’s house as quietly as he could. It was 4:30 in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake them. But as he entered the living room, Art found all the lights on and the Steven’s sitting at the table, having what looked like dinner. Mrs. Steven was cutting a slice of meatloaf for Mr. Steven, who himself was stirring a large bowl of mashed potatoes. They were wearing matching pink sweat suits, Mr. Steven had several large gold rings on his fingers, and Mrs. Steven was wearing a clownish amount of makeup. The way she had drawn on her eyebrows, thick and dark, gave her a bewildered expression. They both looked up at Art as he entered the room, surprised to see him.
“Art, my lad!” Mr. Steven boomed. “Sit and have dinner with us.” He motioned him towards the table. Art felt it would be rude to deny him, plus he was very hungry. So without asking questions about why they were eating dinner at 4:30 a.m., Art sat at the table and watched Mrs. Steven slice a piece of meat loaf for him.