[Collected Horror Shorts 02] • Collected Easter Horror Shorts by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Anthologies
ISBN: 1490060294
Amazon: B06XSHD8G2
Goodreads: 34724571
Publisher: Kevin J. Kennedy
Published: 2017-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

LORD OF THE DANCE

J. C. Michael

Blood ran from his wrists: thick, dark, warm. His hands raised above his head, it flowed quickly down his arms, before pooling momentarily on his shoulders, then coursing over his scarred, muscular, chest. As it continued to flow, he knew that the amount pulsing from his wounds was in excess of that which a normal man held within his body, but it had been a very long time since he had been such a man. In defiance of gravity, the blood on his shoulders began to flow upwards: tendrils at first, and then thick fingers around his throat and to his stubbled chin. As it reached his jaw, and began to cover the whole nape of his neck, he felt trickles of blood run down from his scalp; the droplets running down his face as if eager to join the mass that covered his broad shoulders. Soon, his naked body was awash with blood: blood that symbolised his own, blood that symbolised those he had killed—2,000 victims dead at his hands. Hands he now held in front of eyes stinging from the blood that washed over them. Hands that were the only part of his body that remained unstained, yet he felt he would never be able to scrub them clean.

** *

It wasn’t a new dream. He had dreamt it many times, and always more frequently at this time of year. A time of year dictated by his body and knowledge only he possessed, rather than the calendar decreed by the Church. His body was wet with a cold, sticky sweat and his clothes were sticking to him, making him feel all the more uncomfortable by the position he lay in; a position which gave him very little opportunity for movement. He’d been entombed beneath the greenhouse floor for a week now, his body stiff and aching from the lack of movement. He could shift himself enough, however, to begin un-wrapping the sodden bandages from his wrists. The wounds beneath looked fresh in the light of his head-torch, and he carefully removed the wadding filling the holes that punctured his wrists from front to back. How his hands worked despite the damage, he had little idea; it was but one of many things he had stopped trying to figure out. Besides, the wounds would soon be healed, and become little more than scars which would lay dormant for another year, before blooming into life once more at the time of his calling.

His wounds freshly dressed, he stuffed the old bandages in his waste bag, a black duffel full of bottles of urine and a Tupperware box of excrement. It was almost time. A dog barked. He heard voices approaching. He closed his eyes and lay still.

***

“Come in Alpha 1, Alpha 2 reporting in. ”

“Alpha 1 receiving, Alpha 2. Proceed with report.”

“Area 3 clear. Now checking Area 4 for final sweep.”

“Report received, Alpha 2. Complete the sweep and then return to HQ for final briefing. All operations are on schedule.

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