Saturday Story 2023 – Week 42 (Cursed)
It’s the Spooky Season so there’s a horror story on my Patreon. Synopsis below:
An ancient evil awakens at a hospital.
This piece is partially inspired by the Evil Dead franchise. It was something I started writing last year that never really finished until today. While it does have some light mind control elements, the main focus of it is dread.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
A small excerpt is available below:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/91421381
A couple of hours later, June sat inside a broom closet, legs crossed, head leaning against the right side of the door. It was her favorite hiding place, the only source of comfort and solace when limits were about to be shattered. She never stayed there long. Five or ten minutes were enough to clear her head and center her thoughts.
Outside, the mayhem had slowly calmed down, yet the effects of the horror lingered on. In the first twenty minutes of her shift, she had been confronted with three exposed fractures, an impalement on a broken steering wheel, two cases of severed arteries caused by glass shards, and an amputated leg in need of replantation. News stations across the country were describing the mass collision as one of the worst in recorded history, one more event she would remember for the rest of her life, and all for the wrong reasons. With all the commotion, she had almost forgotten Margaret’s conundrum, but the memories came back to her as soon as she opened the door and stepped outside.
June wandered for a few moments adrift in silent contemplations before stopping in front of the young girl’s room. Margaret was at least four inches taller than her and sported a mane of bubblegum pink hair with violet highlights running parallel to her pierced ears. She had two visible tattoos, one on her right arm and the other at the base of her left wrist, depicting a monarch butterfly flapping its wings and the Sanskrit word, Anugachhati Pravah (to go with the flow), respectively. When she wasn’t withering away in a bed, Margaret loved to play the electric guitar and dreamed of forming a girl’s band with her two best friends.
“And now you’re going to die in here. How the hell is this fair?” June thought, peeking inside.
(…)
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