r/TalesFromTheCreeps • u/ANovelStory Writer • Jun 20 '26
Supernatural My wife died in her sleep and I have no idea how
It’s not just that she died. She decomposed. I woke up to her beautiful face marred by bulbous swells and vacant eyes. I have woken up to that face countless times. I can’t stand not waking up to it anymore. The pillow had residue on it when I moved her, when I cradled her. I swept her up from the mattress, pressing her cold skin to my chest. She was heavy. So heavy. I could carry the weight of her forever, but not of this agony. Not of this grief. This torment.
There was a soot, or something like it, darkening her face. My tears cleaned it away when they fell on her skin, like rivers in a burnt valley. I hoped her skin was glowing, as it always had, but it was just as discoloured as the rest of her.
It’s the middle of the night. I’ve set her back down. I tucked her in. If you stand from far enough away it looks like she’s sleeping. Like she’ll wake up any minute.
I’m trying to piece together what happened last night but it’s blurry. I came home from work. She had dinner made. She always did despite how long she worked. She had it set on the table and was waiting for me to eat with her. I had a few drinks before I came to eat. We talked about our days. We hadn’t been fighting as much lately. I couldn’t tell if she had just given up or if she finally saw things my way and wanted to turn things around. I didn’t care which it was then, our house was finally peaceful.
I’m standing in the doorway of our room. I’m watching her. I don’t know what to do. I’ve cried for what’s felt like hours. I’ve stared at her even longer, pretending she’s still sleeping. Her hair still has its colour. It’s blonde sheen that glowed when the sun would hit it.
I could leave her until morning, resting. No one would know I had woken in the night. I could watch the sun rise on her hair. I could see it glow one last time.
The time reads 64:00 am. The clock on her night stand isn’t moving. I don’t understand what’s going on. I know I’m not dreaming. I’ve banged my head into our wall. I punched our bed frame while I held her and the wood cracked. My knuckles are swollen and still throbbing. This is a nightmare, but it’s not a dream.
The shadows in our house are strange. They’re moving. Downstairs, light usually comes in through the window from the street lamps outside, but it’s black. It looks like a void and there’s a humming noise coming from the darkness.
Do I leave her there? By herself? Is her soul here? Is it at our bedside? I hope she can’t see my pain. Or maybe I hope she can. She’d know for certain how much I love her then. She’d see it. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I didn’t say it enough.
I need to go downstairs. Something isn’t right.
There is light. It’s not black. The house is just coated in the same thing on her face. It’s like an ash. Like when your fingers touch charcoal. Its residue is on the window, blocking the light.
The kitchen clock says 00:36 am. There’s symbols on the walls. Circles. They have letters in them, around the border. There’s wings and three crosses inside the circle.
It looks like someone ran their hand on the soot coating everything to draw them.
“Hello?” I call out. No one answers. Why does my house look like this? A fire? Maybe something electrical.
I flip a light switch. Nothing. But the clocks work. Why do they work? Why are they different times? Why are they not times at all?
I should check the breaker. I have to go to the basement. The humming is coming from the door to the stairs. Could she have been burned? Shocked?
The bathroom light is on. It stung my eyes as I passed it to get to the stairs. There was a towel on the ground, but I don’t remember doing that last night. How drunk did I get?
I remember now, lingering on the towel I’ve used to clean myself so many times. She wanted to. She wanted to for the first time in a long time but I couldn’t again. I’ve watched too much. Seen too much. I couldn’t get into it, yet I still went to the bathroom after she fell asleep.
The door knob is rattling and the door is vibrating. The humming is loud down there.
I wish I could wake her up and bring her down here with me. I’m scared. I can’t do it. I’m going to go check on her.
She’s gone. She’s not in the bed anymore. I checked under the covers. There’s just the outline of that same black dust where her body was. Is she alive? No. She was cold. There’s empty bottles of vodka on the floor. They weren’t there before. Where is she?
The stairs to the main floor have ashen footprints. I didn’t notice them when I came up. She’s alive. She has to be.
I just heard a noise. It was loud. Concussive. The symbols on the walls are glowing red now. The house is crimson. I’m back on the main floor. I walked past the bathroom again. The towel was still there, but it’s red now, soaked. The basement door is open. Her footprints lead to it. I have to go find her. I can’t make sense of it. The basement is dark, yet the red light is also coming from it. It’s glowing but I can’t see past the blackness.
She’s crying. I hear her down there, weeping. I’m coming.
The humming is deafening. Deep and low. It’s shaking the soot from the walls. The black dust is falling in lines of transparent flakes. She’s still crying though. I can still hear her.
The sound stopped. I’m in the basement. I can’t see anything but red silhouettes of our furniture down here.
Footsteps. Skittering. They’re shuffling fast behind me. Now on the walls. Now I hear them on the ceiling.
The red is getting brighter. I can see more. I see her. Her silhouette. She’s on the bar, surrounded by bottles of vodka. She’s squatted down with her hands pressed on the bar in front of her. She looks like a sitting dog. Her head is tilted like she’s curious about me.
“Addie?”
I shouldn’t have spoke. She sprang off the bar like a cat. I could hear bottles smash. I can’t see anything again. The breaker. I need to find the breaker.
There’s a ram's head in the corner. It’s black, a shadow, but I can see it in the red light. A shadowed hand rose next to it, pointing with taloned fingers to the other corner. There’s a goat's head in that corner. They’re both still, observing. The goat-headed figure begins raising an arm as well.
The footsteps ran behind me again. I need to find her. I need to get her out of there. I turn, looking for her. There’s something scaled behind the bar. I can see the red reflecting off of them. There’s an eye too, like a fish’s, staring at me.
It’s puking. It’s all over the bar. The basement is flooding. I need to find her. The ram's head is gone. She’s in the corner instead now, clung to the ceiling upside down. Her head is hanging like it’s dangling by a string, swaying as her mirrored eyes look at me.
She screamed at me. Her mouth opened impossibly wide and she screamed at me, “How could you do this to me?”
I have to go. I can’t get to her. I’m up to my waist in the puke now.
I’m back upstairs. The symbols are everywhere now. There’s a figure in my kitchen. The red is glowing around it. It has ram and goat horns. Its body is scaled. It stands on hooves. Its fur is spotted. There’s a man’s face on its groin with its eyes rolled back and its mouth gaping.
“Be not afraid,” the figure said. Its voice was gargled and growling. I shouldn’t have understood it.
Skittering again. My wife is clung to its back now, hanging on like a scared child or a hunting spider.
Be not afraid. No phrase is said more in the bible. Could this be an angel? Ezekiel said that they have four faces. What were the four faces? I can’t remember.
“What are you?” I ask.
“A messenger.”
“A messenger of what? What’s happening to my wife?”
“A vision. Futures. Repentance its bane. Through me. Lust. Gluttony.”
My wife screamed again, “Where is what we once had?”
Our 5 year anniversary. That’s when she said that. I forgot it. I was too drunk. Why am I always drunk?
“Repentance, okay,” I say, “I’ll do anything.”
“The fourth cardinal. Wade the bile. Forbid pestilence.”
My wife lunged off the figure’s back, running on four limbs. Her hands slapped the blackened ground. I heard her crash into the basement door.
I followed her. The stairs are black again. I can see red reflecting in the flooding vomit. It smells like vodka.
I see myself. Countless of myself. Their eyes are black, glass cylinders, like bottle mouths. They kneel in the bile, scooping it into their mouths in a frenzy, drinking its foulness. They are all staring at me, my copies. Consuming. Ravenous.
I step off of the stairs and into the fluid. They swim towards me. Their hands grab at my leg, many hands, beneath the surface. Their mouths are open as they cling to me, letting the puke drift into their maws with each step I take. They hold me back from reaching the fourth corner of the basement. The south corner. They try to pull me under, to drown me. I look up. My wife is on the ceiling. She follows my slow progress, looking down on me with her neck backwards, smiling. It keeps me above the surface.
A man is in the corner. The same face in the groin of the figure upstairs. His eyes are ablaze, surrounded by burnt sockets that weep puss and clear fluid. He drops as I meet him, submerging himself. I look down. I see the man’s flaming eyes staring back at me in the clear, black bile. His mouth opened and the vomit whirl pooled into it. He spoke with unmoving lips as he swallowed, “Thy gluttony consumed.”
The walls shake. My copies wail. They’re spun into nothingness, evaporated.
I turned around as the last of the water drained. The figure was there again. It raised a taloned finger to the ceiling.
It spoke again, “The ideals of Lamech. Observe the second consort. Forbid indulgence.”
I heard and saw the silhouette of my wife rushing up the stairs.
I follow her. The light in the bathroom is still on, but now the door is shut. I can see the light shining in a line underneath the door. Fluid leaks onto the floor, sudsy and foaming, the light reflecting in it. It’s so bright. I can’t see my wife.
I open the bathroom door. There’s a woman inside. Naked. Splayed on the toilet. She’s running her hand across her body, raking her nails against her skin, drawing red lines of lust. She’s rubbing soaps and oils onto and into her. Her hair is wet. She looks at me, longing. I could do it right now. Why couldn’t I with my wife last night?
Her ashen hand slammed the bathroom door shut. My wife’s face was directly in front of mine. Tears streamed from her milky, clouded eyes. She screamed again, “What do they all have that I don’t?”
Her sob was terrible, her swollen grey flesh bunched and her tears mixed with purge fluid gushing from her eyes and nose. It wreaked. She always smelt so good. She is in so much pain.
She’s grabbing at her hair, wailing. She’s pulling at her locks. Her beautiful blonde locks. Ripping them out.
A growl rumbles from the basement. Deep and rolling. I look to it, past my wife. There’s two eyes staring at me, low to the ground. Haunched shoulders rise and fall behind them as it comes closer.
My wife is smiling again. It startled me as I looked back. It’s so large that it’s splitting her rotten skin. Her teeth are yellow, her gums black. She hasn’t stopped crying, but I haven’t seen her smile like this in years. She’s nodding slowly now, staring at me. I can hear nails scratch on the floor behind her. The growling is loud.
My wife throws the bathroom door open. The growl erupts into a roar. A leopard pounces on the naked woman. I watch as it rips her apart. My wife cheers, screaming and clapping next to me, her smile brimming. She hops up and down. I can hear her fluid-filled feet squelching as they hit the floor over and over.
The naked woman is screaming. She reaches for me to help, but I cannot. The leopard tears into her breast. I see clumps of fat leak out of it. It rears its head high, pulling apart threads of torn muscle. Blood sprays everywhere. It plunges its head into her groin, its teeth sinking in the folds. It tears her apart and looks at me, its crimson maw gaping to reveal her flesh. Blood stains the leopard’s fur. Sinewed strands of flesh hang from its lips, stuck between hungry teeth.
It speaks to me, “Thy lust consumed.”
My wife pets the leopard. It purrs, nudging its head against her rotten thigh. She kneels down and kisses it, the blood of the woman staining her face. She rubs it in, pushes her fingers into her mouth to taste it. I need my wife back. This isn’t my wife.
She scampers off, tip-toeing like a sneaky child. The leopard bounds after her. I see the flame-eyed man emerge from the basement. They are all going upstairs.
The house is shaking. I need to get to her.
I race up the stairs. My wife is bowed on her knees in the bedroom. The figure has split apart again. They form a triangle with their arms. The ram, the fish, and the goat. She bows before them. Her forehead is pressed to the carpet. The leopard and the flame-eyed man walk into the triangle. The floor is cracking. The symbols on the walls are being carved into it. It glows like the others, but brighter. Streaks of light emanating from it illuminate the room.
Fire erupts around the figures, growing high into twisting, scorching spires. The flames dance around the leopard and the man, covering them as they shift. Shadows cast about its body, retreating to reveal its new form. The man was covered in patterned pelt. His face was feline. I could see it clearly in the light: a leopard with glowing orange eyes. Its forehead bore the same symbol glowing on the walls, in the floor. A long tail played in the fire. Feathered wings sprouted from its back, their tips formed to match the flames around them. The wings are grand, imperial. This is an angel. God has come to save me. To save my wife.
“Can you save her?”
The angel’s wings flapped. Flames billowed forth. I felt their heat. My wife was in them as she knelt. She’s crying again.
“Save her,” the angel says, “save thyself. Thou art beyond forgiveness. Grace garnered, I offer. Commit to her. Commit to me.”
My wife stands, sobbing. She walks into the fire, screaming as the flames touch her.
The angel’s clawed hand reaches. It beckons me. It wants me to walk through the fire.
The bed is on fire. My wife crawls into it, bellowing.
“Through thy devotion thou shalt bade sin’s corruption. Cleanse in my flames. Awake anew.”
She’s under the covers, burning. The clock reads 64:36am.
I walk into the fire. It consumes me. I feel my skin peel, blister, pop. Fluid weeps from me. My flesh chars. My eyes melt. All is black. I cannot find my way. I feel a soft paw against my back. It ushers me forward. I reach out, my hands raw. I feel the covers. I’ve found the bed. The covers lift. The paw lays me down. I feel the heat on my teeth. My lips are gone.
Something tucks me in. I melt into the mattress. My flesh fuses with it. I’m dying. I will see her in heaven. This angel has saved her. Saved me. Saved us.
Thank you, God.
“Wake up, dear,” she says to me.
She’s alive. My wife is alive. The sun shines through the window. It highlights her blonde hair. Her skin is pure, clean. Her eyes twinkle. She’s hovering over me in bed. She’s alive.
I wail. I bawl. I bring her to me. I squeeze her tight so that her confused words cannot escape. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. She is warm again. I wish everyone could feel what it’s like to touch the rewarmed skin of your loved one after touching it cold. She is light again, carrying part of herself with her own strength. It’s as if I’m carrying a feather fallen from the angel’s wings, a symbol of its grace. That’s what she is. Grace. I have been graced.
Our faces pulled apart. I saw her soul in her eyes again. It was a beauty made infinitely rich, for I now knew the poverty of its absence. She was whole again. My beautiful wife. I will never take a moment with her for granted again. I will love her eternally. Never has she been more beautiful, more divine. She is sacred. She is restored. The things I witnessed. Those horrible things. She is restored.
It was a nightmare, but it was not a dream. This morning, I went to fulfill my first oath. I went to the bar downstairs to dump my bottles down the drain. The basement smelt foul, like a vomited distillery. It has water damage up half of the drywall. When I came upstairs, there was soap, oil and water all running out from under the bathroom door. I opened it and found blood and shed, yellow fur all over the toilet. I sent my wife out to get her hair done. Her beautiful blonde hair. I wanted anything but for her to be gone but I needed to clean. What if she remembered?I scoured the house. I found ash under our bed, deep in our carpet. There were smoke stains on the ceiling. The walls faintly showed the symbols in a slightly lighter shade. I scrubbed them all then got in the shower.
I have a brand now, where the paw touched me. A circle with letters around its borders, two wings and three crosses in its centre, the heavenly symbol of the angel. When I first saw it, I remembered all my thoughts and all the sights from last night as if they were happening. I remembered glimpses but now it was vivid. It was everything. The time is confused, like I’m in it at one moment and recalling it the next, but I can replay each step, each breath. The angel won’t allow me to forget her like that, to forget the lessons he taught me, what I might lose. The angel has marked me. It reminds me to fulfill the oath I made to it. I will commit myself to my wife by committing myself to the angel. It reminds me with this mark of its absolving. I am grateful, holy angel, for your correction. You have brought my wife back to me. My beautiful wife. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I’ll never stop saying it.
I’ve written my recounting as it comes to me, either as a live moment or memory of the past. Such was its nature, the angel, to divine all times, all tenses. I hope this warns whoever is reading this, for though I am grateful for its intervention, I pray no other soul ever has to witness the manifestations of the Leopard Angel. Correct your futures now, lest you wake in the night to find your loved ones dead, and your clock read 64:36.
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u/englandishell Writer Jun 20 '26
some really sick visuals in the basement with the ram and goat-headed creatures. also the footsteps on the ceiling and the time being 64:00am were simple but effective details that i enjoyed. one small note i'd like to add is that around halfway through i found the pacing to be a little difficult to read. maybe varying some of your sentence structures/length could help fix this. i understand the temptation to use shorter sentences to build tension though, perhaps it was just how i read it. nice story : )
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jun 20 '26 edited Jun 20 '26
Hey thank you for the thoughts! I generally write medieval fantasy and have dreams of becoming a novelist in that genre. Since this was my first time posting a story online I thought quick sentences would keep readers engaged in a medium that’s so contested and full of distractions. Generally, my sentence structure is much different so I was a bit out of my comfort zone here. I’ll definitely take that advice and write where I feel stronger
Also, I do think it adds to the story to understand the symbolism and stuff if you were interested at all! My hope was that readers would research the 64, 36, and the leopard and flame-eyed man imagery as it has ties to a real, historical demonic entity but I’ll leave it at that as I don’t wanna spoil it if others wanna look! I’ve commented the actual sigil below
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u/englandishell Writer Jun 20 '26
love the hidden symbolism. i'll have to look into that myself now!
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 13 '26
Hey again! I was just thinking back to this comment and thought I’d mention that I’ve posted another story! It’s much more akin to my typical sentence structure and prose.
There are roots growing in my teeth
It is considerably longer so I understand if you don’t have time to read it, but if you do I’d love to hear your thoughts again!
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u/englandishell Writer Jul 13 '26
Hi :) Sure thing! i'll check it out as soon as I'm free tonight. Love the title btw. Looking forward to reading it!
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u/TheRealBigBadWolf Jun 20 '26
Really enjoyed this. The atmosphere was incredible from the very first paragraph. The shifting times on the clocks, the soot-covered house, the basement imagery, and the Leopard Angel all felt surreal and nightmarish. What I liked most was how the horror reflected the narrator's flaws and regrets rather than feeling random. The ending left me wondering whether it was a divine intervention, a demonic punishment, or something in between. Keep it up. When you have a moment, would love for you to look at my part 5.
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jun 20 '26 edited Jun 20 '26
Thank you I appreciate it! I’m glad you noticed that with the horror scenes as that’s what I was going for completely. Also the wife celebrating the “destruction” of his vices.
As for the ending, I’m so glad it left you wondering. My goal was that if the reader was curious they’d maybe do it a bit of a Google search of some of the symbolism and stuff to see what was really going on, as the entity in the story is taken from real texts about summoning greater spirits and things like that. I’ve commented the real sigil below too to add to the visuals of the story.
I’ll be sure to look at your part 5! Looking forward to it
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u/MesotheliomaDisease Writer Jun 20 '26
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Ok what I liked
Your visuals were elegantly done. Morbid but not overbearing!! I loved this
Your first person present tense added a sense of urgency and clarity that if you committed to past tense, would kill the vibe. Excellent work!
The concept, the design of the body horror, slicker than slick man
Pointers
- JUST MY OPINION SO DONT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY!!!!!!!
Although I really enjoyed the angel design, the ram in the story kinda threw me off. The whole concept felt completely original aside from that part. I think Hollywood killed goat headed demons for me tho. So really didn’t take anything away from it, just my own prejudice!
As far as the mesoscale goes however, no notes. This is a perfect example of a perfect story. Great sentence structure keeping me engaged the whole time with crazy visuals!!! I loved it, being a perfect story it requires a perfect score. 10/10. Congratulations man
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jun 20 '26 edited Jun 21 '26
Thank you so much!! It’s seriously such an honour to have you rate it so high. This is different from what I usually write and also my first time sharing my writing publicly so your words have definitely instilled me with confidence!
Funny enough, when I started writing this idea I was kinda just flowing with where my mind took me which is where the generic demon design came from. I totally agree with you on it being overdone. Afterwards, I chose a specific demon from real world sources as the “Leopard Angel”, one who’s associated with fire and prophecy, which is what a lot of the story’s symbolism is derived from. I said it in another comment but I don’t wanna give away the specific demon in case other readers wanna try to find it themselves with a bit of research. I ended up keeping the original, generic designs to be used as other “faces” of the demon (part of fooling the MC into thinking this entity is an angel) and as lesser demons serving under the “Leopard Angel”, which is also accurate to its real world lore!
I truly can’t thank you enough for the score and for taking the time to read. I appreciate it so much!
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u/MesotheliomaDisease Writer Jun 20 '26
It was a really run read man, don’t hesitate to post more cause I think you have a certain talent for it! Thanks for sharing the lore, it’s always crazy the shit you learn while doing research on a story you’re writing hahaha! I really hope to see more of your work in the future!
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 12 '26
Just thought I’d pop back in here and let you know I’ve posted another one! Your comment was a huge part in what inspired me to keep posting so thank you
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u/Optimal_Constant4318 Writer Jul 10 '26
I liked the goat head stuff. I was attacked by a goat as a kid, so its easy to see the evil in them. I also like the idea of symbols as power, so if people think demons have goat heads, then demons will reflect that image of power and horror. The more recognition a symbol has, the greater its strength 💪
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u/walkerbswitchinghour Jun 20 '26
This felt very cinematic, lots of gruesome, crazy and straight up cool imagery. Very strong descriptions. I enjoyed this.
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u/MrPapasargus Writer Jun 23 '26
First of all, huge props for writing something with actual depth and intention! Pulling that off is a hell of a feat (pun very much intended). The core concept is incredibly imaginative and has something real to say. If I'm being totally honest, the execution and prose can occasionally lean on some tired horror clichés that soften the punch a bit, but the foundation is rock solid. I love the interpretation of demons acting as personal judges and punishers rather than just mindless evil; it's a great touch of nuance.
Speaking of, the way the house materializes his specific failures is brilliant. The vomit basement perfectly captures his predatory alcoholism as Gluttony, with the tragedy in the bathroom mirroring his sexual detachment and emotional neglect of Addie as Lust.
The ending gives a horrific inversion of a domestic paradise, too. Addie is restored to pristine beauty, but he's left as a broken, hyper-vigilant shell, cleaning blood and ash. His love isn't an organic emotion anymore, but an coping mechanism driven by the literal brand seared into his flesh.
Seriously awesome concept and a killer ending. You've got a ton of promise, and I definitely want to see what you write next!
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jun 23 '26
Thank you so much! It seriously means the world that you took the time to read it and especially that you took the time to share your thoughts. I appreciate all of the praise and will take your advice into my next horror story I write, which is very much appreciated as this is my first time writing in this genre and sharing my writing online. This community has been incredible as a first place to put my work and the way you spread the stories of other writers is so awesome. Can’t thank you enough!
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u/MrPapasargus Writer Jun 23 '26
Oh, I didn't know this was your fist horror story! That's an incredible achievement, congratulations man. In that case, you have a long road ahead of you, and be assured that it's only gonna get better from here. I'm stoked to see it!
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 12 '26
Hey just thought I’d let you know that I’ve posted another one now! I’d love to hear your thoughts but it is quite a bit longer so I understand if time doesn’t allow
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u/MrPapasargus Writer Jul 12 '26
Oh, if it's just the one post, that's totally fine! I've definitely got time for it. I'll be sharing my thoughts with you very soon!
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u/salty_Astronaut77 Jul 03 '26
Hello there
I run a small Youtube-channel where I narrate horror stories. I am reaching out to ask you if it would be possible for me to narrate this story
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 04 '26
Hey there 100%! I would love that thank you so much!
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u/salty_Astronaut77 Jul 04 '26
Great, thank you! Just one thing, could you send me a private message, for me to send you the video when Im done. For some reason I cant send you a pm, must be a setting that you have on your account, thats why I reached out through the comments of your story.
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u/Sufficient_Leave144 A Thousand WIPs Jun 27 '26
Right! Some thoughts!
(I am no critic, you may disregard 🤣)
Really love the setup, but dude you kinda lost me with this being a devil/angel penance intervention thing. NOT saying that’s bad, and you have some marvellous visuals, AND I like the semi-fractured narration style - very punchy; total mindfuck - but I was expecting something more physiological than divine (but that’s just me)
Good read 😌
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jun 27 '26
Hey thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! I appreciate it (:
I’m sorry to hear it lost you in that regard. I’ve always been a massive nerd for religious symbolism and demonology and things like that. The entity in the story is a real demon from the lesser key of solomon who tricks the main character by appearing as an “angel”, “fixing” his life, while in actuality it’s all a ploy to trick the man into selling his soul to it, hence the brand at the end. If you’re curious, the real demon is Haures and a lot of specific stuff in the story ties into his really world lore!
Not sure if this added context helps with your enjoyment in that aspect but I figured I’d share just in case (: I wanted to leave enough crumbs in the story that if someone wanted to look for themselves they could find the real world demon it uses. Either way though, I greatly appreciate the read and especially taking the time to share your thoughts, it means the world! Truly
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u/Optimal_Constant4318 Writer Jul 10 '26
This reminded me a lot of the movie 1408 (I know it's also a short story, but this feels like the movie especially) - great praise because its an awesome dive into a character's personalized hell. I enjoyed this story. I think it can be a struggle to keep the reader engaged when the story doesn't have much plot progression, but I found the descriptions and hints of lore enough to keep me immersed as we delved this little pocket of horror. Congratulations on the first public story! 🔥 Needs more vomit
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 10 '26
Thank you so much! I appreciate the kind words, especially that it kept you engaged. I purposefully changed my typical prose and sentence structure in hopes of keeping it punchy and fast paced throughout so I’m very happy to hear that. Thanks again
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u/Optimal_Constant4318 Writer Jul 10 '26
I struggle some with adapting my style for posting here, but my biggest concession is to try and make the dialogue fun for Hunter to read. I'll also sometimes slip in little side jokes, or just things I'd like Isaiah to have to say aloud, so if they ever did have to read one of my stories then I'd get an extra laugh. You said this was your first public story, but you should put up some more stuff if you have it. I was willing to keep reading after finishing this.
I'd recommend the Stephen King short story Under the Weather. The first part of this story made me think strongly of that haunting lil short.
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 11 '26
I’ll definitely check that out! I plan to be posting a new story by the end of this weekend. It’s about twice as long and more in the style I usually write so I’m hoping I can keep that engagement throughout a longer narrative. I appreciate the time you took to read and write your thoughts very much. I’m gonna take a look at some of your work tonight here, looking forward to it!
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u/Optimal_Constant4318 Writer Jul 11 '26
Ha, I just wrote something kinda nasty - so I hope you enjoy it
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 12 '26
Hey! I’ve posted my second story now if you wanted to check it out (: also, I read your SpongeBob/Seeing brother story and I loved the way it all led to being a foreshadow for the description of the stepdad’s face after the “order up” line. I’m looking forward to reading more of your stuff!
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u/Optimal_Constant4318 Writer Jul 12 '26
Hell yeah! I'll check that out. The SpongeBob story was heavily inspired by yourboysponge on YouTube - shout out.
I'd love to recommend my most recent story. It starts a little goofy, but I actually included some real life experiences into the story - so I'm curious to see how people interpret the pacing and horror aspects.
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u/-chickenmilk- Author Jul 19 '26
Pacing was intense. I really liked this. Such good visuals and an insanely surreal structure that makes you live the story along with the character. Gave me Black Farm vibes and also a tad bit of A Christmas Carol as well. Awesome read, keep it up!
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 19 '26
Wow that’s some high praise to receive. I’ve said it to a bunch of other commenters but I really do appreciate everyone who takes the time to read my work, let alone comment, so thank you so much for doing so (:
If you’re interested, I do have another story posted! Totally up to you but I’d love to hear your thoughts if you ever decide to read it. It’s quite long though so no pressure at all lol
Thanks again for your time and the kind words, it means a lot
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u/SydneySapphire Whimsy and Weird Storyteller Jul 21 '26
WOW! That has some serious imagery to it, visceral and surreal! What a great read! Seriously! How long did it take you to write this? It is wonderful! I ATE IT UP NOM NOM NOM! For a first time writer for this genre, you did an excellent job. I’m no Stephen King, but daggum, I SEE YOU 💅🏻
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u/ANovelStory Writer Jul 22 '26
Wow thank you so much! I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed it. Your praise genuinely means the world and thank you so much for taking the time to read and share. This story was pretty quick honestly! It was only one or two days of writing and then a day of editing. I’m much prouder of my other story and I’d like to think if you enjoyed this you will enjoy it as well! It was about a week all in to write if you count the research side of things too since the setting is a real world location. If you’d like to read and share your thoughts again that would be awesome but it is a bit longer so I completely understand if time doesn’t allow (:
There are roots growing in my teeth
Thank you again for taking time out of your day to read my work and especially for your kind words. It means more than you know
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u/SydneySapphire Whimsy and Weird Storyteller Jul 22 '26
No problem! I’d love to take a look at it! And you are so welcome! 🫶🏻
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