Saturday, October 1, 2016

The Knock

It was just about midnight, that night in May
As I sat in my chair, book in hand
There was a knock, an echoing knock
I sat there, hoping they would go away
Perhaps they left, I thought
Then there was a knock, an echoing knock
I was silent, I didn't know what on earth to say
Why me? Why my house? Why were they here?
And then a bang, a jarring bang
I prayed that my door would not give way
I cowered in my chair, trying not to make a sound
Another bang, a jarring bang
I wished the sun would rise, chasing them off by light of day
I was still frightened and stiff, unable to move
Then came a rattle, a haunting rattle
Please locks, keep this person at bay
What do I do? Where can I go?
Another rattle, a haunting rattle
As I sat there, I felt fear turning my hair gray
My heart beat faster and faster
Then only silence, followed by a slow creak

 
- Storm Sandlin

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Storm Sandlin's Jack

 
 
There once was a boy named Jack. He lived in a small, rickety home at the edge of the woods with his bitter Mother and their cow, Pearly. They lived off of the money they made from the cow's milk. Then one dark and dreadful day, Pearly went dry. His mother raved of how the cursed cow needed to be taken to the market. "Perhaps slaughtered she will do us some good." she said.

Young Jack tied a rope around Pearly's neck and led her away to market. As he left he heard his mother screech, "Do not come back with less than five pounds! Remember if you disappoint me, you can sleep outside where the wolves will feed on you!" Jack did not doubt that his Mother meant this.
 
On his way, Jack schemed, how can I convince someone this worthless animal is worth ten pounds? Five for Mother and five for me.

From the trees came an old man in worn clothing. There was nothing strange in that observation, Jack would have been more surprised if he were dressed nicely. No, it was something else that sent chills through him. It was his features that bothered Jack, he soon realized. He was skeletal, hunched over, giving his weight to his walking stick. He was bald and had a long white beard. One of his eyes was grey with blindness. "Ah, Jack!" he called to the young boy in a raspy voice. "Where are you off to?"

Never having seen this man before Jack wondered how he could possibly know his name. "I am to sell my cow, she is easily worth ten- I mean fifteen pounds. Are you in need of a fine milking cow like Pearly?" 

"I have no money." his voice creaked.

"Then be out of my sight, old man." Jack sneered as he yanked the rope that was tied around Pearly's neck.

As Jack took a few steps the stranger spoke softly, "I have something far more valuable than coins."

He stopped, "Tell me more."

Jack made his way back to his home, he looked to the five beans that rested in his palm like shimmering jewels, one red as a ruby, one purple as an amethyst, one white as a pearl, one green as an emerald, and one golden as a topaz. "Senile old man," he laughed. "to give over enchanted beans for a dying cow."

He found his Mother at the stove stirring a pot of sour smelling soup. "Mother!" Jack said with a grin. "I made a deal you won't believe!"

"Ten? Did you make ten pounds?" She exclaimed, turning to look at her son.

"Much more Mother."

She came to him, the wooden spoon still in her hand, "Thirty pounds, Jack did you get me thirty pounds?"

"More Mother, much more."

She smiled and caressed his face, "How much, my boy?"

He showed her the glowing beans. She struck him in the face with the wooden spoon. "Where is the money?" She yelled.

He felt his cheek turning red as a beet, "Mother, these beans are magical! They will bring us great wealth beyond our wildest dreams!"

She ripped the beans from his hands, "These are pebbles, painted pebbles, you idiot!"

"No, Mother they're magic!"

"You are as worthless as your Father was!" His mother threw the beans out the window. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him up to the attic. "You will have no supper!"

As she left she slammed and latched the attic door. Jack was alone in the dark.

"I'll show her, tomorrow I'll find those beans and keep them for myself. I'll run away and she can wither and be feed for the rats." He was still scheming as he fell asleep.

Blinding sunlight was shining through as Jack woke the next morning. He saw a great gnarled and twisting beanstalk had broken off the east wall of the house. It seemed to go up into the sky forever, and endless mass of green, grey, and black.

"Jack!" his Mother screeched, he heard the attic door unlatch. He ran and leaped to the enormous beanstalk, climbing the leaves and vines, avoiding the thorns. He saw his Mother standing on the crumbling floor, cursing at him and demanding he come back.

He turned his head and stuck his tongue out at her.

Jack climbed for what felt like a day. He began to wonder if this beanstalk would ever end. He went past the grey clouds, finding a dirt road at the top of the beanstalk. This road lead to an island in the sky. It was dark and twisting. He followed it to a house, made of black wood and bone, it was bigger than any house he had ever seen. "A castle!" he exclaimed. He pushed on the door that must have been twenty feet tall. Eventually it opened with a whining creak. He walked through and looked up to see a woman in grey . A Giant! he thought.

She bent down to look at him, he saw that up close she was pretty with green eyes and red hair. "Hello there," she said in a whisper so he would not be knocked down.

"Hello," Jack said. "Would you happen to have any food?"

"Oh, child, you best be leaving, my husband likes to take children, suck them dry of their blood, peel off their skin with his knife, and roast them with garlic and onions."

Jack thought she was just being selfish. After all, just one of her crumbs would feed him for a day. "Oh, please ma'am. My father and mother are both dead, and - and I have not had a single morsel of food this week." he grinned inwardly at his flawless performance.

"Alright," she caved, giving him some bread and cheese and pouring some milk into one of her thimbles.

After Jack ate there was a loud thud as someone came in and slammed the door. "That's my husband!" she exclaimed, scooping Jack up and putting him into her apron pocket. Jack could see only a little as the thinness of the apron cast a shadow upon everything.

He was ghastly, not just a giant, but an ogre. His nose and eyes too wide, he grunted showing the four rotting teeth he had left. His face and scalp were covered in boils and blisters. He made Jack think of a swamp frog, only much more terrifying. "Wife, make my breakfast!" he thundered as he threw down three dead calves onto the table. Jack saw his sleeves were stained with blood.

"Yes, sir." she said.

He inhaled deeply, "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman, be he alive, or be he dead, I'll have his bones to grind my bread."

"Husband, it must have been your meal from last night. Wash up and I'll have your breakfast soon."

The ogre left the room and his wife opened the pocket to tell Jack, "Wait until he takes a nap after breakfast and then you will be safe to go."

Once the ogre had his fill he started to count his bags of gold coins. He fell asleep, dropping one of the velvet bags onto the floor. That is when she took Jack out of her pocket and placed him on the floor. "Now be off, you will be safe if you do not come back!"

As he dashed for the door Jack grabbed the fallen sack of gold, looking up to see the ogre drool green drops onto his chest. While he was fleeing the giant's property, he heard the cackle of a goose. He turned just in time to see it lay a golden egg. His eyes widened with greed. "Can you lay another one?" he asked. And so it did. He picked up the goose and continued running to the beanstalk. He threw down the sack of coins and clung to the bird as he climbed down. When he reached the ground he saw his mother counting the gold coins.

"Jack, where did you get this gold?" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with greed.

"Mother, if you are happy about the coins you will love this goose I stole!"

"What does it do?" She asked skeptically, looking at what she thought was a plain goose.

He exclaimed, "It lays golden eggs on command!"

She hugged him, "I was wrong to doubt you, Jack."

A few weeks went by and all of the gold coins were spent, debts had to be paid. The goose was eaten by a wolf, blood and feathers everywhere. So Jack climbed the giant, twisting beanstalk once more. Making his way back to the large home he found that both the ogre and his wife were gone. He saw the door was ajar and let himself in. As he looked for some more golden things, he heard the giants walking in, so he hid under the rug, under a chair where no one would step. He held back a scream as he found other children's bones, piled up like logs on a fire.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman, be he alive, or be he dead, I'll have his bones to grind my bread." The ogre boomed, shaking the house.

"You are mistaken, it is still the scent of the last child I cooked for you, remember that fat boy with the dark hair? You need to relax." She dared not tell him of Jack.

"Bring me my harp and I shall." he roared. 

So she did. And he commanded the harp to sing. As it sang she looked all over for the young boy. The voice of the harp was haunting and beautiful, "He traveled across sea and land, to hold and kiss her hand, They were soon master and bride. And he boasted of her with pride."

The ogre shut his blood-red eyes and slipped into a dream, a wicked smile on his terrible face.

Jack sensed the coast was clear. He ran out from under the rug, snatched the harp and once again fled.

The harp screamed in a ear-splitting tone, "Foolish boy, you tried to steal. You will be smashed under my master's heel!"

Once outside he ran as the ogre lunged after him. The island in the sky rattled. The ogre lost track of Jack on the long, twisting road as the clouds drifted upward. The ogre took his hands and swept the clouds aside. He searched, growling and roaring. Finally he found the top of the beanstalk. He knew this must have been the way the thieving boy escaped.

Jack was now close to reaching the ground. His Mother came when she head the harp singing, "You climbed down the beanstalk to escape my master, when he reaches the ground it will be a disaster."

"Mother, bring me an ax!"

She looked up, saw the ogre and ran for the ax. She brought it to him at once. He struck the beanstalk. And struck it again. From the gaping holes black tar slowly flowed, as blood flowing from a wound, and a pungent scent filled the air. "It's going to take too long Mother, what shall I do?"

"Keep trying!" she said as she ran back inside. She took her broom and lit the bristles from the fireplace. She then ran back out and lit the stalk on fire. It burned quickly, the horrible smell growing worse, and a thick, black cloud of smoke rising all around them. The ogre saw the black smoke and looked down to see the scorching beanstalk. Up or down, up or down? he thought. The heat was causing the top of the beanstalk to wilt and droop. He jumped, shaking the earth as he fell upon the small forest. He perished as many trees impaled him, and his blood washed over the land.

Jack's mother held her boy, "Let's go sell the harp."

"What of the beanstalk, Mother?"

"It will burn out, and if it takes the house with it, so be it. A singing golden harp will buy us the life I always deserved, I mean we always deserved."

As they walked forward, they heard the snapping of vines. They looked back to see the beanstalk was falling. They ran. The beanstalk was falling so quick. And sure enough, they could not escape. It fell on top of them, crushing them to death. The beanstalk continued to burn until the house, Jack, and his mother, were all but ash.

From the road came the man who traded the beans for Pearly. Gazing at the desolate scene he commanded, "Sing!"

The harp did as it was told and lifted its voice mournfully, "I used to live in an island in the sky, now I am below. I will bring to you more wealth than you will ever know."

He snatched the harp up. As he looked back to the enormous pile of ash he laughed, "I can always count on the greedy to do my bidding." The old man stuck out his withered hand and the five shimmering beans arose from the ashes. He grinned as they once again rested in the palm of his hand.

Friday, July 29, 2016

A Chill in the Air

Storm Sandlin's A Chill in the Air contains over 190 pages of thrilling horror stories and delightfully disturbing poetry! Over 100 copies already sold! Get your copy now! A Chill in the Air can be found on amazon.com or for a signed copy, you can reach us by email at cornwellwilliams@att.net. Do you already have a copy? Rate and review it on amazon.

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Canned Corn


It was a hot summer day in 1954 when a little town in Georgia was shaken.

As the story goes little seven-year-old Betsy Monroe was coloring at the kitchen table as her mother Sadie was making pancakes, her spatula in one hand and cigarette in the other. The air was full of smoke.

Betsy’s childhood was hard. Two months ago her mother kicked out husband number four, who was by far the nicest.

The phone rang, who the caller was didn’t even matter to Betsy; all she knew was her mother was busy laughing while the pancakes burnt and there wasn’t enough batter for more. Her stomach was empty, her red hair was filthy and her arms were covered in cigarette marks.  Sadie came back in, waving her hands, cursing due to the blacking smoke. “Well, now I need to throw these out!”  She yelled.

Sadie started dish water. The sound of the hot water rushing and hitting the sink put Betsy into the trance like state.  Sadie turned to her daughter as she lit another cigarette, “Sometimes I can’t believe how bad my life has become.”   Betsy turned her focus back to her coloring.

As Sadie started to clean the pan, Betsy slipped away from the table and into the pantry where she found one can… a can of corn. Sadie was still washing the dishes as Betsy quietly pushed a kitchen chair towards her mother’s hunched over back. She stood on the chair and took a deep breath. Then with all of her might she hit her mother in the back of her head with the canned corn.

Sadie fell to the black and white tile floor. Betsy jumped down, she looked at her mother for a while and then at the dented can in her shaking hand. Sadie started to move her hand; Betsy knew that she could not let her mother live if she ever wanted to be happy. She started to strike her as hard as she could, one bone cracking blow after another. No one knows when Sadie was really killed, a few days passed since any one heard from them and a neighbor Doris Wright came to see them. Doris was soon in shock and tears. Sadie’s face was deformed; cuts and welts made it look as if she was beaten by a team of men with brass knuckles. Her hair was a matted bloody mess. Next to her was a dented can.

Doris turned around to find Betsy coloring. There were hundreds of pieces of paper full of black swirls and zigzags. 

Since that day Betsy has never talked, she just sits and colors by the window of her room at the town’s mental hospital.              

Saturday, February 13, 2016

St. Valentine's Day 1882

With a full quiver of arrows and an ivory bow 
Cupid aims for pure and true love, as you know
But miss Effie Moore was cheated and wronged 
Her heart was ready for love and she had longed 
But Cupid knew that her beau Edward Malone 
Was meant to marry pretty miss Lucy Stone
In the woods Effie found the wandering winged child 
Her anger boiled over and she planned something wild
She called his name and offered chocolate cake 
He was sweet and trusting, that was his mistake 
With her letter opener that looks like a long sword
She cut his neck and he died without a last word 
Effie was pleased, she took his arrows and the ivory bow 
A knock at Lucy's door had her beaming a glow 
She was surprised to see Effie on the other side 
Miss Moore shot Lucy Stone with an arrow, on the floor she lied  
She walked Brewer St. to the Malone home to kill the sap 
In the parlor she found Edward asleep taking a catnap 
Effie whispered in his ear, "You will never again wrong me" 
His eyes opened and a scream came out "You are crazy Effie!"
She took the ivory bow and began to bash in his face 
Edward's blood stained Effie's white dress of French lace
Pleased with how well it all turned out, she went on her way 
At the Malone boy's funeral she was the only one in gray 
Then it was put together and the cops came for Effie Moore 
She was missing, some say she was now living by the sea shore
 
                                                                                            - Storm Sandlin
                                                                                            May All Your Nightmares Be Relived

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Just A Game

Ruby flames of candles flicker and the night air is still
I watch the board as the eye moves to the spirits' will
The other side is coming through, I hear the moans...
A portal is now open, the clock chimes echoing tones
Supernatural forces surround, this is nothing like I planned
Deep fear overcomes me, I cannot move, frozen I stand
M-U-R-D-E-R the word is spelled, my heart races
On the wooden floor I hear disembodied paces
The flames burn out; I am not alone in the dark
A haunting song, words unknown sing like a devilish lark
I am blind in the shadows, looking for a way out, I seek hope
Ice cold hands hold me; this is beyond anything I can cope
Laughing of this demonic, unholy thing fills the room
My last breath exits my body, I know inescapable doom
I now look down to see myself just a lost soulless shell
It was just a game; I'm in a shadow filled world where nothing is well

Friday, September 4, 2015

Yes it is I


Yes it is I, the one who sends chills down your spine
Yes it is I, the one who flashes behind you in the mirror
Yes it is I, the one who makes the untraceable sound
Yes it is I, the one who whispers things in your ear
Yes it is I, the one who stares holes into your soul
Yes it is I, the one who makes your nightmares come true