Category Archives: horror

Monster X

By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/13/13

How was I going to break myself?  This question was a constant, every time I made it to the top of the stairwell.  I guess the location was my answer, but had yet to trigger my brain to find the courage.  The courage it would take to hurl myself down the 14 cement steps.  The thought always danced through my mind, but I didn’t want to go back to my multi-daily visits with Syringe.

They knew I was getting better.  Upon return to my room each time, they immediately chained me to a steel rod, which ran from ceiling to floor. When it was time to sleep, the bed restraints were enforced. Maybe this is why I hadn’t heard from Hope.  Maybe she was unable to get to the wall.  I needed to know if she was still alive.  Were they training her?  Was she part of this horrendous plan of revenge too?  She had to be near for me to hear her through the wall, but the hallway outside gave no hints to any other rooms.

I walked slowly up and down the hall.  I don’t know how long they gave me, but this was part of my routine.  Warm up and then I jogged back and forth.  My eyes scrutinized the wall to find some clue that I wasn’t alone.  Then I saw it.  Although the door was disguised to match the stone wall, I could make out the frame.  It gave itself away at the bottom where it failed to completely reach the floor.

I put my mouth to the small crack, “Are you in there? Can you hear me?” I screamed. There was rattling of restraints.  “Make another sound if you hear me.”  A consistent chain rattling followed.

Before the next question left my mouth, the left side of my face exploded.  Footsteps was pounding my body as I fought to escape back to my open door.  I ran through my doorway only to plow into Maniacal, who threw me down on my bed.  His hand closed around my neck before I could catch my breath.

“I will torture you to death.  You know that don’t you?  I thought you knew to be a good girl.  I thought with all the nice treatment and food you would show some sort of appreciation.  The only thing you did by finding yourself a little friend is bring her torture.  She will pay for your curiosity.”  He gave me a shove as he released my throat and signaled Footsteps.

“No please.  I’m sorry.  I do appreciate you.  Don’t hurt her please.  I’m sorry,” I begged.

“I can’t hurt you precious.  You are too valuable to me right now.  She’s the second phase.  You’re the first.”  Maniacal closed and locked the door behind him.  I was not restrained, but it didn’t matter.  I crumbled as I heard Hope scream.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, kidnapping, Monster, violence

Monster IX

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/22/13

What did it mean to have control of my body? Was it actual physical control? Or was it the ability to do with my body what I wanted?  I didn’t want to do what they were telling me to do.  I was somehow fighting against the healing of my body.  Being able to walk, although my only means of escape, could also prove my detriment.  Reinjuring my ankles lingered in my thoughts, but I wrestled with lengthening my stay in hell.

They allowed me access to the stairs at the end of the dark hallways.  Some sort of informal training for my controlled release.  A door with a heavy padlock and chain guarded the top of the staircase.  I’m sure it used a form of video as backup.

With only one door in the hallway, I seemed to hold the only reservation, but Hope had to be close.  Although I hadn’t heard from her in days, there was the familiar sound of restraints against a wire cot.  They must have restrained her and she couldn’t get to her wall.  Or maybe her ankles had met the same fate mine had and she was now receiving visits from Syringe.

Footsteps arrived with my food.  Apparently while dwelling so close to the last stop in hell, Thanksgiving had arrived.  He brought two plates mounded with food I had forgotten existed.

“We need you to fatten up a bit, put your weight back on,” Maniacal appeared and spoke from the doorway.  “The time is drawing near and we can’t have you fail, just because you’re hungry. Be a good girl and eat up.”

I savagely devoured all I could.  I don’t think I used my hands as I felt my tongue brush against the plate at times.  Before I could see the bottom of the second plate, my body rejected the first meal.  My stomach had held nothing more than a red concoction and an occasional serving from Syringe.

I couldn’t control my vomiting, but I noticed my ribs had healed.  There was no pain in the heaving as before.  I can’t get well.  I had to take control of my body and break it again.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, kidnapping, Monster, violence

Monster VIII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/20/13

“AAAAHHH,” I screamed in pain as Footsteps dragged me to a standing position.

My friend, Syringe, hadn’t come to visit me in…well…long enough for me to be in pain for hours…days…weeks…
Ever since I had come to this dreaded dungeon of horror, standing had not happened. I hadn’t thought about my legs, never mind using them. As he held me upright, I realized my ankles were not the only things Syringe was nursing. There were constant darting pains in my back. I had expected pure waste to engulf my nakedness, but my vertical stance proved me wrong. At some point, someone had washed me.

Footsteps let go of me, which sent me crashing to the floor. My legs had forgotten their function. They had not had to support me since I came here. “UP!” he shouted at me. “UP!” with a quick snatch of my arm I was upright. I wobbled under the excruciating pain. “WALK!” he shouted at me again. His insanity was maddening. Although there was no longer swelling in my ankles, their obvious purple hue should have told their own story. “WALK!” He grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him, forcing my wrenching first steps. “AAAAHHH!” I screamed with my second.

Maniacal appeared behind Footsteps, “There you go. You didn’t think we brought you here to rot away did you? You have to get those legs of yours nice and strong again. You have a lot of work to do. You were a bad girl and now you have to make right.”

He turned me around and tore something from my back. “Ah, your sores have healed nicely. How are those ribs of yours?” He came inches from my face, “You’re mine. Don’t get any ideas. I own you for the rest of your life. You do anything I don’t like, well, then you’re his,” he turned to a smiling Footsteps who placed his hand down his pants.

They left and I collapsed to the floor. I dragged myself to the wiry cot and I heard Hope again. “Hello. Hello. Is anyone there?” It was almost a whisper, but so crystal clear. “I know you’re here. I hear you cry out at night. Where are you?”

“I..I..I’m here. I just don’t know where here is. Or where your ‘here’ is. Who are you? I think I heard you say my name the last time. Do you know where we are?” I didn’t want to stop talking to Hope. I didn’t want Hope to leave me again.

“They’re coming. I hear them. Whatever you do, don’t tell them anything. They don’t know anything. Remember that. They know nothing. But we know everything.” Hope disappeared to the sound of Footsteps returning.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, Monster, violence

Monster VII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/19/13

I had to escape. Things I never thought I would l have to tell myself. Being bound and broken in a damp darkened basement was for the movies, it definitely wasn’t meant for my reality. I was going to chalk up my captivity to weeks at this point. It wasn’t due to counting the sun rises and sets, but the healing of my wounds, or lack of, at this point.

My ankles were far from healing. They left me begging for the drug that kept me captive. I fought my eyelids for mere seconds after the syringe delivered my only joy. Was I awake? Who is calling me? I floated to an upright position, I think. I was standing at the wall, but I knew I couldn’t stand. What’s happening? Who’s calling me?

There it was again. My name. A woman was calling my name.
“Hello,” I responded this time. I think I did. I couldn’t hear my voice, but I know I responded.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Come here. Please help me,” the voice pleaded. But the voice was not that of a woman, but a child.
“Hello. What’s your name? Who are you?” this conversation was the closest thing I had to hope. “Ssshh. Don’t say anything. Pretend you’re asleep,” I warned as I heard heavy footsteps.

The footsteps stopped in front of my door. I rushed to my bed before they could inflict any damage to my body. As the door swung open, I realized I had never moved from my bed. I still lay strapped to the bed in archaic leather restraints. The conversation was in my head. My hope was in my head. I was alone here, with this animal.

I turned my head to see where the footsteps were. Focus eluded me, with only the faint light from the hallway. This had to be my mealtime, which I’m not sure, but maybe a day had passed since I had received my last serving of the red concoction.

Footsteps approached me with the food and smiled viciously. I knew his thoughts before he spread my legs with his foot. He fumbled with his belt buckle and dropped the food to the floor.

“Now, now, that’s not how we treat our guests. Go and get her some more food,” Maniacal whispered from the doorway. How could I be happy to hear the man who was the cause of all this? How could I want to thank him?

“I’m sorry for his behavior. He was raised with no manners. Now how are those ankles of yours coming?” He reached over and I’m not sure if he touched me. Pain was normal, so what was pain? “Healing just right. You’ll be ready to leave in a few more weeks. And when you leave this time, you’ll do it right.”

© Mia L. Hazlett 2013

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, Monster, Uncategorized

Monster VI

Monster VI
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/28/11

Was I really in my bed? It didn’t seem real, but here I was. My room reflected order, but my memory obeyed a reality I struggled to comprehend. I remember darkness, crashing, and a deep relentless pain. Finally I swung my feet to the side of my bed and stood. The sun beamed through my white window sheers shining brightness on my new day.

Although I stood surrounded by perfection, a putrid odor wafted through the air. Each inhale strengthened the sickening feeling within me. I gagged and coughed. The cough buckled me and a searing pain engulfed my torso. As I held my stomach, I inched my way to the top of my stairwell. My blurry stare outlined a massive human silhouette. Even though I stared down my stairs, the figure loomed over me.

I released my torso and straightened my back. The looming figure seemed to be made of air as I grabbed for it to steady myself. With no contact made, I lost my balance and tumbled head over heels down the stairs. I writhed in excruciating pain, but still the looming figure remained over me.

I couldn’t tell if the touch came from it or me, but this time I could feel something near my feet. The more my eyes struggled to remain open and focus, the darker my surroundings became. It felt as though my feet were being lifted into the air, as the darkness encompassed me. I could see my stairwell, but with the diminished sunlight that had so recently illuminated my upstairs, I couldn’t see past the second step.

I tried to turn away from the stairs and onto my back, but with the reintroduction of the putrid odor, I released my stomach contents with a hurl. Now I was back in the small room. Instead of the floor, I was on a wiry raised cot. My legs were taped together on a slat of plywood, which did not allow me to turn my body. My stomach contents soaked my hair, and I realized the stench was me. I don’t think it was the first time I threw up, nor had I been afforded the opportunity to use a bathroom.

As the blurry figure came into focus, I remembered the sledgehammer. Immediately I tried to move my feet, but I couldn’t feel them. The man came closer to me with some sort of syringe in his hand. As the needle was merely inches from my arm, the door opened. The maniacal laugh sent me back to my sunny bedroom as the contents of the syringe emptied into my arm. I was home again.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, kidnapping, Monster, violence

Monster V

Monster V
By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/6/11

They didn’t take Silhouette with them, so I muscled through all the pain to turn my back to her. I couldn’t stomach the blood pooled around her lifeless body. The hopelessness of my situation battled my need to escape. I couldn’t die here. I knew they would kill me, but when? How? I had to escape.

I turned my body flat on its back. I needed to put myself through a self-check to see what parts still worked. It began with my legs. There seemed to be nothing wrong with them. A slight soreness in my right thigh from the trunk ride, but I knew I could stand, walk, and run. Check, check, and check. My arms themselves could move fine, but the torso they were attached to could not withstand their mobility. I was sure I had at least a broken pinkie on my right hand and a broken wrist on my left. My entire front and back took most of the punishment, so I felt sore all over. My ribs offered the most pain of all. Inhaling was kept to short intakes. Next in line to my torso, was my head and face. They caught their own set of treatment from being hurled into my dresser and pulled off of my bed feet first.

The only thing I could think of next was to stand. I had been laying on this floor since they put me in here. I didn’t think a day passed, but I wasn’t for sure. I had to turn to my stomach and push myself up with my right arm. My left wrist wouldn’t be able to take any weight. I was able to roll gently to my right side and then I rested. I was now staring into the dead eyes of Silhouette. I had to do everything I could to avoid her lifelessness. I pushed and was now on my knees, when I heard footsteps.

By the time I got back to my fetal position the door swung open. There was only one set of footsteps approaching me from behind. I wished I had laid facing the door instead of the wall. A heavy hand swung my shoulder and swiftly had me on my back. Before I knew what was happening, there was a small heavy sledgehammer pounding my left ankle. “It seems like you were getting some ideas,” he said before he then hammered my right ankle and I passed out.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, Monster

Monster IV

Monster IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/16/11

I couldn’t say anything. Through the dim light and the small slit in my right eye, I saw a lean silhouette approaching me. I wasn’t sure if I turned my head towards her voice, but she was now whispering in my ear, “They’re going to kill us. I think I’ve been here for two or three days, I’m not sure. They got me on Sunday. Do you know what day it is?” I knew I had been brought down here with the dawning of a new day. If it was still the same day right now, then it was Friday. I went to bed Thursday night and they took me Thursday night. Today was Friday.

I don’t know if I told her it was Friday or was just thinking it, but our conversation or my thoughts were interrupted by steps outside of my small dungeon. The clang of the lock set Silhouette into an uncontrollable tremble. Her relentless grasp tortured my arm with a pain, but my mind transferred to that pain, rather than the aching of my ribs. I returned her tremble as the step with the light knock I heard at my house came into earshot, step, knock, step, knock… and then the maniacal laugh. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Silhouette screamed as they tore her from my side. I’m not sure if I reached out to hold her or if she had just not released her grip from my arm. I believed the latter, because she tore my sleeve and I now saw it dangling from her weak fist. She was thrown against the wall opposite me and all I could do was watch as Maniacal slammed his cane across her face. When I tried to turn away from her second blow, I was placed in a choke hold and made to watch as they beat her to death. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Maniacal crawled towards my face as it was thrown back to the ground. His low whisper terrorized more than his laugh, “You thought you could escape me? You thought I was going to never find you? I found you four years ago. How do you like that? I’ve been watching every little thing you do for the past four years. I could of taken you at 6:00 am in the parking lot at the park where you jog every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning. I helped you when you dropped your keys trying to get in your car after you bought your coffee and newspaper like you do every morning on the way to work. You let me come into your house and repair your air conditioner. I’ve been everywhere you go for the past four years. You can’t hide from me. I found you. I’ve got you. And just between you and me, you’re going to die here.” She was right, they were going to kill us.

Leave a comment

Filed under death, fear, fiction, horror, Monster, violence

Monster III

Monster III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

With the slightest bump, my head seemed to crash against the steel pillow in the trunk that now jailed me. Nothing I did would release my legs or arms from their bondage. The tape over my mouth was suffocating and I had to remind myself to breath through my nose. I had to shift off my side and the tire they had thrown me on. My broken ribs couldn’t take one more hit.

The car began to slow and I stifled all movement. Then came the laugh, that maniacal laugh. All movement ceased. Car doors slammed. The trunk opened. I was lifted and thrown to the ground. A dog came and sniffed me. He was called away. I was left on the dirt behind the car.

I’m not sure how long I remained on the ground. It was still night so I knew we hadn’t driven far from where I lived. I was thankful that I fell asleep, because that was the only thing that kept the pain away. When I woke, dawn was making its presence. The dog from before slept less than a foot away. I tried to inch my way onto my back. Any sudden movement would reintroduce me to my broken parts.

Before I turned completely over, there was a swift shattering kick to my back. The dog scurried under a truck as I was heaved into the air. My screams didn’t make it beyond my taped mouth, but I couldn’t take the hefty shoulder that was stabbing my fractured ribs. With a deep rooted evil, he made a quick jump up with each step.

The walk took us through the woods to a clearing, which held a shack of some sort. We entered and descended down a stairwell into the same darkness I had experienced at my house. I couldn’t focus beyond my pain, but there was an soft audible crying coming from the pitch blackness that surrounded us.

I was thrown onto a mattress and introduced to a dim light from the corner of the small space. My arms, legs, and mouth were set free. Within seconds the door shut and the locked turned. I protected my pain by staying in my fetal position. There was no where I could go, so I decided not to irritate my wounds.

There wasn’t much I could see from my position, but then there was that crying again. I wanted to answer it with comfort, but I couldn’t withstand another blow of any kind. I was not sure how close or far my captors were. My consciousness refused to remain consistent, so I lost track of time. Minutes, hours, or days could have passed without my knowledge. I just knew movement equalled pain, so I remained in my little ball.

Awoken again, this time to the sound of the lock being undone and the door opening. There was a scuffle of feet. I don’t know if I was dreaming or if my eyes were swollen shut, but now that faint crying was sharing my space.

The cry spoke to me, “Linda? Linda is that you?” Shit! They had her too.

Leave a comment

Filed under fiction, horror, Monster, violence

Monster II

Monster II
By: Mia L. Hazlett
8/12/10

I ran down the stairs with the expectation of a chase. I steadied myself against the wall near the front door. No chase. The blinding light and noise remained, but no chase. Pain riddled my body from head to toe. I tried to focus on my surroundings, but nothing seemed familiar. I just needed to open the front door to end this nightmare.

My legs wobbled as I reached for the doorknob. And then it was gone. The noise. The lights. They disappeared and the blackness returned. I grasped desperately to find the knob. Nothing. The knob didn’t move and the door didn’t open. My hands followed the wall until they came to a massive leather jacket. The same jacket that had just terrorized my bedroom.

Massive arms embraced me and I could only hear my breathing and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. Beyond the footsteps and my quick breaths, there was a faint knocking with each step. I tried to release myself from my captor, but all movements were stifled with a blow to my face. I was sure it was my tooth I swallowed. My feet dangled but I was sure I was moving as I floated towards a consistent tapping. The floating ceased and then there was laughter coming just inches in front of my face. That laugh. They had found me. After six years, that laugh had found me.

Leave a comment

Filed under fear, horror, Monster, violence

Monster

Monster
By: Mia L. Hazlett

My bottom lip trembled as a bead of sweat slowly crawled down my terrified brow. The blackness that surrounded me would not give way to the noise that had stirred me only minutes before. I was too petrified to call out or even move. My alarm clock that usually sent its reddish glow across my nightstand let me know there was no power in my house. I tried to scan my bedroom for a glimpse of an outline of something familiar, but it was too late when I discovered my open door.

Suddenly as I muscled up the courage to scream, I was dangling in midair. There was a crushing vise squeezing my nose and mouth…then a piercing pain driving itself through my lower left side. I know I was screaming, but not even the hint of a whisper was heard in my pitch dark room. My legs kicked frantically to find some sort of footing, but they failed miserably to the massive strength that held me hostage.

The pain seared throughout my entire body as I crashed into my solid maple antique bureau. I landed on my back and gasped for a much needed breath of air. Before I could catch a full breath and gain any focus, the monster was on me again. I clawed wildly in hopes of letting it know I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I was useless against its power. My headboard stopped my hurling body. As my face tried to recover from the crushing impact, a grip handcuffed my ankles and pulled me violently to the floor. My head hammered the floor and drove my tooth through my bottom lip.

But as suddenly and violently as it had begun, it was over. I heard the retreating footsteps down the stairs, and lay motionless on my bedroom floor. I wasn’t sure if it was my front or back door, but I heard the familiar slamming sound. Before I could move, I was blinded by light and a blaring cacophony of noise, as all my radios and stereo blasted at full volume throughout my house.

My broken bloodied body brought itself to its knees. I knew with the loud music, someone must have called the police by now. But whatever had just happened, it was over now. I had lived through a malicious nightmare. I slowly eased myself off of my knees and faced my mirror. I screamed in terror at the smiling face behind me. One monster was still here.

1 Comment

Filed under fear, fiction, horror, Monster, violence