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BLACK ROSES

CABINET OF HENRI GAMUL

ANNIVERSARY

CURIOSITY PEDDLER: WEEP AND MOAN

COLD READS

HANGMAN'S DOZEN THEME

TRAILER WE WHO ARE HIS FOLLOWERS

HANGMAN'S DOZEN EP. 1

HANGMAN'S DOZEN EP. 2: THE DROWNED MAN

THE SWARM from THE BOOK OF WEIRD

THE HUNGRY FACE from THE BOOK OF WEIRD

AUDIO DRAMA: ATOMIC PLAYBOY

ELIXIR

SUNDOWNERS EP 2 SAM HILL DIED HERE

BLACKOUT CITY: DEATH RAIN

ELECTRIC CHAIR 37

RADIO PLAY: SEEING RED

HORROR ADDICTS 113

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

THE COLLECTOR copyright 2011 m.s.

                      Sitting in his chair, watching t.v., Gorman smoked the last cigarette in his pack. He watched the woman on screen laugh as a man undressed. Gorman found this bit on t.v. boring, so put out his cigarette and kicked over 19 inch cube. When it hit the floor, the backend fell out and splintered in four different peices. The t.v. sizzleed and then went mute.
                 Gorman stood from his chair and found himself looking out his window.
                  Outside he watched the rain splatter the pavement on the dark streets below. He watched a young woman rush across to the apartment building across from his. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, she would be next.
                   
                       Gorman was a collector.
                  
                And inside his closet was his next addition. A beautiful pair of blue eyes. Just like a wolfs, very deep blue, almost gray. She was from across the hallway, in 6a. At first he thought he was being  too sloppy. Surely someone has missed this young woman. But it's been two days. No one, not even the apartment mgr has been around to ask about her. Gorman often thought maybe these people have no one, no family. But of course, that was a way to ease his conscience, since his love of collecting overshadowed his love for anyone else.
                    Gorman looked at the two jars of eyeballs he had collected over five years. It was time to add one more. He'd taken the jigsaw knife from the kitchen table and moved toward the closet.
                            In an instant, the lights went out. Pure darkness.
                      Gorman struggled to find his way, knocking the two jars to the flor. Glass shattered and spread about as the eyeballs rolled underneath his feet. Gorman lost footing and fell face-first in the shards of glass.
                           The lights came back on. Gorman was on the floor rolling in the liquid that kept the eyeballs fresh and the eyeballs covered the area he lay in.
                            He touched his face, feeling several shards had penetrated the retinas of his eyes. Leaving Gorman forever in darkness.

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