Tales Of Gore

Perfection

2012-08-12T22:41:00.002-04:00

Perfection

Every time Gilbert put on the make up the voice of his dead father reverberated through him. He could never do this when his father was alive but since he died two years ago in a car accident, Gilbert put the make up on almost every night and practiced his routines in front of his stuffed animals and his dead mother's doll collection. As he applied his make up he saw his first clown at the fair when he was four and wanted nothing more than to be a clown himself but it was something his father, a southern Baptist preacher would never allow. He crept into his parents room that Saturday morning after the fair and finding his mother's make up. He felt tremendous joy as he applied it to his face, trying his best to copy what he saw the day before at the fair with white powder, blue eye shadow in big circles around his eyes and red lipstick. Gilbert created the big exaggerated smile with his mother's lipstick and it made him look so happy. He created a new face that hid the misery of his young life behind a face that was all about joy and laughter.

“Make up is for whores!” his father yelled at him as a strong backhanded slap sent his four year old body sprawling. “Is that what you are boy? You a Jezebel whore? You gonna give yourself to every man that comes along with a dick and some money?” His father grabbed him by the throat as his mother watched meekly from the corner of the living room careful not to make eye contact with her husband. The corner of any room was the place his mother retreated whenever his father turned violent on her or the kids.

Survival

2012-05-11T14:06:00.001-04:00

Survival

By: Kristian Gore

It started four weeks ago. Meg had no idea what had happened just that whatever had happened was bad. It started with the electronics going dark. She suspected it was some sort of nuclear attack in the upper atmosphere which would explain everything electronic being fried but it didn’t explain the aftermath. The panic was expected and she was prepared for it but something else had been going on outside that was harder to pin down.

She caught glimpses of the creatures making noises outside and from what she saw they could have been human. She hoped her boyfriend had found safe haven and would meet up with her when he could. The plan had been for them to hold up in their small apartment with the provisions they had set aside in case of some sort of disaster. The plan had been to wait for the panic to subside and make it out to their “bug out” car. She stuck to the plan for the most part and with the phones down she hoped she would meet him at the car.

Most cars didn’t work because of the electronics in them but she wasn’t too concerned about the car they set aside. Even if the battery was fried they could push start it if need be. She kept telling herself he would be at the car and not to worry too much. She packed everything she thought she would need and looked at the gray, cat oblivious to everything as it napped on the back of the couch.

2012

2012-01-07T15:03:00.000-05:00

2012
By: Kristian Gore

It was just me and Marlowe now. Marlowe, an elkhound mixed with who knows what, was a rescue dog. The truth is he rescued me from many things in my life. He was grey with the curled tail of a Norwegian elkhound but maybe a bit larger. I always suspected a little shepherd or husky in him but it didn’t matter much to me but the point is he could be intimidating when he wasn’t being friendly.

It had been quite a while since Marlowe had become my only real friend as I had withdrawn more and more after my marriage ended. I could trust Marlowe and no one else. I dated now and then but it never led to anything long term. The advantage only had to share the small house with Marlowe.

Game of Curses

2011-09-15T00:48:00.008-04:00

Game of Curses

By: Kristian Gore

It was a still and foggy autumn night in the Bohemian Forest on the outskirts of the town of Vimperk in what was then Nazi occupied Czechoslovakia. The camp was small and out of the way making its disappearance from history understandable. The Gypsy family camp was well guarded for its size and the occupants were undernourished. The camp was originally meant to be a temporary stop for the travelers who were unfortunate enough to be caught as they were preparing to move deeper into the mountains for safety.

Only one escaped that fateful night and that child spent years searching for a legend of this particular clan. An adult would have dismissed such a thing believing the family member would certainly be dead by now. The stories of the Gypsy illusionist were rather horrific and the child had only heard the ones the elders deemed suitable for a child. Seven year old Hanzi had heard the stories of the tricks he would play and the death he would cause but most importantly that this distant cousin was immortal.

Still Waters

2011-07-30T12:26:00.003-04:00

Still Waters

By Kristian Gore

Available in the book "Whacked: An Anthology of Murder"
http://www.amazon.com/Whacked-Anthology-Murder-Anna-Lowther/dp/1937758052/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1343777708&sr=8-1&keywords=kristian+gore

Honeymoon

2011-07-17T23:11:00.003-04:00

Honeymoon

By: Kristian Gore

Available in "With This Ring, I Bleed, Dead"

Look for it on http://www.amazon.com/dp/1937758044/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_vr43ob1R9QG26

Confession

2011-06-09T11:46:00.001-04:00

Confession
By: Kristian Gore

So what would you like to hear? Do you want to know why? I don’t think you could understand why. Maybe I should tell you how many? I couldn’t begin to tell you that. Why not ask an alcoholic how many times he’s been drunk? I suppose I could start from the beginning but what is the beginning? When I was born? The first time I felt the life drain from another living thing?

I guess a good place to start would be my own childhood. I was bathed in hate, and I grew to love it. I won’t bore you with details but it was something that fueled my hatred of life. I enjoyed bullying the other kids but it was never enough. I needed to inflict more suffering. Finally I was able to get the rush I needed, I was able to feel the life drain from another living thing.

Lost

2011-06-09T11:38:00.001-04:00

Lost

By: Kristian Gore

It was starting to get dark and Jeff realized he had miscalculated the distance to the camp site. He had gone in as straight a line as possible but he realized he had let his mind wander too much. He figured he must have past wide to the left or right of the camp site when he tried to get back to Trish. It was supposed to be a walk meant to cool down after an argument but he now regretted doing that and wished he had just stayed with her at the camp site.

Nothing was looking familiar now so he changed direction again in an attempt to find her without calling out and admitting he was lost but as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon he started to panic. Finally he called out to her and waited a few minutes to listen for her voice. The silence was eerie. Jeff realized something was wrong but he didn’t know what it was so he called out her name again louder this time and waited once more for a response.

Darkness

2011-06-09T11:34:00.001-04:00

Darkness

By: Kristian Gore

He sat alone in the empty house. He hated being alone but he didn’t know how not to be, so he sat and watched TV. He wasn’t really watching it was just noise to keep the silence at bay. Silence would be too much to take and he knew silence would lead to despair for it is one thing to be alone and another to feel alone. He needed the noise if for no other reason than to trick himself into not feeling lonely.

It had been four months since she left and part of him just didn’t want to continue playing the daily game of pretending he was OK. In the end he knew it was for the best. Since he was a child he had been alone more than most. In some ways it was a comfort or a blessing. She of course had found someone else, someone more interesting who thought of things less but he could not help how his mind worked. He always had to question and know how things worked but not practical things or useful things. The things he felt the need to understand were things like gravity and biology.

Hunted

2011-06-09T11:26:00.001-04:00

Hunted

By: Kristian Gore

Fear pumps through my veins as I run from the creatures that chase me on this moonlit night. They were determined to kill me, I know this even though I can’t understand them. At first I had hunted them but I had only hunted them for food. Now those I hunted were hunting me and they seemed to enjoy the hunt.

I could hear the creatures getting close. I heard the heavy footsteps of the large group as they crushed the dry leaves that covered the floor of the wooded area near the town. Not trusting my hiding place anymore I sprint deeper into the woods I know so well. The creatures whistle to each other and take off after me but my fear makes me fast and I am able to distance myself from them.

Prison of Fear

2011-06-09T11:22:00.001-04:00

Prison of Fear

By: Kristian Gore

Introduction ~ Year Without Fear

Introduction: A Year Without Fear

In all the years I lived in Los Angeles I remember one year that wasn't dominated by fear. My mother had moved to New York and I was left in the care of my stepfather. I was in fifth grade and it was probably the happiest year of my childhood. It was the summer of eighty three in Long Beach California and I would soon be starting a new school again. This year would be the only time I really remember feeling safe at home. I wouldn't have to worry about violent outbursts or being told I was worthless and a burden. This was my last year in Los Angeles and part of me knew that it wasn't going to last. I don't remember hearing from my mom that year but I counted that as a good thing.

My mother had been a violent and loving person in alternating moments. Life with her meant long stretches of calm punctuated by incredibly violent rages. The rage could come at any given moment and I never knew what would set her off. I feared and loved my mother simultaneously though my step father took most of the brunt of her rage. I'm not sure but I don't think he would have allowed her to take out her frustration on me. My stepfather was an alcoholic and a very peaceful person so when my mother would go off he would simply take it. It was his role to remain calm while my mother would scream and yell. When the yelling was no longer enough she would start throwing things and breaking things of his that had meaning to their relationship. I watched as she tore apart the t-shirt he had gotten when we went to Grand Teton National park. She even sprayed Windex in his face and not once did my stepfather raise his hand to even block a punch or slap. He was a black belt in Tae-Kwon-Do but he never hit her back or raised his voice and to this day I respect him for that.