“Vincent Rising” and original works at doctorgash.com

We’ve spent a lot of time with reviews at doctorgash.com, but this site is also for all of us to share our horrific visions. We have original artwork by Grant Latta and some new fiction by Scott Hallam. Check out the first few paragraphs of “Vincent Rising” and check out the rest at doctorgash.com…(and feel free to submit your work! Send it to shallam298@yahoo.com)

Vincent Rising

      Mitch Fassero eased the blue Dodge Dakota into his driveway.  The soft glow of the dashboard’s digital clock informed him the time was 3:52 am.  He was returning home from a painfully long 12-hour shift at the plastic manufacturing plant he’d called home for the last 10 years.  This, combined with a 45-minute commute down a remarkably boring road, had his eyes bleary and he craved sleep.

Mitch dragged his lanky frame from the truck’s cab into the cool fall air.  He nearly locked his keys in the car, noticing them a moment before slamming the door and trapping them inside.  Mitch took a mental inventory of the contents of the front seat (…a pair of sunglasses, water bottle, cd case…) and assured himself there was nothing more needing to go inside.  He swung the door shut and walked toward the inviting front porch of his modest ranch home in rural Saugerties, NY.

“That was a long goddamn day,” he said to himself, sliding his key into the lock.  He opened the door to the quiet solace of his foyer.  There would be no time to check his email or even grab a quick snack.  It was straight to bed for five, maybe six hours of sleep before another long day tomorrow.  “Two more,” he thought aloud, looking forward to the upcoming weekend.  Two more days.”

Mitch ran a hand through is dark shaggy hair and wandered into his unlit bedroom.  A bright beam of moonlight shone through the naked window onto his king-sized bed. It reminded him to get some room-darkening curtains which would help him sleep on nights like tonight and keep the sun out while he slept during the day while working the midnight shift.  He never usually considered things like curtains or area rugs in his bachelor-esque décor. Instead he focused on items that were more aesthetically pleasing to him, the 18-inch Freddy Kruger statue that stood proudly on his dresser, overseeing the room, for example.

Undaunted by the glow of moonlight splashing directly across his pillow, Mitch stripped down, threw on a pair of shorts, and ambled toward the comfort of his waiting blankets.  Easing into the bed, he cast a brief glance out the bare window and hesitated.  He noticed something strange in his neighbor’s yard.

“What the fuck is that?” he said to no one, drawing his face closer to the cool window.  The houses in Mitch’s development sat near each other.  It didn’t leave much privacy, but he never saw their close proximity as much of an issue. It cut down on lawn mowing, leaf raking and other dreaded outdoor chores he didn’t care to be bothered with.

Mitch gazed out at what looked like a person standing in the yard next door.  Knowing his bedroom light was out, and that he couldn’t be seen through the glass from the outside, he allowed himself to lean even closer to the window, pressing his palms against it to steady himself.  He crunched his nose and squinted for a better look.

Continue reading at doctorgash.com

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