Here, I, would like to showcase all you up and coming authors/authoress's by
allowing you to have your dark writings displayed here for all to read.
To have your own horror stories placed here, all you need to do is send me 
your story as well as your name and site address (if you have one). You will
then have your story placed upon it's own page, if you wish, you may also 
include a short biography to go at the base of your story. Needless to say 
your stories shall be credited to you. 

- Creature Feature -

"You know, if you did more with yourself, you could look like a film star" she 
said, looking up at me from under full, black eyelashes. "Are you coming in?" 
she whispered in my ear and I felt my heartbeat step up a notch as she led me 
inside. She'd picked me up in the pub, and that in itself was exciting enough 
for me to agree to take her home. I didn't know how kinky she was, but I was 
prepared to go along with most things in search of stimulation. I just wasn't 
prepared for how far she wanted to go. The flat was like a shrine to horror movies. 
Bela Lugosi smiled at me as I hung my jacket up and Pinhead beckoned me on to 
forbidden pleasures as I was led to the living room. She left to fetch a drink 
and I sat on the sofa, surrounded by the empty stares of a galaxy of monsters, 
rank upon rank of them covering every available space on the wall. 'Alien' next
to 'The Creature from the Black Lagoon.' Christopher Lee next to the 'Predator'
and many more that I wasn't able to place. 
"How do you like my little friends?" she asked as she returned. "They keep me 
safe from harm. They like someone to remember them". 
She dimmed the lights and joined me on the sofa. I moved closer to her, but she 
pre-empted my move and blocked my way with a full wine glass. "Not yet," she 
said and my mind raced at the implied promise. 
"Drink this and watch," she whispered, handing me the glass. At first I didn't 
know what she meant, then I saw the remote control in her hand and the television 
and video sprang into life. It wasn't a professional production, but it gripped 
me more than any other film I had ever watched. She was the star, and a bedroom 
was her stage. First comes the music. "Don't Fear the Reaper" drums its bass line
through the room. The camera moves slowly into focus, panning up the bed, taking 
in feet and legs before zooming out for a long shot. A man lies strapped to a bed, 
his hands and feet chained to its corner posts. Fine beads of sweat can be seen 
at his brow and it is possible to see the straining of his shoulder muscles as he 
tries to move, squirm away from something off camera. He is naked and his erection 
glistens wetly in the bright light. He has a hunted look in his eyes, like a trapped 
and caged animal, and his head moves as she comes into view from left frame dressed
in a skin-tight, translucent body stocking, painted with black tiger stripes and on 
each finger gleams a silver, inch long talon. Her hair stands loose and black around 
her head like a mane, obscuring her features, but even in the dim light she is 
recognisable. My attention was dragged from the screen by a hand on my thigh. I felt 
a doubling in my mind, caught between the screen and the reality, not knowing which
was the more exciting. 
"Do you play games?" she breathed in my ear and her hand moved up my leg. I considered 
replying, but my blood was pounding hotly and the movement on the screen demanded 
my attention. I'd never seen anything like it - hammer horrors had not prepared me 
for the depth, the resonance, the sheer undeniable reality of the actions taking 
place on the screen. The man is speaking, pleading, but his voice cannot be heard 
over the music. She moves closer to the bed. She flexes her fingers, showing the 
talons to him and you can see the terror as she brings her hand to his groin. The 
talons grip his erection and small pinpricks of blood ooze into view as the camera 
zooms in for a close up. It lingers there for a long second then pans up to his 
face as her hand begins to rhythmically caress him. He is brought to a climax and 
the pain and the pleasure are mingled in equal measure and then she stops, standing 
stock still. In close up her face shows only a blank, uninterested stare as she brings 
her head to his groin. A heavy guitar ruff kicks in on the soundtrack, just about 
loud enough to block out his screaming as she starts to feed. 
"I'm getting better," she said as the picture faded to black. "It looked quite 
professional this time. Do you think the blood was realistic enough?"
I didn't speak for several seconds, covering my confusion by taking a long gulp of wine. 
"You mean it wasn't real?" I managed to say when I'd recovered my composure.
She made a pretence of being shocked, but her eyes told a different story. I could
see the glee dancing there. 
"Of course, he was a good actor - don't you think?" She was going on before I had
a chance to reply. 
"I got bored with some of the films being made, no I thought I'd make my own". Do 
you want to see my studio"? 
She put down her drink and began to stroke my thigh more insistently. She moved 
closer and nibbled my ear. 
"We could have a lot of fun if you'd enter into the spirit of things. What do you 
say - do you play games?"
I should have said no, there and then - it might have saved some grief later, but
my hormones were taking over, the one-eyed trouser snake making my decisions for 
me. I followed as she led me into the bedroom. The walls were festooned with more
pictures, but this time there was a difference, they were all females. 'The Medusa,' 
'The Reptile' from the old Hammer movie, several of 'Dracula's wives', a couple of 
Romero's 'undead,' even the 'wicked witch' from 'Snow White,' all facing into the 
room, all watching the bed. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was getting 
involved with a seriously disturbed person, but by now my mind was racing as I made 
a grab for her, intending to tumble us both into bed. She was too quick for me. She 
danced out of reach and I fell into the bed alone. I looked up to see the camera, 
its single cyclopean eye fixed into a mounting on the ceiling.
 "It works by remote control," she said, handing me a small plastic unit. "Play with 
it if you like. I'll just go and get ready." She opened the doors of a huge walk-in 
wardrobe and closed them again behind her as she left the room. I wondered whether 
I should take my clothes off, but I wasn't sure what she had in mind. I contented 
myself with playing with the camera, trying to ignore the blank stares from the walls 
around me. I was beginning to get bored and was considering leaving when the music 
started, a wailing guitar, low at first but always building and soon the room was 
pounding with its rhythm. The lights dimmed and reddened until I could barely see, 
and then she made her appearance. This time it wasn't the cat stripes - it was a 
snake, all shimmering green scales and rippling muscle. She had painted the area 
around her eyes jet black and in the dim light they looked like holes into her 
skull. Her hair had been tied back in a ponytail which bounced behind her as she 
moved towards the bed. 
"How do you want me?" I said, trying to lighten the mood, but she didn't reply. 
She leaned forward and took the remote control from my hand and as she did so I 
saw the twin fangs in her mouth. There was a pause in the music and I heard the 
camera whirr into action. Then she was on me. I tried to play my part but she was 
strong, and every time I tried to use my hands they were knocked away. Her body 
squirmed against mine, making dry rasping noises against my clothes and, even 
above the music, I could hear her loud hissing. The feel of her body against 
mine was exciting me and I could feel the tightness in my trousers where my 
erection throbbed hotly. It wasn't long before she discovered it. Her movements 
had slowed, now languorous and undulating as her head made its slow journey down
my torso. I felt her hands at my belt, then my zip and I let out a groan as the 
erection was freed from its confinement. I lay back on the bed and saw the camera 
lens zoom in for a close up. I felt her hands on me, then almost cried out as I 
was engulfed in the velvety warmth of her mouth and her tongue sought out my most
sensitive areas. The music kicked up another gear, the guitar screeching like a 
bat out of hell and I was getting close to orgasm, then closer still as her tongue 
began to move faster. Then she started to nibble and that did it. I came, long and 
hard and I heard the camera zoom again, and just as the pleasure reached its height, 
she bit down, hard, bringing white lancing pain. I screamed and tried to kick her 
off but a lethargy was settling in and my struggles became weaker and weaker still. 
She began to move faster, her teeth working at me in a frenzy as my actions slowed. 
She took my boredom for acquiescence and bit down harder, and that did it. She'd been 
diverting for a while but enough is enough. I grabbed her head, tight, and began to 
pull her up the bed. She struggled, but I was stronger - I always am. I let my fangs
slip out at the last moment - just to let her see what true reality is all about, 
then I showed her what teeth are really for. When I left, she was still on the bed 
and the cameras were still turning. I'm sure the police had a lot of fun trying to 
figure out what she was doing all alone on the bed when they watched the film. After
all I can never be a movie star - I don't show up on film, but that doesn't stop me
being a great actor. Anyway I had to disagree with her. It wasn't so much that I 
looked like a film star. It was more than that. Film stars with their charisma, 
their larger than life personae and their exquisite taste in clothing: they all had
something similar to what I have. But not enough. No, I don't look like a film star. 
Film stars look like me.

- By William Meikle -  

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