I’ve written briefly about the concept of Christian horror in my blog on Charles Williams and I’ve also mentioned my dalliance with Microfiction. The two intersect on a website that I occasionally contributed to – MicroHorror.
MicroHorror is now no longer live, and I hadn’t written anything for it in nearly four years, but buried on there is my one attempt to communicate something meaningful through horror. It’s a mere 200 words, and it’s called ‘For Sale’.
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Come… on… MOVE… you… son… of… a…
Muscles bulged but the jar lid remained unrepentant. This was getting embarrassing. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, such a simple idea. Offer to open the new jar for the girl in the kitchen. Impress the girl of his dreams. She didn’t look impressed right now. She looked bored.
I… can’t… believe… this… is… happening…
Still no movement. Not even a fraction of a fraction. The girl had stopped looking bored and was now beginning to look faintly amused. He didn’t know which was worse.
She’s… laughing… at… me… please… open… please… I’ll… do… anything…
Suddenly a hissing, slithering voice whispered in the silence, in the deepest backdrop of his mind.
“Anything?”
“…for the ability to open a jar of sun-dried tomatoes? Really?”
The first demon sounded shocked and a little disgusted. The second demon nodded dolefully.
“There’s no challenge these days. It’s just not fun anymore,” he moaned. The first demon finished the document with a flourish of his pen, and slowly shook his head.
“You know what I reckon? I reckon those humans have stopped taking their souls seriously.”
