Tuesday, December 2, 2014

ENOUGH - BY ZACK KULLIS - THIS WEEK'S TERROR TUESDAY!

Oh, Damnlings. We offer you so much horror. Will enough ever be enough? Never, we say... ENOUGH http://wp.me/p2iKoL-IL this week's newest ‪#‎horror‬ from Zack Kullis of Pen of the Damned @ZKullis
The moonless night embraced Chris as he stood in the foothills high above the small town. He cowered underneath the empty sky and swallowed the bile that was his self-loathing. Disgust paraded acro...
penofthedamned.com
 
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 Zack Kullis writes some gritty horror, but I believe this to be his most frightening tale yet. Enough tells the story of a man who is at his wits' end, until he finds the answer for his woes, brutal though it may be.
 
I have only enclosed a tidbit to grab your interest. Go to our website and read Zack's great tale in its entirety. While you're there, read more of Zack's stories and those of the other members of the Pen Of The Damned. They are all Dark, Damned, and free!
 
Blaze McRob
 
 
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Enough

The moonless night embraced Chris as he stood in the foothills high above the small town. He cowered underneath the empty sky and swallowed the bile that was his self-loathing.
Disgust paraded across his wounded soul like an ugly Mardi Gras procession, its movements suggestive of cutting, its rhythm a macabre lurching. Chris covered his ears in the quiet. Even when he was alone, he heard the ceaseless badgering that spewed out from the world. It berated his every move and word.
Work, school and seemingly every moment of his existence were filled with ridicule and scowls that screamed he wasn’t good enough. A few years ago he had reached out to somebody at the suicide prevention center, but the volunteer told him he was being a selfish kid that was just looking for attention. Even killing himself wasn’t enough. He screamed to the night until his throat hurt.
With the exception of his mother, he had never been good enough. She loved him and cherished him regardless of what happened, until dementia robbed her mind and callused her heart. His loneliness and aching consumed him after she was gone. It was all too much. A second guttural cry erupted from his quivering lips as Chris cursed the great emptiness above him.
He looked up at the sky, made blurry by wet eyes, and wondered why darkness couldn’t be darker, why the blade never cut deep enough. The blood was never enough to carry him away, and the darkness of the night was never enough to hide him.
“It’s never enough,” he whispered . . .

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