Saturday, June 13, 2015

THE ITCH - BY CRAIG MCGRAY - IS THIS WEEK'S SCARY SATURDAY TALE!



http://penofthedamned.com/2015/06/09/the-itch/

Are you looking for a great Scary Saturday Tale? The Itch, by Craig McGray, fills the bill nicely. You will scratch and crawl around in Damned anticipation of the next word, the next sentence, the next paragraph. Ooh, la, la! Take a walk on the wild side. Get scared out of your wits for the price of free. Click the link above and read this great story by Craig in its entirety. I have only included a little teaser below. Bad Blaze. While you're there read more of Craig's stories. They are guaranteed to please.

Blaze McRob


The Itch

Have you ever tried to get dried blood out from under your fingernails? Not just a little, but a good soaking of it. It’s a real bitch, trust me. No matter how many times I find myself standing over the sink scraping the dried up flecks from my nail beds, it never gets any easier, but the itching just won’t stop.
At some point, you just scrape too much until fresh blood starts to mix in with the old shit and it becomes even more of a mess. At least I know I’m still alive, because I bleed. If it weren’t for that, I’m not sure I would know if I was alive, dead, or something in between. Even with the bleeding, I guess I’m still not totally sure what the hell I am. I haven’t felt pain, love, happiness or sadness since the day that bitch Liza took everything from me.
She knew what she was doing the whole time. She had me doing shit I’d never thought I’d be into. I should have known something was wrong with the whole situation. No woman that hot had ever given me the time of the day, and here comes this exotic beauty that gives me the best sex of my life after an hour of bullshit conversation; no strings attached. Though, if I’m to be honest, I never was good with the ladies and I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of sexual experience to compare it to. In fact, aside from the awkward hand job from Becky under the bleachers during the homecoming pep rally senior year of high school, and the drunken, pity lay from Mary-Sue when I was a freshman in law school, I had never been with anyone but…well, myself. Geez, I’m pretty fucking pathetic. . .

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