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Thread: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 30/08/17 (Updated)

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Metal tales - Short Stories updated 30/08/17 (Updated)

    I intend here to write a few short stories inspired by song titles and the 'general mood' of a song.

    The stories will not be a 'straight lift' from each song, so don't expect linked lyrics

    Most of the songs will be Metal based, though I may sneek the odd surprising one in here or there

    These stories will tend to be on the dark side so I hope they won't put you off
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 21, 2012 at 05:13 AM.

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Paranoid (Inspired by the song of the same name by Black Sabbath)

    Are they talking about me? Are you talking about me? Why is it that everyone seems to want inside my head? I can’t seem to escape the nightmares and the ever present fears that plague my dreams.

    This is no good I have to pull myself together, I cannot continue in the same vein; I have to regain control of my mind. I cannot let them win, I cannot let you win.

    But the voices call to me they tell me what I must do, hurt, maim, destroy, kill….the voices are right, because my paranoia is what keeps me alive, it stop those who enslave me or seek to end my life from succeeding in their plans.

    So I must decide who to kill first, I’m tired of this ward, this hospital, this prison, the nurses, the psychiatrists; they say I have an uncontrollable multi-faceted personality disorder, whatever the hell that is. It’s all lies, they lie to keep me here, and I am a freedom fighter that knows the truth!

    The first is Doctor Foster, he writes my scripts, he medicates me to keep me under his control, to stop me from having free thoughts and to make real choices. I know what he is, he is an alien from the planet Yutra 6, a home for the lizard people that wish to invade earth and enslave us all.

    And the matron, Mrs Hughes the so-called mother to all, she is really a shape shifting demon in human form, she is evil personified, she has everyone else fooled, but not me! I might be paranoid, but I’m not stupid, baking cakes and bringing in biscuits for the patients. Does she take me for a fool!

    I don’t eat them, ‘cause I know there poisoned, they have yet more mind controlling drugs in them, the idiots on the ward eat them, even though I tell them that that’s what gives them dreams, nightmares, convulsions, and hallucinations, all the things that the ‘medical establishment’ use to keep us prisoners in our own minds and in this foul place.

    And then there are Nurses Stephens and Baxter, two great hulking brutes that use their physical strength to impose the will of Foster and Hughes on us. I tried to fight them once, I tried to stop them injecting me with a mind-altering substance, but they were too powerful, one sat on my chest while the other injected me with a powerful drug.

    I was only standing up for myself, but they accused me of beating up another patient and then gave me another eight months to my sentence here, as if that matters they have stuck me in here to be forgotten about, locked away so that I cannot spread the truth. More months to break my spirit and convince me that I am insane, but I’m not insane, the people at work, on the street, on the train, in the shops, they all wanted to hurt me.

    But I hurt them first.

    I hurt them because the world has been taken over; taken over by the lizard people, the demons and the human traitors that know of their existence and yet embrace them all, because they want to worship at the feet of these all-powerful and alien monsters.

    But I won’t I will fight, that’s why they put me in a secure mental institution. They say I murdered four strangers for no good reason, but there was a good reason they were lizard people, well three of them were, the other was a demon like Mrs Hughes.

    So I have been planning, they watch me constantly, they rig up cameras in my cell, but I have a way of standing so its sweep cannot cover me, the two brutes always have an eye on me two. I think that they mate with the demon Mrs Hughes, that’s how she controls them.

    But my plans are sound, I pretend to take my medication, but I manage mostly to palm it off onto one of the drones that they have here; drones, that’s what most of the other inmates are, wordless, voiceless, brainless drones, here to fill up the prison and hide the fact that those who know the truth, those like me, are also imprisoned, we are made to be submerged and swamped in a sea of insanity, to convince us that our paranoia is wrong and our views are misguided.

    Huh! My plan will be there undoing for I have been working on the drones, I have been re-programming them, I tell them the truth, I have a small but growing cadre that now listens to me, and in time we will revolt and stage a revolution from this institution. We will kill them all, and regain our freedom.

    Notes on patient 789 3264

    As can be seen from these notes discovered hidden in the patients room, we have an extreme case of paranoia on our hands.

    The patient refuses to engage in meaningful or constructive conversation with either the medical staff or his peers. Despite being here for almost three years, we have seen no real improvements in the patient’s paranoid delusions, especially those concerning the lizard people of Yutra 6 and the supposed demon possession of members of the staff.

    We have recently had to double his medication after a vicious assault upon a fellow patient, for which the patient was sentenced to another eight months incarceration. The patient will most likely remain imprisoned at Her Majesty’s pleasure for the rest of his natural life.

    This is the most acute and severe case of paranoid delusional behaviour and multi-faceted personality disorder that I have seen in nearly thirty years as a mental health professional.

    For the reasons outlined above and for both staff and patent safety, we have no choice but to treble the patients sedative medication to ensure his compliance with both taking his medication and following staff instructions.

    Dr J P Foster
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 21, 2012 at 05:25 AM.

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    McScottish's Avatar The Scribbling Scotsman
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    I'd like to request either Number of the Beast, Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter or Holy Smoke by Iron Maiden, or Breaking the Law, Metal Gods or Night Crawler by Judas Priest. Oh, and Iron Man by AC/DC. Yes or no, its up to you!

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Quote Originally Posted by McScottish View Post
    I'd like to request either Number of the Beast, Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter or Holy Smoke by Iron Maiden, or Breaking the Law, Metal Gods or Night Crawler by Judas Priest. Oh, and Iron Man by AC/DC. Yes or no, its up to you!
    Ah a request now that is interesting, I suppose I could pick a track.....but which one

    We shall see

    I hope you liked it by the way!
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 20, 2012 at 09:22 AM.

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    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Whole lotta Rosie - keep it clean

    Oh and yes, liked it - I did wonder what had happened to David Icke
    Last edited by Ybbon; November 20, 2012 at 04:47 PM.

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Quote Originally Posted by ybbon66 View Post
    Whole lotta Rosie - keep it clean

    Oh and yes, liked it - I did wonder what had happened to David Icke
    More requests...

    I hoped sombody would pick up on that

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22-11-12

    Night Crawler (Inspired by the song of the same name by Judas Priest)


    My skin crawled again, the fever of onrushing fear and disgust descending upon me, I hated it when the day turned into night, when the light of hope and humanity that lay in the waking hours of sunlight turned to the red skies of blood, before finally turning to the dark of the grave.

    It had started but five years hence, at first it had been a rumour, a mere unconfirmed piece of gossip, a whimsy that a deranged mind had dreamed up, only for it later to turn in the horror of a every night occurrence.

    The reality of it had hit home when the first person in our village had been slain, we found them, head removed, entrails ripped out, legs and arms torn asunder. As the village doctor I took on a closer examination of the body. I was alarmed to find that the slaughter had been carried out by some sort of beast.

    The victim had been a farm labourer, a large powerful man that only the strongest of assailants could have overpowered; I remembered the look on the features of the disembodied head, the fear etched into the eyes of the man as he had experienced a fear and torment beyond imaginings in his last final moments.

    The strangeness of the killing was that the man seemed so familiar to me, even though he was a newcomer to the village, and I had been absent at my studies over the years previous. It had puzzled me greatly that I recognised him, but did not know from when or where.

    Of course there had always been rumours of strange beasts on the moors, you cannot live somewhere as empty, desolate, windy and eerie without ridiculous rumours of rampaging devils and fang toothed great cats not being handed down from one generation of locals to the next.

    But this was different. For this time I had seen the evidence with my own eyes, I was at that time ‘newly minted’ as my Father liked to say to me, in other words I had only been a certified physician for a short while, but still, from that first victim that day five years ago till now I have seen such dreadful wounds inflicted virtually on a daily basis as an army field surgeon would only have ever seen on the most animated of battlefields.

    So every night the beast or the Night Crawler as it is known comes calling, the very few who have seen the beast and lived have described it to me. When the beast stands it is eight foot high, it is as black as night and covered in thick fur head to toe, it has demon red eyes, the head of a beast such as a wolf or rabid dog, and it is armed with giant ripping incisors and foot long ripping claws.

    It is a creature from the darkest of man’s nightmares, it is a beast from the house of Satan, it is straight out of hell.

    Every night the people perform the same rituals, they bolt and lock each door and window, they bar they doors with heavy wooden locking bars, hoping that the flimsy wood and brick of their homes will offer protection, though it seldom does.

    You may ask why do people not leave, why do they not just pack their belongings and leave in the daylight hours? I shall tell you why, because the beast knows who is planning to leave, that is why! On the two occasions in the very early days of the original attacks, when two families tried to leave in the daylight, their bodies were found torn, ripped to shreds and partly digested.

    I had wondered after those attacks how the beast had known, after all the families had told nobody of their departure.

    Except me that is.

    An awful dawning realisation had struck me, perhaps I had let slip and the beast had found out? But I was sure I had not wagged my tongue. Then what could possibly have happened?

    There was only one inevitable dark and foreboding conclusion the beast, the Night Crawler was me. That was four long years ago.

    Since then I have slowly remembered fragmentary bits of memories, the changing of my form when the moon turned full and silver; the bite of a rabid dog when it was due to be dispatched in a medical experiment during my last studies at medical school the most likely cause of my own and the village’s misfortune.

    And then the dreams.

    The horrifying tormenting dreams, waking dreams in the day, visions, flashbacks, hauntings whatever you would class them as. I know beyond all doubt that I am the killer I am the beast from Hell.

    I decided to end it; I would take my own life, just to ease the suffering of the people around me; how could I, a man of science, reason and compassion, a medical man, carry on with this macabre charade that was taking the lives of my neighbours.

    I have tried to shoot, stab, hang, poison and garrotte myself, nothing has worked, the Night Crawler invades my mind speaking to me and forcing me to stop my hand, it does not wish to die, only to kill.

    ‘Come to me’ it calls to me, it tells me that I am powerful that I am immortal and that humans are just my living larder.

    And I am powerless to resist.

    So when the moon is full I travel into the night, rapping my long claws on the doors of my neighbours telling them to ‘come to me’, and then devouring their flesh and sending their souls to the afterlife.
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 22, 2012 at 04:35 AM.

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    McScottish's Avatar The Scribbling Scotsman
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Simply excellent! Thank you Rex, and +rep for you when I can.

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    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Don't read at night!

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Whole Lotta Rosie (Inspired by the song of the same name by AC/DC)*


    An unusual tip-off once came across my desk; I was working as a field reporter for a local newspaper and had taken a phone call from the public line that a large naked woman had been seen in the vicinity of Bakersville, seemingly she appeared on the edge of town near the forest edge that abutted the highway.

    Now normally I leave the ‘flashing’ stories to my colleague Mike who covers the human interest stories and what passes for crime hereabouts. But I couldn’t resist poking my nose into this one, after all Mike was on holiday camping somewhere with his brats and someone had to cover the story.

    Besides I had always had a thing for the ‘larger’ woman, I put it down to having an Italian Grandpa. So I had set out from the office giving the excuse that I needed to see the area myself and too try to find a witness or two to interview. In reality I wanted to see if I could spot this woman in the flesh.

    So after leaving the office I jumped in my car, making sure I had a camera and notepad handy and then took a look at myself in the rear-view mirror to make sure I didn’t look too bad. Satisfied I started up the car, put it into drive and set off on the ten minute drive to the other side of town. As I drove along the blocks to my target I wondered what the woman would look like, would she be the woman of my dreams. I sure hoped so.

    And before you even think it, the answer is yes I would and yes I am the stereotypical skinny guy that likes to date girls at least three times his size, in my experience women who are amply gifted give a man a hell of a lot better time than any wannabe model size zero stick insect. So I dreamed! I dreamed of the biggest and best woman that my depraved mind could conjure up.

    I had soon arrived at my destination and drew into the public car park that was on the edge of the forest, I slid the car into a spot then stopped the car, I got out locked the door and patted my pockets to make sure I still had the camera and pad and pen. Satisfied, I looked around to see if anybody else was lurking around the forest edge, apart from a couple of dog walkers and the occasional jogger everything was quiet.

    Thinking perhaps that the whole thing was a waste of time, or a fool’s errand I began to think about turning around, but then thought that maybe I should just explore the area a little first. So I walked away from the car park and towards one of the many footpaths that led into the forest. From the corner of my left eye I saw a blurred shape, I focussed my sight and then walked towards the shape, getting closer I could see that it was a man crouching and lurking in the bushes, he was aged around his mid twenties, with dark hair and round steel glasses on the edge of his nose; he didn’t look like your average pervert or stalker, he seemed more like a harmless geek. I decided to ask him a few questions.

    ‘Hi there, my name is John Xavier, I work for the Bakersville Bugle, may I ask you if you have seen anything unusual around here?’

    The man shuffled stiffly like a guy who had stayed in one position for too long, he poked the centre of his glasses back up to the top of his nose and then focussed on me myopically. ‘Good, I wondered when you would get here, I was the person who called you, have you brought your camera?’

    I suddenly thought that maybe I had wasted my time after all, maybe the geek was just after me wasting my time lurking around the car park with him, it’s hard to tell these days. ‘Yes I have brought my camera; I hope that this isn’t a waste of my time Mr…?’ I left the question hanging.

    The man looked irritated, ‘No this will not be a waste of your time Mr Xavier, and its not Mr, it’s Professor, Professor John Harold Deakin, and I am a specialist in the world of the paranormal.’

    My eyebrows rose in consternation, so the guy was an oddball after all, I knew I should have stayed in the office and watched the big behind of my secretary, it was the only reason I hired her, she couldn’t type for toffee.

    Professor Deakin saw the expression on my face, or at least my eyebrows, ‘I can assure you that this will be a scoop, a Pulitzer prize winning story, this will make your name, for you are about to photograph the one and only Whole Lotta Rosie!’

    Now I knew the guy had lost it. Big time.

    For Whole Lotta Rosie is one of those urban myths, the story goes that this nymph/succubus/soul-eater takes many forms, one of which being a voluptuous woman and once in her womanly form she finds a guy and then she gets it on with the man and drains him of his life force. Now to me that didn’t sound like such a bad bargain, I mean what a way to go, right!? But even so, I knew that the story was just a steaming pile of horse dung.

    And as for the professor, well he probably got his PhD from a website somewhere.
    The professor didn’t say another word to me; he just put his finger to his lips and then pointed with his free hand into the forest.

    And there she was, the most beautiful big woman I had ever seen or will ever see in my life, I can’t describe her because words would simply not do her justice. Oh and she was naked too.

    My heart was in my mouth and I could feel and hear the blood pulsing through my veins, I wanted to walk towards her but my legs felt like they were encased in cement. She looked at me and then shook her head, and then she shifted her gaze and smiled at the professor.

    Boy, I have never felt so rejected.

    The professor rose up from his crouched position and Rosie walked, more floated really towards him, they met in a small clearing and as I watched unable to move they made love, Rosie being the boss if you know what I mean.

    Jealous! That would not even half-way approach how I envious I felt.

    Then the screaming began, her gorgeous features and wonderful large body morphed into the most hideously ugly form I have ever seen, the only way I can describe it is as a church gargoyle from the neck up and a wizened old crone from the neck below.

    Then the professor’s body shook and a blue ethereal light came out of his body and spun in the air for a fraction of a second before entering the body of Rosie. The professor’s body dissolved in a flash.

    All the time I had stood watching my camera clutched in my right hand, unable even to take a snap of the whole bizarre, scary and incredible experience. I felt my hand burn and the camera burst into flames, I dropped it on the forest floor, and blew against my singed fingers.

    Finally Rosie turned back again into the most wonderful of forms, a big beautiful woman and came closer to me. I could not move, I still did not want to move and she spoke a few simple words to me ‘your time is not yet, be patient for I will return for you’ and then she vanished.

    But I will wait, like I said before ‘what a way to go, right!?’


    *Not really on theme with the song, but I wanted to keep things dark.
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 22, 2012 at 09:25 AM.

  11. #11
    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    You are a very disturbed person, has anyone ever mentioned this before? A very entertaining little collection here, I'll have to go raid my old record collection for some inspiration. Now does Grunge count as Metal or not?

    [edit] For you young'uns, records were those shiny black plastic discs that were before even CD's! sick or what?

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Quote Originally Posted by ybbon66 View Post
    You are a very disturbed person, has anyone ever mentioned this before? A very entertaining little collection here, I'll have to go raid my old record collection for some inspiration. Now does Grunge count as Metal or not?

    [edit] For you young'uns, records were those shiny black plastic discs that were before even CD's! sick or what?
    Not disturbed, merely inspired! I have the most incredible imagination (I think), besides most horror themes have been written before

    I couldn't really stick to the tone of the song, so I thought I would twist it a little

    Grunge does count, so Nirvana, Soundgarden, smashing pumpkins.

    Pretty polly or black hole sun could be interesting
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 22, 2012 at 09:16 AM.

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    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    I was thinking "smells like teen spirit", or "come as you are". I saw Smashing Pumpkins live once, they were terrible, right pretentious the lead singer was, got all upset and stormed off because the applause wasn't loud enough.

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    Diocle's Avatar Comes Limitis
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Well, Rex, I didn't understand how much your magnificent mind was disturbed!!!! I like this!

    Now I'm so happy for these readings that I want to dedicate to you, to me and to your stories few songs, as a form of (really great) Thank you!

    1- The first story is very similar to a particular moment of my own Story! (Can you read the Future?...I cannot tell more but...Compliments!) So for the first I found 'I fought the law' by The Clash, it's almost perfect!

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    2- for the second horror and disturbed story,... : Billy Idol - Dancing With Myself


    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    3- Well, for Mr. Xavier, only this could be suited: 'Should I saty or should I go!' by The Clash :

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    Thanks RA, give us more!......+rep!

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories

    Quote Originally Posted by ybbon66 View Post
    I was thinking "smells like teen spirit", or "come as you are". I saw Smashing Pumpkins live once, they were terrible, right pretentious the lead singer was, got all upset and stormed off because the applause wasn't loud enough.
    I could well believe that, I liked Nirvana and soundgarden myself I was never into the whole SP scene.

    Quote Originally Posted by Diocle View Post
    Well, Rex, I didn't understand how much your magnificent mind was disturbed!!!! I like this!

    Now I'm so happy for these readings that I want to dedicate to you, to me and to your stories few songs, as a form of (really great) Thank you! Thanks RA, give us more!......+rep!
    I shall take that as a complement I was listening to more tracks earlier this evening, so I'm thinking of a few plot lines already - metal/rock/punk are great for giving you a creative burst of thought
    Last edited by Rex Anglorvm; November 22, 2012 at 03:38 PM.

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    Diocle's Avatar Comes Limitis
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22/11

    It's a great compliment dear friend , please believe me! I like your work!

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22/11

    Quote Originally Posted by Diocle View Post
    It's a great compliment dear friend , please believe me! I like your work!
    Thank you

  18. #18

    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22/11

    What can I say except that your latest stories are most excellent! You do possess a vivid imagination, indeed. The first-person narrative you are employing throughout your stories is remarkable.

    Quote Originally Posted by Rex Anglorvm View Post
    Ah a request now that is interesting, I suppose I could pick a track.....but which one
    Anything by Cannibal Corpse or GG Allin would do for now, thanks. Oh wait, I don't want to put you in trouble here because of my special requests. Joking aside, I've just remembered Metallica's Enter Sandman. Do you think you could transform its message into another one of your amazing tales of the weird?

    Quote Originally Posted by Rex Anglorvm View Post
    black hole sun could be interesting
    One of the best music clips I've ever seen, albeit creepy.

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22/11

    Quote Originally Posted by Maximinus Thrax View Post
    What can I say except that your latest stories are most excellent! You do possess a vivid imagination, indeed. The first-person narrative you are employing throughout your stories is remarkable.

    Anything by Cannibal Corpse or GG Allin would do for now, thanks. Oh wait, I don't want to put you in trouble here because of my special requests. Joking aside, I've just remembered Metallica's Enter Sandman. Do you think you could transform its message into another one of your amazing tales of the weird?

    One of the best music clips I've ever seen, albeit creepy.

    Thank you very much MT - I always appreciate your feedback. Hm Ok, i will work on one of your requests. You will have to wait and see which one though

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    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: Metal tales - Short Stories updated 22/11

    Enter Sandman (Inspired by the song of the same name by Metallica)

    Sweet dreams…

    Not likely, not when I’m around, I’m sure you have heard of my brother the loveable Sandman, the cute little guy that comes in the night to sprinkle magic dust in your eyes and send you away into a world of delightful fluffy sleep.

    Bah! He’s a wimp!

    As for me, well I’m a sandman too, of a type that is…I will enter your head and give you dreams too, I will give you torment, pain and suffering and I will enjoy your evident distress. For I am a real sandman not like my ridiculous fairy tale inducing brother.

    I see people at their prayers; they kneel down mumbling their absurd rites in the hope of keeping me away, huh! Prayers before bedtime, a fine and noble tradition; the time when believers cling to the hope of a pleasant night’s sleep and some undisturbed rest.

    Fools

    They sleep with one eye open, hoping to keep awake long enough to fall into a gentle sleep that keeps me away, they grip their pillow tightly thinking that a hold on the daylight material world will keep them safe from harm, but then when the light goes out, I enter with the night, and the hoped for dreams of fluffy white sheep and jumping pink bunnies are lost to them.

    Instead I bring them dream of war, dreams of lies and dreams of dragon fire. I love to bring them dreams of things that bite, wolves with snapping blood stained jaws, sharks with gapping terrifying maws, snakes with needle sharp venom carrying incisors and dreams of lions clawing, mauling and biting through their entrails.

    Oh, I do so love my job.

    Favourites, favourite dreams that is, of those I have a few, one particular joy I have is my multiple nightmare special, it’s a sort of buy one get one free deal, only its one deal you would never opt to purchase. I will send you to sleep lulling you with a pleasant dream of a handsome man or beautiful woman, depending on your inclination, but then I change them into something unworldly, well not of your world that is my mortal friends.

    Perhaps I will change your dream partner into a rotting stinking maggot infested corpse just as you dream of coming into a passionate kiss or a locked embrace with them, or perhaps I will change them into a rampaging silverback gorilla that will rip your limbs from your body and beat you over your own head with them until you are nothing but an unrecognisable lump of bloodied flesh.

    And then you will wake, and you will breathe a sigh of relief, you will mop your fevered brow, perhaps put on the nightlight next to you and look around the room checking that you really are alone; maybe you will even get up and have a midnight snack anything to calm your seared nerves.

    But then you return to your bed, safe and sound from my playful ways…until your eyes grow heavy and you fall asleep once more, and then I return, only this time you are in a pit surrounded by dozens of angry hissing biting snakes, or at the top of a tall building about to be pushed off, as you are pushed you can feel yourself dropping through time and space until you wake with a bang on your bed rather than a hard thwack onto the pavement in your dreams.

    So you wake again, once more you feel hot, scared, your heart is beating so hard you can feel it thumping painfully in your chest. Once more the light goes on in your bedroom as you hope to keep the demons of the night at bay.

    No chance

    Once more inevitably you fall asleep again. I return wondering what I should inflict upon you this time, so I pick at your sub-conscious the memories that you bury so deep inside yourself because you are afraid of what would happen if you or the world acknowledged them.

    Sifting through your memories I discard the ones that I deem a touch dull, after all I want something truly epic to finish your night upon. You are a liar, a cheat, you have a deep seated fear of spiders, you lack confidence, your rubbish at sports, and you fear you are too ugly to have a girlfriend, you fear unemployment, and you’re a coward, a drunk, a bully….

    Oh the list that you people have is endless, you humans are so pathetic, and you have so many faults, so many frailties.

    Just when I fear that I will never find anything original then I stumble across it, your secret fear, buried so deep that I almost missed it, and I am omnipotent!

    So I take you through the final step of the dream, the secret torment that you fear above all things, as you sleep, seemingly finally immune from my artful tinkering, I play my final card.

    You are with you friends at a concert, a real hard heavy metal gig, mosh pit slamming, spittle flying, and beer soaking testosterone fuelled epic event. You look great you look like every metal head around you, you belong, you fit in, you are accepted…

    And then your leather jacket flies upon revealing the T-Shirt underneath and its loud and proud florescent pink logo legend of ‘Lady Gaga rules!’

    The crowd spots you, the entire mosh pit slams into you, knocking you around, pointing, laughing, ridiculing you, your secret is revealed! You are a lady gaga fan. Ah, your shame, your humiliation, my joy and my pleasure.

    You wake screaming and my job is done, now it’s someone else’s turn, is it yours dear reader? I do hope so….

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