Once Upon a Black Kraken

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  This blog is moving to hopefully greener pastures, continue following it on Substack: https://osnarchavez.substack.com/ Part 9 | Compilation I was back at my grandmother’s house. Well, the ruins of it after some hurricane hit it on my last dream. I was dreaming again. I knew she was my grandmother, but I also recognized her as the evil witch that, when I was a kid, threw me from a slide and broke my shinbone. Since then, everything evil or paranormal makes my badly heath limb hurt.

  This blog is moving to greener pastures, futurely on substack . Part 8 | Finale Without a second to spare after hearing the pain shriek, the just taken out of trance Margaret, my undead ectoplasmic friend Luke and I peeked outside the shed to see what was going on. A horde of around two dozen elderly people with serious levels of dementia were approaching, slowly and zombie-like, to Mrs. Rowen’s office. Their eyes were blank. Their movements seemed to lack any intention. All our attempts to get them out of their way towards Morlden Village’s manager office were useless.

  Part 7 | Part 9 “What the fuck happened?” Was all I could ask at the image of the damaged, ruined and almost post-apocalyptic Morlden Village that stood in front of Margaret, Luke and me. No more perfect, cozy and dementia-safe little town. The cognitive held patients were walking and continuing their lives as if their cage didn’t have turned into an actual hell.

  Part 6 | Part 8 That deep, beast-like roar gave me chills that made all my body hairs stand up as a military squad. Not Margaret, Luke, me or Paula’s inert body knew what the fuck caused it. The elders with cognitive detriment who just got their souls back acted as if they didn’t even notice anything wrong, which honestly is how they react to anything that happens in their haunted dementia village.

Part 5 | Part 7 The three other viewers in the movie theater started screaming in absolute fear during a conversation scene in the same movie that is played every day in Morlden Village’s Movie Theater. They all shrieked at the same time, when nothing really terrifying happened on the screen. There wasn’t even any cue in the film that it was fear or something-happens-now time. It was like everyone who ever gotten to see this black and white couple drama have a very instinctive and precise instruction on where to yell.

  Part 4 | Part 6 Next morning started with a somber ritual: a burial. It was Mr. Bohr’s, one of my fellow residents that lived with me on Building E. He died during the night from natural causes. I had opposing feelings during the ceremony. The words said by a religious resident were mostly nonsensical, but the parts that were coherent effectively made me miss the old guy who played cards with the caregivers every day and screamed constantly. Yet, I couldn’t shake out of my head the fact that William didn’t receive a service like this. Even worse, Mrs. Rowen pretended as if she didn’t know who I was talking about.

 Part 3 | Part 5 In the Morlden Village there is not a single good night to rest. For the first time in weeks, I was not interrupted by vampires, nightmares or creepy sucking old men as I wandered through Morpheus realm. That would’ve been too good to be true. Crash.

  Part 2 | Part 4 I hate dreaming about my unknown grandmother and her creepy Victorian house, which I only recognized because Morpheus’ realm works in mysterious ways. Also, the injury a witch did to me as an infant, apparently cursed me with knowledge of things that I shouldn’t be aware of.

  Part 1 | Part 3 “What in the ass you mean you possessed me? To get revenge on that old woman?!” I, understandably angry, questioned my ghostly “friend” Luke.

  Check the complete story HERE!

  "My Probation Consists of Guarding an Abandoned Asylum" | Part 2 “I didn’t kill her.” That’s how I opened my defense with the officers charging me for having murdered the bitch that got me here.

Part 19 | An hour before twilight, Russel arrived on its own luxurious (and until now unknown) yacht to the island. It required a whole crew to sail it and seemed brand new.

  Part 18 | Finale I came out with a plan. You really can’t map out much ahead when you are dealing with the supernatural. But I had an outline of how to approach Dr. Weiss’ situation. It all started in an impulsive action I should’ve thought better.

  Part 17 | Part 19 I couldn’t sleep yesterday. That fucking creature that escaped the cliff’s cave and spent last night howling was coming back. I felt it on my broken shinbone. That tingling that irradiated my left leg pushed me into preparing.

  Part 16 | Part 18 Without any more pending tasks, I strolled around the island. I needed at least one night out of that haunted building. Grabbed a rope from the destroyed shed.

  Part 15 | Part 17 After almost a full term (9 months) of guarding the Bachman Asylum, I’ve learned to be in this place. You never investigate anything bizarre or abnormal that happens if it is not an issue. Yet, stupidly and by pure instinct force, I went up the stairway to the second story. To the dorms. The sobbing had been bothering me just for a couple of hours.

  "I’m gonna recommend the helmet," I announce to Susan. "Gonna get the report, I'll leave you watching the video.” I hold back my urge to inform her that I feel the same way as that last night of university when she decided to continue as an accountant for an appliance company, and I ended up in this clinic specialized in making helmets to correct the deformed heads of babies like hers. It breaks my heart that he is not mine.

  — Voy a recomendarle el casco—, anuncio a Susana.— Voy por el reporte, les dejo el video. Contengo la necesidad de informarle que siento lo mismo que aquella última noche de universidad donde ella decidió seguir como contadora para una empresa de electrodomésticos, y yo terminé en esta clínica especializada en hacer cascos para corregir las cabezas deformes de bebés como el suyo. Me destroza el corazón que no sea mío.

Part 14 | Part 16 After having to let go Dr. Weiss, I spent a couple of nights looking for him, expecting to find him debilitated or something.