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Turning Horror on Its Head

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Piece 1: Ignorance is a gift to the unaware but a curse to the enlightened. By Zane Iffland

Piece 2: 
"Fresh air is for dead people" by Muna Mohammed

Piece 3: "Dark Devotion by Henry Hun

Piece 4: "The Woman" by Siam Lian

Piece 5: "Upside Down and Topsy Turvy" by Nhi Lu



 
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Desert Highway

By Zane Iffland

Ignorance is a gift to the unaware but a curse to the enlightened.

​

  Jonathan Baker was a simple man Working as a lumber yard worker in Defiance,OH,. At the end of the day though he had no energy to be there for his wife. Though today he woke up and couldn't feel his wives comforting warmth, and woke up to an empty bed.

As He was getting dressed he could smell the foul scent of gas coming from the kitchen. He ran down stairs and turned the oven off. Jonathan had no time to question it because he was running late. On the drive there Jonathan noticed a lack of traffic, enjoying the wind blowing through his hair while driving. An hour had gone past and Jonathan hadn’t seen a single soul, was this some sort of socialist plot Jon thought “course not Jon there’s probably some sorta get together going on” said Jon attempting to rationalize his current predicament. Jon decided to break the silence with the radio, “ I don’t want to set-” Jon switched the channel “ The world on fire-” Jon switched the channel “ I dont wa-”  Jon turned radio off after running through each channel embracing the abysmal silence that surrounded him, ignoring the fact that every station was broadcasting the same song he kept driving . He took the exit that left to work, the thought of doing his job put his mind at ease. When Jon finally arrived at the mill he was shocked to see that no one was here, this didn't stop him though, he did continue on like nothing had happened today, and when he went to saw a log in half it began to scream.

Security Guard

"Fresh air is for dead people" by Muna Mohammed
“It may sound weird, but I’m afraid of leaving the window open at night,” said Natalie. I comforted Natalie by telling her that we had campus police at every building in the dorm, and
that no one could enter the dorm without a scanner. In response, she said, “That doesn’t really
matter. We live on the first floor; anyone can crawl through the window”. To this, Emma
responded by saying “We should just go to sleep. We have our finals tomorrow and I can’t miss
sleep. I promise it will be fine; don’t overthink it. If y’all want to feel safer, there is a poster right
over there, and it has the campus police’s number on it.”
With that, the girls concluded their conversation and went to sleep. The next morning,
they heard on television that two girls were murdered on the first floor of the north dorms and
that people should be careful. At lunch on the same day, Emma spoke to her friend that went
to the University of Washington who told her that students at her school were also murdered in
the dorms, and that the murderer entered through an open window. She continued by saying
that the murderer knew the names of the students he killed, even though the people the
victims were friends with said they didn’t recognize or hear of the murderer before. In the
night, the girls stayed up late discussing the murders and how unsafe campus is. At that
moment, they heard screams from the next door. Given the circumstances, the girls armed
themselves and rushed over next door. They saw that campus security was already at the door
and trying to open it up. They heard the girls scream even louder due to the presence of the
campus police. This was strange, they thought, but they brushed it aside.
By the weird gut feeling, the girls made sure not to be spotted by anyone including the
officer and the screaming girls. A few seconds later, they heard a window open from the girl’s
dorm. The screams got even louder. Then, we heard a gunshot. Emma whispered in my ear that
the campus police shot the intruder. But campus police don’t have guns, nor are they allowed
to be armed on duty. A few seconds after the gunshots, a horror silence filled the room. The
screaming girls no longer could be heard, but what we could hear was a male voice saying,
“fresh air is for dead people”. The campus police came out of the girl's dorm with a smirk on his
face. I knew then how the murderer knew the names of his victims
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Dark Devotion" by Henry Hun

She always stumbles into her dorm at 11pm, every Saturday. Her slim fitted black
love affair velvet dress, shabby black pumps, basic but unique make-up, and her heavenly
scented perfume. She always has her same old signature look, but looks perfect no matter
what. The sounds of her struggling to lock the door and to set down her keys on the kitchen
counter filled the room, audibly bouncing off the walls.
“Bethhh! I’m home from the party! The guy you like even gave me his hoodie!” Rye called
out to the darkness that claimed the kitchen, bedrooms, everything.
“ You don’t even need my help getting with him, Azrael’s that easy. ” She snickered as the
humming of the fridge ended, creating a deadly silence that made your ears ring. I could
sense her impatience, she calls out again.
“. . .Beth? You home. . .?”
If she was searching for no response, it’s exactly the answer she received.
The scrapes of her heels shuffled uncomfortably towards the kitchen's lightswitch, causing a
disgusting yellow illumination to crawl its way into Rye’s bedroom. The breeze flowing
through is enough to make us shiver as the moon creeps past the curtains of her room. The

silence is soon broken by the sounds of her heels clicking again toward her bedroom. Rye’s
small frame collided against her bed, groaning as her head rested on her pillows. Rye’s
bedroom lingers with the scent of Lavender and the lights above her bed shone a gentle
white. Her room is cute due to the stuffed cats tucked into bed and her paintings of scenery
hung upon the wall. Everything was tidy and clean till her pumps scattered across her floor.
She whined as she rose slowly from her bed, sore feet dragged along the wooden floor along
with kicking those heels towards the corner. She then sits at her study desk looking into a
mirror hung above her notebooks and bright pens. She stares at herself before she takes off
her makeup , Holding her breath like she isn’t prepared to see the person underneath. She
doesn’t need the makeup but she will still wear her same look and she’ll wipe it all away
everytime. . . Modern Auburn with two white streaks complimenting her wispy bangs, it’s
silky and long. Once her facade is off, she’ll brush through her hair. She always looks perfect
no matter whatever she’s doing. She started to play with the strings on the hood, scrolling
through her text messages on her phone. She looks nice in my hoodie.
Midnight tolls and She’ll start to get anxious, not only because her roommate isn’t home yet
but she’s getting that sense. You know, we all have that primal sense. The feeling of
someone watching you, it’s been a few weeks and Rye’s sense works very well. But not well
enough to find me. I’ve learned that my sweetheart is a liar, She’s not even a girl at all.

He moves to sit on the bed as he calls Beth, anxiety rushing causing him to bounce his leg.
He curses under his breath as it goes straight to voicemail, fingers twitching and I can see the
sweat drip down his pure untainted skin.
“Hey Beth. . . It’s Henry. Call me back please. Let me know when you are coming home
from Azrael’s. I’m getting the feeling like something is watching me again. . .” He spoke
shaken as he darted his eyes around his room, Especially towards the closet. Gripping onto
his phone, he creeps towards the closet and yanks it open, sighing in relief as he strolls out of
his room to check the rest of the dorm.
He gets paranoid so easily, making him check that closet every night around this hour. I’m
glad He hasn’t checked the vent yet.

Scary Robot

 

 

 

 

 

"The Woman" by Siam Lian
The woman comes and goes. Her tired eyes gazed into my hollow soul. Her glasses rested on her lower bridge. She smiled small and soft, and yet so whole. So much like the girl I fell for, so long ago. Her name was Debra, like hers. Where she is now, I can’t remember. I remember her red hair. I remember the day we met, her eyes smiled as we talked. I remember one starry night, we sat outside, and I remember she looked at me. I remember.
“I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Debra smiled softly.
“I think...I think I do too.” I replied
“Let’s grow old.” She promised.
“I’ll get a glass, its about time.” Debra announced.
“Have I told you, you remind me of my wife.” I asked, deep in thought. She smiled and walked off. What happened to my wife? I remember having a son. That’s right, my son, its been a while since we’ve talked. His name was George, named after my father. He fell for this girl, is he married now? He was the oldest of them. Sophie too, a girl named Sophie. She was off to be married as well. I remember.
“Gary’s off to college now,” Debra exclaimed.
Who was Gary? Gary, oh I remember. My son. The youngest of them. I remember.
“You’ll be alright Gary, be strong.” I stifled a cry. “We love you.”
“Thanks dad, thanks mom. I’ll be fine, just you watch, and we’ll all go and have so much fun” He promised. He was strong, and he was positive, even while he was sick, I think, I don’t know, zh` I can’t remember anything else from that.
“That sound perfect honey.” Debra cried.
“Take your medicine now dear.” Debra commanded.
A tall glass sat beside me. I was so lost in thought. I took the pill besides it and grabbed the
water. The woman sat across from me, reading a book. “Mind Thief.”
“I see you looking at my book, I’ve loved this book since I was in high school, remember.” She
smiled. "Ah.” I let out. “Have I told you, you remind me of my wife?” She let out another smile, but remained silent. We sat in without talking, until she stood.

“I have to pick something up, I’ll be back.” Alone, I sat. Such an empty feeling, wishing to be accompanied. I remember this girl, Debra. A girl from my youth. I loved her. Her red hair parted, her eyes glared deep into my soul, as if she saw through me. I remember three kids, a boy, George, the oldest and the kindest. A girl, Sophie, the one in the middle, headstrong and cunning. Gary, the youngest. He was strong, and he made sure to take care of everyone.
Three knocks, I was awoken by three knocks on the door. I weakly stood up and walked carefully towards the door.
“Grandpa!” The children screamed. “We missed you.” Who are these people, they’re so lovely.
“Hey dad, it’s me George.” Said the man, is he my son? “They wanted to see you.”
“Oh, well, come on in.” They scurried inside, the woman stood behind. “George, how are the
others.”
“Sophie’s great, dad, and I’m, of course, doing great.” He laughed.
“How’s Gary, finally off to college, right? He was such a great brother to you guys. Always
getting you two out of trouble when you all were younger.”
“Oh uh, dad.” His voiced softened. His pause allowed me to notice everyone’s expression.
“Yeah, um. Yeah, Gary, my oldest son, is off to college now.”

Face Scuplture

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Upside Down and Topsy Turvy" by Nhi Lu
 

On a busy corner a bookstore stood, obtruding the bustling foreground. There
was no banner outside that showed a name, few ever entered through the door.
Perhaps it had been years since it opened or maybe a few days. No one was sure on
the exact details that make up the taciturn bookstore. Standing outside, staring into the
dimmed windows I spotted a flower vase perched on the window sill, the water had
dried from the vase that held a single rose, petals fell slowly, a strange backdrop for the
busy foot traffic that greeted this street every afternoon.
One foot in front of the other I was led to the gray door that led into the
bookstore, a shiny golden handle opened the door when I pushed on it. “Welcome!” said
a smiling woman, dressed in a white dress decorated with florals, she matched the
bookcases holding seemingly dustless books. The rose on the windowsill now looked
like a budding flower.
“Hi,” I replied to the woman, who’s name tag indicated her name was Beatrice,
“do you have a copy of Alice in Wonderland?” She moved to a case made of glass
holding a small book with the title I asked.
“Our last one, how lucky.” She scanned the barcode and handed the book to me
without accepting money. “On the house, Alice.”
“How did you know my-” I was quickly ushered out of the store before I could
finish my sentence and when I turned back around the store that was once there
disappeared without a trace.

Upside Down
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