Heart's a Mess (Short Story - Horror)
Songlines 3 - Short stories inspired from songs.
Previous stories in the series
HEART'S A MESS
Pick apart
The pieces of your heart
And let me peer inside
Let me in
Where only your thoughts have been
Let me occupy your mind
As you do mine.
Heart's a Mess – Gotye
The shadow spread out from the droplet of fear that had burst upon the floor. Angled and swirling out towards the edges of the room. Towards the four walls that circled Rosie, like wagons at dawn, pegging her into a cage that had become her life.
The foreboding presence slithered its way up the walls, slowly enveloping the room in darkness.
Rosie lay unmoved, on a rusty metal framed bed, placed in the room's centre. The shadow had spread out from her core, like black wings that rose high peering down on the lifeless body below. Watching Rosie as she lay trapped within the pieces of her broken, mangled heart.
“You look so confused and alone.” The voice resonated through the room's stale air. A presence brushed past the side of Rosie's face, causing her eyes to flutter. They closed once more, her breathing deep and rhythmic. “You don't have to be alone. Just let me in. Let me in.”
The shadow turned to vines stretching up the walls in long weeping strands. Black leaves fell in circular patterns until they rested upon Rosie's chest. Her beating heart receiving their decaying matter as an offering, calling out to the scattered pieces that lay within. Rosie sighed.
Come in.
Rosie heard a noise like a revving engine, a beast of magnitude she could barely imagine. It echoed at her from every direction, it's boom crashing down on her tiny frame. She lay on the barren earth, a loosely fitting hospital gown all that covered her.
Where am I?
A sound like ten thousand squawking birds hung in the air, just out of reach. Rosie looked but all she saw was a ring of trees. A faint light in the distance left the tree tops silhouetted. Elsewhere darkness reigned.
What is that noise?
She stood, needing several attempts to make her body lift itself. A fluid like energy coursed through her, turning her muscles to jelly. The noise continued to distract, Rosie's attention spinning her around. The trees stood like sentinels guarding all exit points. Only darkness could be seen below their leaves, deep into the forests beyond.
Where do I go now?
The echoing noise ceased.
“You don't have to be alone.” Rosie heard the voice clearly. There was no engine like chaos now. No squawking mayhem. A deep voice came through, creeping into Rosie's cage.
“Who are you?” Rosie asked.
“You don't have to be alone,” the voice repeated. “Just let me in. Let me in.”
Rosie looked at the sky, at the circle of faint light left between the trees. The stars barely visible yet vibrating in tune with the voice. The words boomed out, and the stars danced like marionettes. She watched as a shadow drifted across, and the dancing puppets were no more.
Rosie lay motionless on the old rickety bed. The mattress barely masking the faulty springs that lay beneath. She let out a sigh. The shadow stepped out from the corners of the room. A hand gently stroked her forehead. “Let me in,” the voice repeated. The same hand opened her eyes, one at a time. Rosie's eye lids where pulled apart, in search of life. “The stars say they have found you.”
Beneath her flickering eyelids shadows danced. A girl stood encircled by a guardian of trees. A heart lay broken, the pieces torn and held aloft. The blackness of the night ripped in two by the dripping blood that poured from her hands. Hands that held pieces of the girl's heart. Pieces of Rosie's heart.
Are you looking for me?
Rosie coughed. The bed squeaked and squealed in torment. The shadow hovered over, staring at her from above. Rosie's eyes shot open. She stared into the shadow's eyes. “Are you looking for me?”
“I have seen your broken heart,” the shadow said. “Let me fix it. Let me in.”
Rosie saw inside, the girl standing in the earthy centre. Ringed by the forest lords. She held the heart high, the red blood snaking its way down her arms, dripping from her elbows. The earth received her offerings - Rosie's offerings.
“My heart is not broken,” Rosie said. It is as it's meant to be.” She sat upright, throwing her arms around the shadowy presence above her. “It's my shadow that's broken.”
Rosie's mouth opened, wide enough to spew out the depths of hell. A being crawled out, her arms dripping with blood. In one hand she held a bloodied piece of heart. “Are you looking for me?” she asked the shadow. “You want in? You want to fix me?” The girl lashed out grasping the shadow from within its core. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the shadow's heart, dragging it back with her into the depths from which she came. Back into her core, into her centre. Ringed by the guardians of the night, where shadows belong.
Image sources 1
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you liked it then please like, comment, and follow
@naquoya
Short Fiction:
Bang Bang You're Dead
I Have No Name and I Must Scream
The Last Book Store
The Judge
The Man In The Mirror
The End of the World [Part 1] [Part 2]
The Locked Room
The Gods of Love and War [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Crossroads
This is a fantastic tale, @naquoya. You're writing skills are exceptional and come off as something I could have just as easily read within a retail bookstore. Excellent descriptions, unsettling narrative and killer conclusion.
Brilliant stuff, mate...
This is pure genius!
You've got serious skills.
Thank you, I appreciate the high praise. I felt really good about that story, felt like i got it right, or as close to right as we can get as writers. I am trying to up my game, improve my skill level and stories all the time. Maybe one day soon i will get that one published in a small story collection. Your words are an encouragement to me to keep heading in that direction.
This is gold!
You're a star!
This is beyond amazing.
Wonderful job.
This is next-level stuff.
This is beyond amazing.
You've got what it takes.
Chills, mate. Chills! This was such a haunting and gripping piece, it's like you held my heart hostage for the duration of this opus. My Glob, where do you come up with this stuff!? I read this three times, and every time painted a different picture. The foreboding themes of claustrophobia and paranoia remain ever prevalent all throughout. If I wasn't a fan of you before, this would definitively finalize my decision of pitching my flag in your camp.
And Rosie.. Sweet, innocent Rosie. The whimsy of her name set against the dark, cold shadowy world is not lost on me. I really like the contrast you set, and the way you turned the tables on the shadow felt so organic. Her stand against her would-be oppressor made the hairs of my body stand up. Dauntless, she stood victorious.
Finally, this was set against a song that I know. You are a force to be reckoned with, brother. I stand by my prediction of you being one of the greats!
I worked on this one longer than most. For a short piece it consumed more of my attention than normal. Put it aside, then return to it. More for the language of it. It does have a certain evocative language, which I wanted for the haunting aspect of it, and the atmosphere it creates.
The story itself came to me, mostly, in one setting. But it wasn't quite right. I tinkered with it, until I was happy with it. But it was the language that took most of my attention. Keeping it dark, haunting, yet evocative. And quick paced, given it's short length.
It's interesting with this piece, because I actually went through more self doubt with this one than normal. Usually I post a story and don't get too self conscious about it. But I had to tinker with this one a lot more than usual. But I think the theme and language called for something special. I hope I have delivered. Feedback tells me I have, which I appreciate.
Yeah, that some kind of irony, huh? I found short pieces more work than the usual, too. But, the time you spent on this one really shows. It was so masterfully crafted, and I just know that you were meticulous in the language and tone you used.
I guess you could say that the shadow was gripping you as you wrote this. That fear and self-doubt translated well, and worked to your advantage. Every experience lent itself to elevating this piece to its normal heights.
It's so interesting reading the story now and reflecting on it. Having written the piece I logically should know a thing or two about it, but like you say, the shadow had a grip as I wrote it. This is a very true statement, in a way. I can see how the story is a reflection of the battle between the heart and one's shadow. Between opening up and being authentic, or slithering back into the unconscious world ruled by one's shadow.
I had a vague notion of where I was going when I wrote the first word. That flowed as the story developed. Then polishing, and looking at exact word choices showed something beyond that. I do like the end product.
Seems so weird now as I was 50/50 on even posting this one. Perhaps it felt too personal, like if it wasn't well received it would have cut deep. Strange really. But that's my shadow battle at work there, isn't it?
Things always flow in circular patterns for me, and my writing :)
Yeah, I know how you feel. The shadow pulls strongly some times. But, I guess it's an indication that you're on to something good. I've learned that however your work is received, you putting it out there is cathartic all to itself. We're our harshest critics, so don't trust what your shadow says.
You constantly put out great work, and I don't know if you'll ever miss a mark from here on out. You've found your groove, and you're riding it like a champ! Just be yourself, and I know that your work will be received well :D
Excellent, as always!
Thank you, so glad you liked it.
Those lyrics though!!! Implied violence....and love
It's a haunting type of song. Melody and lyrics. And those lyrics, like you say. Look at the story they inspired.
Just looked it up....cool video too. Very creepy.
Absolutely fantastic use of language, it was just so evocative and atmospheric, every word was like a brush stroke painting an incredible picture.
Not sure if you picked up on it, but I loved this story :-)
That is high praise, and gratefully received. I toyed with this one for a while, trying to get the language right. To hear how it came across to you and the way you describe it like brush strokes (an effect I was aiming for) is music to my ears. Thank you.
Rosie is such a cheerful name for one who is battling darkness; none-the-less a rose conjures many different images, there is the blood red rose, the black rose and even pure white.
I was going to go with Rose initially, but it felt too obvious, so Rose became Rosie. It still conjures up images of a rose, like you mention. And the colours of a rose contrast with the shadow imagery running through the story.
Hot dang, you are so excellently descriptive in your writing, I loved the turnaround where Rosie was no victim.
And of course, full marks for the use of boom :0D
Thank you, I appreciate it. The turn around felt very organic as I wrote it, which added to the mystery and horror element of the story.
As for the boom, every aspiring author needs to embrace it. Very glad you noticed it :D
How could I fail to see ;0)
The organic ones are always the best when it just flows out and happens
I bookmarked the post for later read, since no time now and usually like your stories!
Thank you, I hope you like this one also.