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 Category:  Horror and Thriller Non-Fiction
  Posted: August 8, 2017      Views: 127
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Barb works at the local food bank volunteering her time at the country market. Barb has lived just about every profession there is to do. She has had a wild ride in her lifetime and uses poetry to tell everything. She is a cancer survivor. She hates - more...

She is an accomplished poet and is currently at the #7 spot on this years rankings.

She is also an active reviewer and is holding the #10 spot on the top ranked reviewer list.

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Chapter 86 of the book Family7
contest entry
"The Fanged Menace" by Barb Hensongispsaca

It was a dark October night, with a chill in the air that brought this eight year old closer to the wood stove. I was just finishing my homework when I sensed a change in the whole feeling of the old house I called home.

A family hand-me-down, the house was over a hundred years old. The kitchen was heated with a black wood stove which was also where the meals were cooked. The rest of the house was heated by coal that my mother kept stoked as was needed depending on the drop in temperature. This in turn would heat the water that ran through the registers. The banging and clanging as the pipes heated or cooled was fairly common.

As I sat doing my homework, I noticed other sounds that seemed to permeate the whole being of the walls. I looked up at the big flowered wallpaper in front of me and it seemed the flowers were moving - forming - stretching. Suddenly a lump appeared that seemed to lengthen more and more until it was joined by features. First eye sockets, a forehead, ears, and finally, just as the mouth began to open, the most hideous sight broke free of the wallpaper.

The form became a wolf that walked on two legs like a man. It was covered in dense black fur, sleek but scraggly. I could see the blood-red eyes staring at me, the sharp claws as they started to reach for me, and the fangs dripping saliva.

I screamed for my Mom as I dodged the claws that swiped at me. I could sense it behind me as I started to run around the arches that separated the kitchen from the living room. It seemed I could dodge the corners better than it could so I managed to keep ahead of it. Then it did the unpredictable ... it came through the wall. No, it did not break it down, it could walk through the wall like a ghost.

My fear increased as my Mom entered from the basement with the rifle she always kept handy. The beast changed direction and ran straight for my Mom. As its form blocked my view from seeing what was happening, I screamed as loud as I could.

I woke in the dark with a form leaning over me and it was talking.

"Honey, wake up, you are having a bad dream!"

PAINT ME A DREAM contest entry

The book continues with Couldn't Be Prouder. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.

Author Notes
SCHATZLING thank you for permission to use your picture.

I had this dream when I was eight years old but it was so vivid that I still remember it to this day.
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by SCHATZLING at

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