Day 216 – Pale Blue – Short Story

He drives the blade deep into the monsters chest and it screams in agony, and then is still, silent, lifeless.

“I told you, I told you one day, if you ever came back here I would send you to hell,” he hisses as he withdraws the blade and collapse beside it, he winces in pain, looking down at his side, where a large gash, from the monsters claws had ripped into him. “Fucking piece of shit,” he grimaces, as he presses against the wound, his hand, instantly soaked in blood.

“JOEL!” a voice yells from beyond, from the darkness, he wearily looks up, towards the oncoming footsteps, meeting her gaze, with his.

“SANDY! Thank god, I though it killed you.”

“No, we’re safe, all of us, we managed to lose it in the tunnel, my god are you okay?”

“I’ll live, it got me good though, another inch and maybe I’d be done for,” he says smiling nervously.

“Oh fuck Joel, it’s deep, you’re loosing a lot of blood, we have to get you out……of……here….” Her words trail off, and her eyes grow wide with fear.

“Sandy, what’s wrong?”

“T-T-T-The…” She manages to get out, as she points to his side, Joel, quickly looks down, and notices the wound slowly healing, before his eyes, his mouth, drops open, and begins to quiver.

“W-What, THE FUCK!” He yells, looking up at her.

“On full moons delight, the beast passes on it’s curse with it’s bite,” the beast growls as it stands before them, fully healed.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!” Joel yells, scrambling to his feet, forcing Sandy behind him.

“I, have done nothing, but protected myself from you, had you allowed me to kill you like I wished, like I wanted, you would’ve never turned, but because you live, you now change, you now become, something more.”


It laughs, “A pale version, the linage thins as it grows, but we will have time for all this later, for now, we must feast, and then leave this place, before the hunters come.”

“What? FEAST!”

It looks at Sandy, “Starting with her,” it says.

“NO! NO!” Joel yells, as he feels something burning behind his eyes, then pain, nothing but unending pain, and then darkness, coated with a splash of something red, something warm, something, not his.



Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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