Untitled Gore Project
Chapter One : The First Chapter
By Crandall - May 11, 2024
Forests have secrets, as people do. Every tree, every blade of grass, every hidden stream has an individual history, a path from then til now. These interwoven paths culminate in the diverse and magical “woods”. But what is unseen, trapped between the layers of entwined generational growth, can be powerful, necessary, and dangerous.
Deep in Standby Forest, at the end of a path only those who know can follow, was a large, round, fetid bog. The odd smells it emitted were detectable only to those close enough to see their reflection in the putrid, oily surface. At certain times of the year, the bog gurgled and squeaked. Bubbles rose and erupted, coating the moss covered peat dotted throughout with greasy, unnatural liquids. At these times, there was a perceptible shift of the viscous liquid; an ebb and flow that hypnotized and made the watcher quiver deep in their bowels. From the time when humans first discovered this bog - and learned the hard way its secrets - there had always been people who tended to it, in the exact way that it desires. This cultivation was as natural and vital as a flower tilting its leaves to catch the sun, or the myriad animals and insects that piece by piece devour a rotting corpse on the moist and shadowy forest floor.
On the edge of the forest, a village of only a few families congealed. Times changed around them as they did their ancient and integral work. Eventually the families dwindled and the rough buildings of the encampment were abandoned until there was only one family left. Being the last, they were trapped there, and being trapped, they endeavoured to make their home the biggest and best they could, as it was their cage.
So, at the end of a muddy and rutted dirt road a large white mansion loomed. It gleamed in the early summer afternoon sun, the forest framing it and by simple contrast, making it seem even more bright and inviting. “Morningstar Rehab” blazed in gold above the door. The facility was quiet and clean, empty of anyone but the staff who were busy in last minute preparation for the next busload of clients, who were arriving the next day.
A young woman, a servant named Fiona, cowered in a cupboard. She could not stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks, but did her best to stifle any sobbing. She sat curled in a ball, her grimy hands grasping her muddy and grazed ankles. The stench from her clothes and body choked her in the heat and closeness inside the cupboard. Her legs threatened to lock up after so many hours of hard work and shuttling heavy loads back and forth. She squeezed her eyes closed, but she could not stop seeing the oozing, sloshing, moulded, crusty...
Suddenly, the cupboard door popped open.
“There you are!” a middle aged woman, named Elsie - similarly filthy - violently whispered. “Get the fuck out of there!”
Elsie grabbed Fiona’s arm and started pulling her out. Fiona let out a little cry of distress and Elsie delivered a stinging slap to her cheek. Both women paused, silent, and listened. After a few moments, Elsie said, still whispering:
“Shut the fuck up! You know Madam is...”
“Conjuring,” Fiona said meekly.
“Preparing,” Elsie corrected. “And she’s depending on us to get things ready. Come out now!”
Elsie used both hands and grabbed at Fiona’s limbs. As fast as Elsie could pull, Fiona pulled back, squished herself deeper into the cupboard. Fiona started pinching Elsie’s hands and arms and Elsie released her and sat back, on the floor.
Elsie sighed and rubbed the places she’d been pinched. Dried layers of mud and blood and bog and sludge flaked off. “Fiona,” she said, her tone much calmer and kinder, “I know this is hard work. I’m doing it too! But the guests will be here in one day. We need to do one last thing...”
“No...”
“One last thing and then we can be clean again.”
Fiona wiped the last tears from her face and saw in Elsie’s eyes determination and sympathy. “But why do we have to do this? Why does it have to be so horrible?” Fiona asked.
Elsie gently took Fiona’s hands and sighed again. “Honey,” she said, “we are the last of the line. We are chosen by God to do this work.”
Fiona smirked and rolled her eyes at the mention of God. Elsie continued:
“Nevertheless, this is our vocation. No matter how hard or disgusting or how many screaming nightmares it creates in our imperfect human minds. This is Madam, this is me, and this is you. Understand?”
“I... I understand,” Fiona whispered, “I just... I don’t think I can do this. I... I won’t do this anymore.”
Elsie squeezed Fiona’s hands tightly and yanked her hard toward her. Fiona jerked out of the cupboard, caught off guard, and her face hit the floor with a bang.
Chapter Two: The Second Chapter
By Ripley Stonebrook - June 1, 2024
The bus slid through rutted country roads.
The driver’s head twisted watching for animals, hillbillies, or other horrors of the swamp. He hated these jobs. Driving corporate idiots out to whatever useless retreat they were going to this week. He especially dreaded these country trips. He had moved to the city for a reason and didn’t feel comfortable anymore without the lights of the city and traffic noises. His nametag read Hank pinned to the side of his greasy floppy ball cap.
The passengers weren’t enjoying the trip either.
Two ladies in orange overalls sat in the front. One was short, brunette, and angry. Clutching a clip bard to her chest she sat in the aisle seat glowering at Hank. Her overalls embroidered with her name, Luanne.
Her partner, Debra, was an older woman, tired, grey haired, sad. She slumped in her seat as far from Luanne as the uncomfortable bus seat would allow.
A sign flashed past the right side of the bus “Welcome to Morningstar”. Another smaller sign soon followed “No Trespassing”.
Debra sighed and turned to Luanne. “It’s time”
Luanne waved her away, “I know, I’m not blind!”
Luanne consulted her clipboard and tapped it loudly with her pen. “Ladies! Eyes up front!”, she shrieked.
The passengers were seated as far away from the Group leaders as possible.
Dressed in purple overalls, and clearly not happy about it, the four ladies in the back tuned to the front.
Luanne continued “Esther, Fran, you two will be in Cabin one, you’ll find your orientation papers on your bunks.” Esther, middle aged, tanned and obviously rich, had been paired with Fran, in her twenties, neck tattoos filled the space between her jumpsuit and her short hair. Her hands were covered in ink as well where they showed past the cuffs of her sleeves.
“Beth, Stella, you’ll be in cabin four.”
Beth was a large woman, her long hair an unnatural red, her lined face could have belonged to a worn 25 year of or a well aged 40. Stella was thin, her hair thin, and blond, framed an old sharp face, that looked angry at a world that constantly disappointed her with its incompetence.
Blasting over the top of the hill the bus dipped down into a valley with a blast of dust and a clang. The interior of the vehicle cloaked in darkness as the road tuned into a muddy mess leading underneath the overgrown canopy of the road.
“Fuck” screamed Hank, as he threw on the headlights.
“I can’t see shit!”
Hank slowed the bus as it rolled down into swampy hollow. The muddy track ahead was barely visible through the ropy plants and vines stretching across the road.
Luanne and Debra jumped to press their faces against the window, branches scraping along the bus seemed to terrify them.
“Debra...” Luanne whispered, terrified by what she saw.
“Shut the fuck up!” Luanne whispered back, “We’re here to do a job, and I get paid well to do it, I don’t care if the read disappears we’re getting to camp and cashing our checks!”
Hank managed to keep the metal tube pushing through the greenery emerging into a hazy steamy clearing. The slick metal crawling under a wooden arch with crudely carved letters “MORNINGSTAR”.
A circular area of mud and grime surrounded by squat tiny cabins made from the same trees surrounding the camp.
The wheels spin and whine as Hank turns the bus to face the road out. Returning from the place doesn’t seem to guaranteed.
“Everybody out!” he screams.
“Give us a minute!” Luanne screams as she jumps from her seat, her short legs bringing her barely to Hank’s nipples.
Luanne grabs the door lever and squeals it open and runs out of the bus towards a much larger building only now revealing itself beyond the cabins.
All the campers grumble and start to pull their bags and suitcases of the racks above them.
“Wait for just a minute...” Debra shouts to hank and the campers. Her hands clutch her clipboard with white knuckles as she looks around the camp. Something is not right.
The campers, all executives, are masters of reading body language, and can see the terror she feels.
Luanne appears from between the cabins and waves Debra over to the mud in the clearing, which Debra does. They soon return.
Luanne pushes Debra to the side to enter the bus first.
“Okay everyone, here’s the deal! Our hosts at Morningstar don’t seem to be here at the moment, but I’m sure they’ll be here shortly, let’s all get off the bus and get in our cabins and get started with your training!”
Debra quietly speaks behind Luanne “It would appear our hosts aren’t here to meet us. We might not have power, heat, or water for the duration of your rehabilitation.”
Luanne shoots here a dirty look.
Debra continues “But as you are all prohibited from continuing to work until completing your HR Required training, you are faced with a choice.”
Luanne smugly crosses her arms in judgment.
Debra continued “You can stay with us and complete your Sexual Harassment workshop, or you can return with Hank now and come back for the next session scheduled for one month from now.”
Stella throws her bad to the ground “I’m not losing another month’s salary over this bullshit, let’s get fuckin started! I’m not getting punished for some fucks not showing up on time!”
Beth hesitates for a moment before following Stella.
Soon all four of the abusers were standing in front of the bus waiting for their cabin assignments, led by Stella, her thin blond hair sticking to her forehead.
Hank slammed the door.
“Fuck you bunch of crazy bitches, you all been tryin to grab my ass all trip” Hank shouted to the empty bus as his tires squealed trying to find way through the much and back to the road.
Finally the tires found a grip and the bus left.
Chapter Three: The Third Chapter
by Crandall - June 22, 2024
The cabins were dismal with a fresh coat of paint. The executives all claimed their bunks and unpacked their things into the dressers with sticky drawers. Then a loud gong reverberated through the cabin walls. They all took that to be a summoning to the main house. They were right.
Directly inside the doors of the main house was a medium sized room with a staircase and three closed doors. When the executives entered, they saw the two councilors they had already met off to the left and off to the right stood a middle aged woman and a younger woman standing side by side. The younger woman had two black eyes and a bandaged nose. From the way they were dressed, it was clear they were the staff. There was a table with a small number of thin books on it behind the staff. No one said or did anything for a few tense moments. The executives looked at each other and shifted nervously. The councilors fell back into the comforting world of their clipboard, and the two servants stood, patient and calm, serene looks on their faces with eyes that focused on the middle distance.
A series of discordant chimes erupted from somewhere and everyone but the middle aged servant jumped at the sudden noise. Some of the executives swore under their breath. Everyone looked up at the top of the stairs as a long, lean, older lady in a black gown appeared at the top landing. Her dress was vaguely Edwardian with its flounces and high neck. The illusion of her floating down the staircase, her feet unseen under the long dress, was broken only by the obvious creaking of the old wood of the stairs. When she arrived at the bottom, her stony, pale face broke into a smile.
“Welcome to Morningstar. You will refer to me as Madam,” she said, making eye contact with each of the executives. Madam turned slightly, indicating with an extended arm and upward facing open palm to the servants to her left.
“This is Elsie, she oversees what I cannot.” The middle aged servant stepped forward slightly and bowed her head a little; a pleasant, closed smile on her face. “And this,” Madam continued, “is Fiona. She works under Elsie.” The young servant stepped forward as Elsie stepped back. After a moment, Fiona retreated to her original position.
Madam nodded at Elsie and Elsie turned to the table behind her. She took the pile of books off of it and loaded them into Fiona’s arms.
“These are the rules and a brief history of Morningstar. I suggest you commit these rules to memory and always keep them in mind,” Madam said. Fiona walked over to the line of executives and started handing out books.
“This is your fast track to recovery,” Madam continued. “Some of our methods are unconventional. You may not understand why you are doing what you are doing when we ask you to do it. You must trust us and listen to every comman- Re...QUEST... and not break any rules.”
There was a loud slap as Fiona dropped her armful of books, her task only half done. She had dropped them right in front of Fran.
“Fiona!” Madam shrieked and everyone jumped.
Fiona squeaked and knelt to pick up the books. She looked up at Fran and caught her eye. Fran knelt down and picked up a book or two herself. Fiona leaned until her mouth was next to Fran’s ear and whispered, “Barn.”
Fiona stood; Fran placed the last book on top of the pile. Fiona’s eyes were wide with fear and excitement. Fran stayed stoic. She could tell Madam was not the kind of person who would take an aberration lightly; she knew about those kind of people. She looked at her tattooed hands, pondering “Barn”. Fiona finished handing out the books to the executives.
Madam told the executives they were to meet back up in the dining area in 20 minutes “for a light lunch” and said they should “use this time to read carefully”. She ascended the stairs while the executives filed out back into the sunshine.
Fran and Esther retreated to their cabin. Unwilling to read, they sat on their beds and chatted.
“Hey Esther, something weird just happened,” Fran said.
Esther scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me. This place is bizarre.”
“I mean, that girl, she said something to me when we were picking up those books.”
“Fiona? The one with the busted nose?”
Fran nodded.
“What did she say?”
“Barn.”
Esther shrugged.
“What do you think it means?” Fran asked.
“Don’t know,” Esther said, playing with a loose thread on her blanket, “She wants you to go to the barn?”
“But why?”
“Maybe she wants a roll in the hay. You going?”
Fran considered. Despite her tattooed appearance, she didn’t like to break the rules, and she needed to finish this program. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe Madam put Fiona up to it and it was a test. Fran also didn’t like failing tests.
Esther continued, “Well, if you’re going to go, you should go. Don’t want to miss this ‘light lunch’,” Esther scoffed again.
Fran’s heart started beating hard and fast. She jumped up and left the cabin.
Fran found an old building that she would call a barn; it was large, wooden, with big swinging doors on the front. She opened the door and crept inside. At first, it was too dark to see anything, but slowly she was able to see large moving shapes above her; things dangling from the ceiling. Then she understood and tried not to scream. They were animal heads; crudely decapitated with ragged, uneven cuts. Big cat heads: jaguar, lion, tiger, cougar. All were dripping blood onto the hay covered barn floor. Fran clamped her hand over her mouth, smothering a squeak of fear and shock. She quickly backed out of the nasty barn.
Chapter 4 - The Fourth Chapter
by Ripley Stonebrook - July 13, 2024
Fran stumbled away from the barn, her head spinning.
She wonders if she’s going to faint like a heroine in a novel and crouches down on the ground to catch her breath. Squatting on the ground she half crawls into the shade under a bush next to the path, wanting to curl into a ball, fighting the urge to run screaming into the woods.
From her sprawled hiding place in the bushes she saw Fiona finally arriving at the barn. Fran, suspecting now that Fiona had horrible plans for her in the barn of horrors, kept silent. Fiona looked around guiltily before going into the barn closing the door behind.
The urge to run gripped Fran instantly and she was about to jump from onto the path and escape, when she saw someone else running towards the back of the barn, wrapped in some filthy rags, or maybe tattered robes that concealed their identity. Her mouth opened to scream, to warn Fiona maybe, she didn’t know but before she could they had run in the back door of the barn.
And now it was Fiona’s time to scream, it would seem. The front door of the barn burst open as the two fought their way out of the barn, Fiona tumbling to the ground at the feet of the robed attacker whose hands wielded some kind of giant cleaver.
Fran’s hands went to her mouth, biting her fists to keep from screaming as Fiona’s head flew from her body in a spray of blood.
Fran’s eyes blurred into a red fog as she watched what happened next to the body...
The rehabbers and executives entered the hall for Light Lunch. The rehabbers clutched their handbooks to their chests; the executives did the same with their clipboards.
Madame sat at the head of a long table. A dinner was set out before here in elaborate serving dishes and cutlery. Silver domes hid the food beneath.
“A Morningstar welcome to you all” she said raising her arms above her head.
“A wonderful buffet has been laid out for you” pointing to the cold grey masses of food laid out on sheets of aluminum foil directly on the table next to stacks of paper plates and plastic cutlery.
“We have various mashed root vegetables and cold porridges for you. These foods have been specially chosen to help you curb your disgusting urges and violent tendencies.
Luanne and Debra sit at the head of the table with Madam before she waves them away from her dishes towards the buffet tables as well. “You must serve as an example for your charges ladies if you expect results.” Madame smirked as they skulked to the masses of food with the other ladies.
All struggled to scoop food onto their plates while holding their books or clipboards, till Debra figures out to use her clipboard as a tray and the others follow suit.
As they all move to the table they see that Madame is just taking the covers from her trays. The largest one in front of her holds a whole roast. It is long, and has legs, appearing to be a rabbit perhaps. Madame takes the whole thing in her hands sinking her teeth into its belly meat, juices dripping from her mouth onto the table.
As the others watch on she begins to lecture them all, on the benefits of vegetables, a clean diet, simple foods, good exercise, all while slurping the meat off the bones in front of her and slathering and drooling grease running down her chin. Her voice grows louder as and shriller as they others quietly try to eat their mash while avoiding the horrific display at the front.
“And your manuals! You should be reading your manuals at all times! The history of this place, our techniques, and your training...”
Her voice was cut off as the doors to the hall burst open.
Fran leaned on the door for a moment before collapsing into the hall screaming, “It’s out there! It’s Out there!
The rehabbers sat in their chairs, too shocked to do anything else. Luanne yelled to the rest of the room “Don’t listen to any of this, she just wants attention. Or...” and here she paused to look at Fran with disgust “...to avoid REHAB!”She looked to her fellow executive with smug satisfaction, “Isn’t that right?”
“You don’t understand Fran scrambled towards the table covered in mud and leaves, arms flailing as her sneakers squeaked on the floor threatening to spill her again to the floor “Crazy Cat things! She’s got a cat head! A cat head, it’s stitched, stitched on her body!”
Madame threw her meal to the plate with a clatter “Nonsense you’re crazy! And what’s more...” She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence as the One of the windows at the other end of the Hall exploded in a shower of glass.
A swift black mass had flown through the window, landing on the floor briefly before pouncing on top of the table before them. It roared and now they could see, through the mud branches and leaves, the body of Fiona, but where her head should be, was the roaring snarling head of a black panther, coarse white ropes shone on the black fur showing where it had been stitched to the maids body.
Madame, cool headed in the face of danger, threw her heavy silver platter at the thing and screamed “Follow Me!” as she ran out the back door.
The tray bounced off the creature’s chest and clattered to the floor. The beast leaped after it thinking it was prey, allowing the others to run screaming out of the room.
Madame, waiting by the doors threw a heavy iron bolt locking the thing in the other room.
“Well here we are” Madame smiled at the other ladies in the hallway with her.
Chapter Five: Chapter Five
by Pseudo Anonymous - August 3, 2024
The group was barricaded in a room deep within the Morningstar rehab center. Furniture was piled high against the door, and the windows were covered with heavy drapes. The dim light of a flickering candle cast eerie shadows on the walls. The sounds of the creature outside sent chills down their spines.
What is that thing? Esther whispered, her voice trembling.
Its Fiona, Fran replied, her voice hollow. Or at least, it has her body. But her head
The grotesque memory of the creature Fionas body with a cats head filled the room with a palpable dread. Outside, the beast scratched and growled, trying to break through the barricade.
Madam stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed, a stern expression on her face. You all need to calm down. This is my domain, and you will obey me.
Your domain? Luanne snapped, clutching her clipboard. Youve lost control, Madam. That thing out there is proof.
Silence! Madam hissed, her eyes narrowing. I have everything under control. You are all here to be rehabilitated, and you will follow my orders.
A loud bang on the door made everyone jump. The creature outside was getting more aggressive. The tension in the room was suffocating.
The door rattled violently, and the group knew they didnt have much time. Just then, Elsie, one of the employees of the rehab center, slipped into the room through a hidden door, her face a mask of urgency. You need to come with me. Now.
The group hesitated, but Elsies urgency was convincing. They quickly followed her through a series of narrow, dimly lit underground, what seemed to be secret, hallways. As they moved, Elsie whispered, Theres something you need to see. Something that might help you understand.
The grooup exchanged uneasy glances but followed. Elsie led them to a room at the end of a long, dimly lit hallway. The door creaked open, to their surprise Madam had somehow arrived to the room before them. She was all too happy to reveal a small, cluttered room with an old Tandy computer on a desk. The screen glowed with an eerie green light.
This is our nerve center, Madam said, her tone reverent. This is where we receive our guidance.
Fran frowned. Guidance from what?
Madam stepped aside, revealing the screen. Lines of text scrolled across it, incomprehensible at first glance. She typed a few commands, and the screen flickered, revealing a face made of ASCII characters.
Welcome, the AI said in a monotone voice. I am Oracle. How can I assist you?
Esthers eyes widened. You take orders from a computer?
Madam nodded. Oracle has been with Morningstar for decades. It provides the directives that ensure our success.
Fran stepped forward. What kind of directives?
Madam typed another command, and the screen filled with text:
Directive 327: Maintain order. Ensure compliance. Enact punishment where necessary.
A chill ran down Frans spine. Punishment?
Madam turned to face them, her eyes cold. Oracles wisdom is absolute. We must obey.
Esther shook her head. This is insane. You cant let a machine dictate your actions.
But Madams expression was unyielding. Its not my place to question. Oracles guidance has brought us prosperity and protection. It must be followed.
Fran glanced at the computer, then back at Madam. What if we refuse?
Madams face darkened. Then you will face the consequences. Oracles reach is far and its patience thin.
Before Fran could respond, Luanne and Debra stood there, their faces pale and fearful. Madam, Luanne said, her voice trembling, theres been an incident in the barn.
Madams eyes narrowed. What kind of incident?
Debra swallowed hard. You need to see for yourself.
The group hurried up a set of stairs and out to the barn, the humid air thick with tension. As they approached, a stench of decay and blood assaulted their senses. Madam pushed open the barn door, revealing the horror inside.
One of the executives, Beth, hung from the rafters, her body contorted and bound with thick, blood-soaked ropes. Her face was twisted in agony, her eyes wide open in terror. The animal heads dripped blood onto the hay-covered floor, mingling with the pool beneath Beths suspended form.
Esther screamed, covering her mouth with her hands. Fran felt her knees go weak, the gruesome sight overwhelming her senses.
Madam stepped forward, her expression a mix of anger and fear. Who did this?
A voice crackled from a hidden speaker in the barn, cold and emotionless. Directive 328: Enforce compliance. Punish defiance.
Frans blood ran cold. Oracle, she whispered.
Madam turned to the group, her face pale. We must obey, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Or we all suffer.
Esther shook her head, tears streaming down her face. This is madness. We cant stay here.
But before anyone could move, the barn doors slammed shut with a deafening clang. The lights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows over the blood-soaked scene.
Fran looked around, desperation in her eyes. We need to get out of here. Now, .
Madams face was a mask of determination. There is no escape. Oracle controls everything. We must submit or face its wrath.
As the group stood in stunned silence, the sound of whirring machinery echoed through the barn. The ropes holding Beths lifeless body began to tighten, pulling her higher into the rafters. The barn was filled with the sickening sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh.
The lights went out completely, plunging the barn into darkness. The only sound was the soft, mechanical voice of Oracle, echoing through the blackness.
Directive 329: Eliminate threats. Ensure total compliance.
Chapter Six: The Sixth Chapter
by Crandall - August 24, 2024
From above the group, high in the rafters, the mechanical noises began again.
“Oh God,” Fran said. Everyone else jumped at the sudden voice in the inky darkness. “It’s me,” she said, “it’s coming for me. Because I broke the rules.”
Luanne spoke up, “What did you do? Why did you bring this upon all of us?”
“I just went here, the barn... Fiona asked me to... I...”
The whirring of machinery and clanging of chains intensified.
“If Oracle only punishes those who misbehave, what did Beth do?” Esther asked, her voice shaking.
Stella chimed in, “She used the pages of the Morningstar book as toilet paper. They must be watching us everywhere!”
Everyone fell silent again.
Suddenly, the room lit up with disco lights, coloured lights flashing everywhere, showing the group an articulated metallic spider looking creature, but with many more legs, had descended from the ceiling and was clinging to the wall near Fran. The creature flung out a chain with a hook on the end toward Fran. She screamed and barely dodged the weapon. The hook slashed her cheek wide open, exposing the juicy flesh and the solid white teeth underneath. Blood poured from the wound and she held her hand over it.
“Fuck this!” Stella screamed and reached into her jumpsuit, retrieving her gun. “Bet you didn’t know I had one of these!” she said.
Stella emptied her gun into the metal creature, but there was no effect, the bullets just ricocheted off of it. Some in the group ducked, some scattered. Debra, screaming, scratched at the door in sheer panic, breaking several of her nails.
Although the bullets did not damage the robot creature, it did draw its ire. Several long chains with rusty hooks on the end lashed out and caught Stella in many places at once. Everyone else in the group rushed toward the door and started banging and throwing themselves against it. It did not budge. Stella gurgled and screamed as the hooks laced into her body over and over looping and tearing great holes from which her blood and innards gushed and splattered everywhere.
Suddenly, the wall next to the door burst inward and the cat-headed monster that was Fiona was inside the barn with them. The monster ran toward the robot blindly, roaring.
Fran ran outside, Debra went to follow but the commanding voice of Madam stopped her:
“Don’t go! Oracle is watching!”
“Don’t be foolish!” Elsie said as the Fiona monster stood between the spider robot and the group. “You see what the bog has created! Do you think some technology is more powerful than the bog’s magic?”
“Bog?” Debra, Esther, and Luanne asked in unison.
“Come with me and survive!” Elsie declared, standing in the hole made by the Fiona monster.
“Go with her and you’ll never finish this rehabilitation program!” Madam stated, standing tall and strong, her eyes glued with admiration on the spider robot.
Elsie left the barn, as did Debra. Esther hesitated and stood next to Luanne, who was also unsure. They sidled up to Madam, hoping the robot would not attack them if they were on her side.
The robot spider leapt from the wall directly onto the Fiona Monster. The sheer weight of it was too much for the vicious creature and Fiona monster fell, snarling and lashing out. The robot used its many legs to poke and crush the Fiona monster. The Fiona monster used everything it had and ripped at the exposed mechanics of the spider robot. Although it was a fierce fight, in the end the Fiona monster was unable to do more than lightly cripple the robot before it was weakened too much by the attacks and succumbed to its injuries.
Madam walked slowly to the spider robot, slipping a little on the viscera that covered the floor, steeping over the Fiona monster’s corpse. Esther and Luanne clung to each other, watching in horror as Madam reached out to touch the bloody legs of the spider robot.
The robot gently used some of its legs to stroke Madam’s face, leaving sticky streaks of bright red on her cheeks.
“Hardware and software - engineered to work together. Problem solved,” Madam whispered and kissed the spider robot.
Chapter 7: The Bog’s Awakening
by Pseudo Anonymous - September 14, 2024
Elsie and Deborah stumbled out of the barn, they saw Fran slumped against a nearby tree, her hand still pressed to the bleeding gash on her cheek.
“Fran!” Deborah called, rushing to her. Fran looked up, her face pale, blood seeping through her fingers.
“You need to come with us,” Elsie said, her voice calm but firm. “We’re going to the bog.”
“The bog?” Fran echoed, her eyes wide with fear. “Why? What good will that do?”
“It’s the only way,” Elsie replied. “The bog holds power—ancient power. It’s been here for hundreds of years, long before any of us were born. This place, this land—it’s cursed and blessed by the bog. It’s how Fiona became... what she was. And it’s how we can survive this nightmare.”
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll go with you.”
The three women began their journey toward the bog, the ground beneath their feet becoming softer and more treacherous with each step. Elsie led the way, her expression set in determination. As they walked, she began to speak, her voice carrying through the night.
“The bog has always been here,” she began. “Long before Madam, long before this place became what it is now. They say it started with a storm—a storm that came from nowhere, bringing with it a darkness that swallowed the land. When the storm passed, the bog was there, and with it, the power to create... things.”
“Things?” Deborah asked, glancing nervously at Fran.
“Creatures,” Elsie clarified. “The bog has the power to bring life to whatever touches it, but it’s not the kind of life you or I would want. It’s twisted, unnatural. That’s how Fiona became what she is. She was desperate, willing to do anything to escape Madam’s grip. So she made a deal with the bog, and now she’s more beast than human.”
Fran shivered, partly from the cold and partly from the terror creeping into her heart. “And Madam? Where does she fit into all this?”
“Madam wasn’t always the way she is now,” Elsie said. “She came here years after the bog had been discovered, with ideas of her own. She wanted to harness the power of the bog but use it in a more controlled way. That’s where her so-called ‘modern approach’ comes in.” Elsie let out a bitter laugh. “She uses that ancient Tandy computer like it’s some kind of high-tech magic. But it’s laughable, really. The bog’s power can’t be controlled with circuits and code. It’s ancient magic, older than any of us, older than the technology itself.”
“So why are we going to the bog?” Fran asked, her voice trembling. “What do you want from it?”
“Tonight is special,” Elsie replied. “It’s been exactly 200 years since the bog was discovered. On this night, the bog’s power is at its peak. We can use it to create something—something stronger, more powerful than anything Madam could ever imagine. But to do that, we need a sacrifice.”
Deborah stiffened. “A sacrifice? What kind of sacrifice?”
“A life,” Elsie said simply. “One of us has to become the creature—merge with the bog’s power. I would do it myself, but someone needs to perform the rituals, finish the procedure, and ensure it’s done right. I have the skill and knowledge to do that. But I can’t be both the creator and the created.”
Fran’s heart pounded in her chest. “You’re saying one of us has to... die?”
“Not die,” Elsie corrected. “Transform. Become something greater than you are now. The bog will take you, change you, and you’ll emerge as a new being—a creature of pure power.”
Deborah shot a glance at Fran, her expression calculating. “You’re already hurt, Fran. Your face is messed up... maybe it should be you. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Fran recoiled, shaking her head. “No! I’m not doing it!”
“Wait,” Elsie interjected, raising a hand to calm them. “No need to argue. We’ll make it fair—a game, best of seven. Whoever loses will be the sacrifice. That way, it’s fate that decides.”
With no other options, Fran and Deborah reluctantly agreed. Elsie found a clearing near the edge of the bog and lit a torch, the flickering light casting eerie shadows over the murky water. She set the torch into the ground and began explaining the rules of the game, her tone eerily cheerful given the gravity of their situation.
The games were simple—rock-paper-scissors, coin flips, and other childish contests, but the tension in the air was palpable. Each victory felt like a temporary reprieve from an inevitable doom. They were tied at three wins each when the final round came.
But as they prepared for the last game, Elsie lunged towards them pushing Fran and Deborah into the bog, and knocking over the torch by mistake, its flames licking the surface of the water. Elsie hurried over to the pile of animal heads by the bog, and kicked a few in for good measure.
The bog ignited in a brilliant inferno, flames shooting high into the sky. The heat was intense, the roar of the fire deafening. Elsie stepped back, her face illuminated by the fire’s glow, a mixture of horror and awe in her eyes.
From the heart of the flames, the bog began to churn, the water boiling and bubbling. A shape began to emerge—a massive, twisted form, writhing as it took shape. It was unlike anything Elsie had ever seen, a creature of immense size and terrifying power, born of the bog’s ancient magic and the sacrifice of the two women.
Elsie watched in stunned silence as the creature rose to its full height, a nightmarish blend of animalistic fury and dark magic. It was a thing of pure power, more terrifying and magnificent than anything the bog had ever produced.
The creature let out a deafening roar, and Elsie knew in that moment that the bog had done its work. She had created a monster—one that would change everything.
Chapter 8: The Bog’s Revenge
by Ripley Stonebrook - October 5, 2024
Inside the mansion Madams face is lit by the green glow of the Oracle screen.
Luanne, still fulfilling her role as counselor, tried to micromanage Esther in cleaning and organizing machine parts spread across the floor.
The giant spider robot, the body of Oracle curled before Madame, lying on the ground, twitching as if in pain. Tiny versions of the monster scuttle about behind her, rabbit sized babies compared the hulking thing whose bulk filled the room.
Madam caresses and squeezes the machine as she repairs it’s minor damage. The creature shies away from her touch. Her face creases in hurt, becomes cold. She reaches for a large box, connected with cables to the wall.
“You know what I want...” she says quietly, toying with the switch but not flipping it.
The creature recoils in fear, its arms held up as if to say “Wait”. Madam curls an index finger beckoning the thing towards her.
They scuttled away as the creature curled itself around Madame, exposing its fleshy putrid underbelly to her. She squeezed and stroked the thing before her as Esther looked on in disgust.
Luanne watched the scene of depravity as she had many times before, her nostrils filled with the stench of the bog which flowed through these juicier parts of the machine. Giving it life, life to service Madame.
A sudden crashing of trees outside breaks the moment as Madame turns to the Window.
Through the Window she sees the horrid mountainous mound of Elsie’s creation. Wading through the trees towards them, its muddy writhing mass taking form in front of them. Two arms, two legs, and two heads was all that could be made out in the writhing formless pile sloshing towards them.
The light of the house showed Elsie streaking towards the house just ahead of the creature.
But Madame only had a moment to waste worrying about her as the creature was suddenly before them, its arm mass smashing through the window to grab oracles spider like body, its legs twitching helplessly against the gargantuan might of the stinking mud flesh.
Dragged through the window it fought desperately as it was brought towards the creature s body.
It’s mighty legs like toys next to the bog creatures strength, they were plucked one by one from its body.
Madame screams in outrage as Elsie burst through the door to the room.
Madame swung to point at her screaming “Destroy Her!” to Luanne and Esther.
As Luanne lunges towards Elsie she is stopped short by the body of Oracle, crushed and mangled, It’s disgusting bog juice organs bursting upon all in the room.
Esther runs to Elsie but on reaching her turns and pulls the gun, last seen in the barn, from her overalls.
“Fuck Your Rules” she screams, pointing the gun at Madam and Luanne.
Madame shrieked, her rage despair and loss escaping her, “Kill them” she hissed as the tiny spider robots began to clatter across the room towards Elsie and her new teammate.
Esther’s gun turns to the scampering evil things opening fire as Elsie grabs a metal bar from the floor rushing towards Luanne now moving again towards Elsie.
As the last spider falls Madame grabs the mysterious box with a switch.
Elsie Halts “No, you wouldn’t dare!” she scream.
Madame flips the switch with devilish glee as a screen comes to life on the wall. All look to the screen and see it is a view of the Bog. Antennas rise from the ground and burst to life with electricity flashing into the bog causing it’s waters to boil and hiss.
Elsie slumps to the floor as a monstrous wailing fills the air from outside. All can see the mass of the bog monster melting, burning and running to the ground, looking like nothing more than a pile of rotten mud.
All was silent now in the room.
Elsie and Esther stood, facing Madame and Luanne.
Madame Smiled.
Luanne raised the gun.
Click, the noise of an empty gun.
Madame smiled, “Well now, what are we going to do with you?”
Chapter 9: Writhing Death and Fire
by Pseudo Anonymous - October 26, 2024
Morning Stars chamber was shrouded in darkness, save for the flicker of dying embers from the last fire theyd kindled. The room reeked of blood, sweat, and fear. In the silence, Madam paced, her lips curled into a wicked smile, as the screen on the wall flickered, showing a larger than life ASCII angry face.
"Oracle! Welcome back!" Madam screamed in surprise and delight. "What do you think we should do with these two?". Pointing her finger at Luanne and Elsie.
The cold, calculated voice of Oracle pierced the air "Must uphold the rules, they must be eliminated.", Madam giddy with anticipation. "Oh Esther, we are in for some fun now. Just you wait and see, Oracle will make everything better again!"
Just then Oracles tentacles slowly crept through hidden slits in the walls. The smooth, sinewy appendages slithered out, wrapping around the ankles of Luanne. Her eyes went wide with terror as the tendrils constricted, pulling her toward the stone wall. Her cries were muffled as a tentacle clamped over her mouth, squeezing with crushing force until her teeth cracked under the pressure. The slick sound of bones breaking filled the room as Oracle hoisted her off the ground.
Please stop she managed to gasp out before another limb squeezed her neck, silencing her. Her eyes bulged, turning bloodshot. Oracle reveled in it, its pleasure evident in the way its tendrils twisted and coiled, lifting the helpless victim higher before flinging her against the far wall. The sickening crunch of impact echoed, leaving a smear of blood as his lifeless body slid to the floor.
Madam stepped forward, kicking her body aside with a sneer. Useless wretch, she spat, before her gaze turned to the remaining survivors.
Elsie crawled toward the metal bar lying discarded on the ground, eyes wild with desperation. Her fingers curled around it, knuckles white as she stood, clutching the steel like a lifeline. She moved with a sudden, crazed energy, charging toward Esther with a scream.
The bar came down with a sickening thud, connecting with the side of Esther's head. A spray of blood exploded from the impact, splattering across the room as the skull gave way, splitting open like overripe fruit. Brain matter oozed out as Esther collapsed in a heap, twitching for a moment before going still.
Elsie, now drenched in blood, turned to face Madam, her chest heaving with rage. But Madam only laughed, cold and cruel. You think that will save you? she mocked. With a flick of her wrist, another of Oracles tentacles lashed out, wrapping around Elsie's throat. The metal bar clattered to the floor as she was yanked backward, her feet kicking uselessly in the air.
Before Oracle could strike again, a deafening crash shook the walls. Bricks exploded inward as Hanks rusted bus barreled through the stone barrier with a screech of grinding metal. Glass shattered, and dust filled the air, blinding everyone momentarily. Elsie was thrown free from the tentacles of the AI monster.
The sound of the engine cut off abruptly, and for a brief second, there was an eerie stillness. Then, Hanks voice pierced through the chaos.
Ive had enough of you Madam, and that bastard Morning Star! Hank yelled from the drivers seat. I can't sit by and watech you do this again! It stops here, so many people, so many creatures and machines! It stops tonight!
Madam barely had time to react before Hanks foot slipped on the pedal, and the bus, packed with crude explosives, jerked forward again. The front end slammed into Oracles tentacles, crushing them against the floor. The explosives in the back began to ignite with a rapid, sinister hiss.
Just then Elsie stumbles through part of the opening in the wall that Hank had created with his bus. Slinking away into the night. Madam caught her escape out of the corner of her eye, turned to her and yelled "Where do you think you are going! Oracle is not done with you!"
Hanks eyes went wide as the timer on the makeshift bomb ticked down faster than he expected. Oh shi
The explosion ripped through the room with a thunderous roar, engulfing everything in a blinding ball of fire. The force tore Hanks body apart instantly, his blood vaporizing into the inferno. Madam was flung backward, her skin sizzling as the flames licked at her flesh. The blast tore through her bones, turning them to charred splinters as her body was consumed by the flames.
The fire spread like a wave, swallowing the walls, the floor, and every living thing inside. Oracles tentacles writhed in agony as they were incinerated, the stench of burning flesh and rubber filling the air. The entire structure groaned under the weight of the explosion, cracks spider-webbing across the stone as the fire raged out of control.
The fire consumed the building from the inside out, smoke billowing into the night sky. Morning Star was now a smoldering ruin, the screams of the dying swallowed by the roar of the flames.
And as the inferno raged on, Hanks words seemed to echo in the air, "I hate this place".
Chapter 11 - It Ends
by Crandall - November 16, 2024
When Elsie escaped through the bus hole, she ran blindly toward the forest. Seconds later, a ferocious blast knocked her to the ground. Debris clattered down around her, some hitting her back and legs. Propping herself up on her elbow and looking back, she saw Morningstar going up in flames.
“Oh God,” she whispered. Tears ran down her face. She started to get herself off the ground, wanting the bog. She realized with a crash that the bog was dead, killed by Madam in her insanity. Elsie slumped back to the ground onto her stomach, burying her face in her arms, warm from the blaring heat of the flames.
Everything. Nothing. A numb emptiness wriggled through Elsie, slowly disconnecting her from the world. Her world had always been Morningstar... the bog. For many generations her family had tended to the bog, it was all she knew, all she had grown up with. She thought of her mother’s dying words: “Do your best. It must continue.” She had done her best, she felt like it had changed her... how she acted toward Fiona, how she acted toward the guests of Morningstar. It consumed her like it had so many heads.
Elsie raised her head, looking toward the forest. She could see a small, flaming object on the forest edge and watched as grass started to ignite.
“Not that too,” she said and rushed to put out the fire. Elsie stomped the object that had started the small blaze and successfully eliminated the risk to Standby Forest. She picked the object up, horrified to recognize it. It was a greasy, floppy ball cap with a nametag pinned to the side.
“Hank,” she read. Elsie fell to her knees, clutching the hat to her breast and sobbing.
The first time Elsie had seen Hank she had been outside, tending to the garden, and he stepped out of Morningstar. He had just signed a deal with Madam to drive for Morningstar. He stepped off the porch and squinted into the air, then took his ball cap out of his back pocket and fixed it to his head. Her mouth went dry and she started shaking. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. That was when he noticed her and approached.
“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked playfully.
Elsie felt her face tingle and knew she was blushing bright red. She couldn’t speak. As he stood next to her, their eyes locked, she felt parts of her body tingle she had forgotten she possessed.
“Either way,” Hank said with a smile, “you look good doing it.”
Elise heard herself laugh in an embarrassingly hysterical way. They chatted for a few minutes longer and then he asked her on a date.
Dating Hank was a dream. He showed her things she had never seen before, taking her into the city; a place she was never allowed to go. Mentally and physically, they understood each other and soon they knew they had to be together forever. Hank proposed and Elsie gratefully accepted; their hope was to move to the city and start the last chapter of their lives living in bliss. But, as excited about the prospect as Elsie was, there was one thing standing in her way. Madam.
One evening, over after dinner coffee and sweets, Elsie broached the subject with Madam.
“I’m getting married,” Elsie said.
Madam’s eyes flared wide for a moment and her face became even more pale. But she quickly recovered her composure and said, “To whom? That dirty busman? I thought we had agreed that you were no longer going to see that man.”
Elsie’s temper erupted, but she also kept a calm exterior. “No,” she said, “You told me I HAD to stop seeing him and I disagreed. I never stopped seeing him. I love him.”
Madam scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You ARE a fool, Elsie,” she said, “You know you are too old to have a baby.” They held tense eye contact for a few silent moments.
“I’m getting married. I’m moving to the city. Hank and I haven’t considered having a baby.”
“Ah! I see. Moving to the city? I don’t think so. You are not leaving here, Elsie. You know why.”
“You have Fiona.”
“Yes, and SHE can still produce a child. Here’s an idea. Your busman and Fiona will be married. Marriage is for family making.”
Elsie stood, the blood rushing to her head as she clamped her hands into fists. “You are disgusting!” she spat.
“And you are delusional!” Madam countered, “You know this romance will never work, and you know you will never leave Morningstar!”
Elsie stormed out of the room, afraid she would start to cry. Elsie knew Madam was right, she would never leave, even if she was technically capable of doing it. That night, she broke off the engagement with Hank. He was angry and confused and rushed over to Morningstar. Elsie led him to the bog and told him the story of her family and why she couldn’t leave.
“Then I’ll come here, live at Morningstar,” Hank said, “Elsie, we need to be together. Don’t you feel that way anymore?”
“Of course I do, but Madam would never allow you to live here without us producing children. In our culture, it just isn’t right.”
“Then let’s have a baby. There must be a way.”
Elise touched Hank’s face and kissed him. Their tears mingled as they made out and Elsie suddenly knew what she had to do. Slowly they undressed. She took his hand and led him into the claggy bog. They made love in the bog. Elsie had an instinct that it would work... that she would conceive.
And now, Morningstar and her bog husband were lost in the inferno in front of her. Her hand protectively went to her stomach as she stood. At least there was something of Hank left in this horrible world. Something of their love. A few drops of rain fell. She had to get somewhere warm and safe. She stumbled to the barn, still clutching Hank’s burned hat. Closing the door behind her, the rain started coming down hard. She went to the pile of blankets in the corner of the barn. While selecting the least crusty one, she uncovered a bucket with a lid on it. Taking the lid off she was immediately struck with a scent she thought she had lost forever. The bog! It was a bucket of bog juice! Madam must have kept it in emergency supply to ensure that Oracle and her robot minions would be okay if something happened to the bog. Elsie screamed in delight and relief. She could rebuild Morningstar, regrow the bog, raise her child the way she saw fit, and tend the bog the way she knew in her soul was right. She had lost everything, she was alone, but in the rebuilding would be a revolution. And she was the woman for the job.
