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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/257383-Gore-Was-Everywhere
by Shaara
Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #752727
These short stories were written for the Black Harvest Flash Fiction Horror Contest.
#257383 added October 1, 2006 at 5:18pm
Restrictions: None
Gore Was Everywhere
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Note: This is meant to be a humorous take-off of horror short stories. I hope I do not offend horror lovers or horror haters. The task was to get as much "gore" into the production as possible.


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Gore Was Everywhere




         The gore of the woman’s skirt was slightly torn. She pieced it together with her fingers and swore daintily. A passing pedestrian smiled faintly at the sweetness of her murmured, “Pigeon feathers.” The man paused a moment as if to listen to her words.

         “I just can’t believe I ripped my skirt! Why the seam of the gore is halfway gored.”

         The man, who would have smiled bigger had not very red and drippy blood been running from his nose, was involved in fighting off the siege of gore that streamed from his nostrils. He was obviously failing, and the purple bandana he held over his nose made him look freakish.

         The woman dispensed with fretting over the gored gore of her skirt. It was bothersome, granted, and it made the animals that paraded across the material of her skirt take on a more fearsome appearance. Several, because of the rip, appeared to be goring each other with their fearsome, blood-stained tusks.

         The woman, whose name was Goria Gored, finally noticed the pedestrian’s desperate situation. “Are you okay?” she asked inanely.

         “Just fine, ma’am, just fine,” the man told her in reply, and he sniffled the warm, wet blood back into his nostrils so he could speak to her without the gore destroying their conversation.

         “I wore my gored skirt with the animals on them because I’m on my way to the freak show," the woman told him. “I’d invite you to go with me, seeing how you’re probably a very nice man. I can tell that, you know since you smiled with blue eyes that are only slightly streaked by hard drink, smoke, and late nights.”

         “Why, thank you, ma’am,” the Texan said. He would have tipped his Stetson to her, but he was afraid that the gore of the dripping blood would upset her delicate sensibilities, seeing how she was a beautiful woman as the torn gore of her skirt gave him a peek at her luscious, naked limbs.

         “I’d be mighty obliged to escort you, miss, if you don’t mind a little nasty, dripping gore.”

         “Why, I think I can stop that blood and gore,” she said, and she ripped three gores off the sides of her skirt.

         Tex was salivating as he watched her naked, nude and wonderfully bare thighs clench and unclench, clench and unclench. (Goria had just been lectured by her doctor about exercising, and she was most intent on keeping the muscles in a particular part of her anatomy perfect, just in case the need should arise . . .)

         But we were talking about Tex's salivating; his spit and dribble mixed readily with the almost clotting flood of dried and fresh blood that was caked or dripping down his nostrils, chin, and neck.

         Tex wiped the back of his hand across his face, mixing this gore nicely, and then he blew his nose. The spray of pink and dark red in almost a scarlet liquidy mixture of gore, he wiped up quickly using the purple bandana.

         Goria watched intently, and when Tex was finished, she sighed and gave a pert little shrug which sent the remaining gores of her skirt so much higher that the blood in Tex’s nose went someplace entirely different.

         And so, Tex and Goria Gored proceeded down the streets of Laredo, neither one knowing that the other, as innocent as he or she seemed, were really in truth Cereal Killers. Goria never passed a breakfast without eating a bit of gore on the side. She most often chose slightly red rare steaks. Tex, was quite the opposite; he drank his gore mixed with raw eggs, yogurt, honey, and protein powder. (Powdered Gore was the number one best seller on the health food circuit that week.)

         The day was quite pleasant. A couple of dogs were mauling each other. One had ripped off the other’s ear and was slurping the gore from it. The other was gnawing on his foe’s open wound. The flies buzzing about disturbed neither animal. They were too intent on “carnivorous pouching.”

         When the couple arrived and sat down, the Freak Show proved to be as exciting and stimulating as they had envisioned. Freaks were everywhere, some of them in the show. Two of the freaks were goring each other with fake swords, while another was hooking up the gore of a sail on an old wagon that was supposed to sail humorously across the sawdust inside the ring.

         But I’m afraid, dear reader, that the comedy acts going on all around them, were only foreplay for the newly-met couple. They had eyes only for each other. Even when one of the freaks gored the other with his sword and a canister of fake blood oozed down in gut-wrenching quantities, the love-struck couple hardly noticed. In fact, if anything, that only reminded them of the terrible nose bleed of Tex and his battle to keep the gore from staining his cowboy shirt and boots.

         Not long after the freaks had all killed each other in a mad show of gore and guts, the couple rose and, hand in hand, cheek to cheek sallied forth at top speed to Goria’s flat.

         Blood-stained boots -- one gruesomely, saturated—from-the-hemorrhaging-nosebleed-shirt, jeans, bra, panties, boxers, and socks all blended in a blood-spattered mess while their owners enjoyed the process of getting to know each other deliciously gore-free.

         All would have ended so pleasantly -- especially when they woke up again -- except it was the wrong night. The Freak Show was in town. . .

         Thus, at midnight, when Tex and Goria were sound asleep, the Jellow Man, one of the show’s “Gore Brothers” broke into Goria's flat and slipped across the floor. Not a single board creaked, nor faucet dripped, as he made his way with his twin knives held high and his bowl of red slime gelatin in readiness.

         Jellow Man reached the lovers’ side. He paused a moment to admire the naked beauty of Goria. His hand brushed across her breast. For a moment Jellow Man looked almost sane, but it was a fleeting flash of humanity. He plunged his knives into the hearts of both Tex and Goria. The gore dripped. The blood dripped. The gelatin almost dripped, but quickly Jellow Man righted it and caught the drips. When he had milked the bodies dry, he ate his dessert, and then he laughed. “Freakin’ delicious,” he said, and then he left the blood-stained, gore-filled room to return to the Freak Show.

          Alas, Gloria Goria and Tex, gored beyond redemption, are no more. Only the gore of their remains lays on the blood-dripping bed. But Jellow Man still lives, haunting the night in search of dinner and dessert.





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© Copyright 2006 Shaara (UN: shaara at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Shaara has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/257383-Gore-Was-Everywhere