4/4/11 Marie's visits

More on John Croft. Does it sound like I'm bored with him? I'm not.

John Croft’s daughter, Marie, died when she was 7 years old. During the Nightmare Cometh short story she returns. She was able to re enter this world by hitching a ride on the activities of demons and other supernatural events. The first time he experiences this is when he sees the bum on the street. The next time is when he awakens to the sound of his voice mail and sees the bum in the bathroom mirror. The next time is when he sees her in the car wreck. Then also right before he is alone on the street. He hears her laughter as he is in the nightmare of the empty street. When Mariana showed him her fingers. When he saw the bum in the street on his way to peters. When he drinks the water in Peters office.

4/2/11 Ideas from movies i watch

So I watched "Gangs of New York" and came up with this. Ties into the John Croft storyline but way before Mr. Croft was even born.

The Civil War Draft riots in New York City were caused by the forced draft but it had a dark, sinister cause also. Cults worshipping dark forces had the city on edge. They had infiltrated both the rich and the poor. They had their influences in politics and in slums. The dark forces had an environment that was perfect for their manipulation. Big names in history had no real connection to these dark forces but people working for or with them did. William “Boss” Tweed did not know that his undersecretary was a worshipper of the dark forces. The bloodshed of the civil war and the riots fed many dark creatures.

4/1/11 John Croft's Reputation

Not really sure where I came up with his name but it helped create what he became.

John Croft’s reputation preceded him and it usually made every circumstance worse. When he fought the Disciples of Yog-Taraoth they had an entire army of Ghasts to protect their worship site. It was overkill to protect a circle of stone in the middle of the countryside thirty miles from the nearest town. When he investigated the disappearances of a town’s children a flock of dagon’s were brought in to deal with him. Both times he overcame them but it was by sheer luck. He went from talking about nightmares with patients to hunting down dimensional monsters and stopping the invasion of this universe by evil and chaos.

3/31/11 John Croft and his dead daughter

Oh, John Croft, you filled my days with misery but I really like your story.

John tried hard to walk as fast as he could to Peter’s office. But he continually looked up at the windows above him.

As he passed an alley he briefly looked in. He stopped dead in his tracks.

The homeless man stood in the alley. His dirty army coat was wide open in the front and long tentacles writhed from under it. A large fang filled mouth split his torso from beltline to neck. The man’s head lay limp to one side. He mouthed words but the voice that came forth was Marie’s.

“Daddy, keep going. You must stop him. He sees you.”

The homeless man leapt from the alley. The maul of fangs chomped hungrily for John.

John stumbled back from the alley and into the street.

When the homeless man hit the sunlight he vanished.

John stood in the street. His arms shielded his face as he braced for the attack.

A car screeched to a halt inches from John.

“Get out the way, dumbass,” the driver yelled.

John slowly lowered his arms.

A police officer on the sidewalk grabbed John and pulled him out of the street.

“What do ya’ think you’re doin’?” the officer asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.” John stared down the alley.

“How ‘bout you get movin’ and stay out of the street.”

John nodded and continued on his way.

As he turned the corner of Peter’s block he noticed someone leaving Peter’s building. It was Marianna.

She looked around as she walked down the sidewalk. She wore a gray woman’s business suit and her hair was down. She disappeared around the far corner of the block.

John ran to the end of the block.

Marianna was nowhere to be seen.

John went to the door of Peter’s building and pushed the intercom button for his office.

He waited for Peter to respond.

“Who is it?” Peter answered.

“It’s John. Open the door.”

“John? What the hell…”

Static interrupted Peter.

Marie’s voice emerged from the intercom.

“Daddy? You need to stop him. He sees you and wants to come.”

Fear sent John staggering away from the intercom.

The door buzzed.

John threw open the door and ran inside.

3/30/11 John Croft and his dead daughter

More of John Croft.

The bar was busy for early evening. Its open sign blinked at all who walked past it. It beckoned to them.

John stood across the street and watched as New Yorkers could not resist the neon’s sign draw. They went into the bar through the padded red door with its silver buttons and small diamond-shaped window. The bar was the same sanctuary where John had spent years drinking his marriage, career and the life of his daughter away.

He tried to tell himself he didn’t want to go in but he really wanted it more than anything. He was jealous of those people who wandered into the gaping hole that was hidden by the red door. He swore he could feel the cool metal handle of the door in his hand. He swore he smelled the stale alcohol on the damp air of the dark bar.

He felt his foot leave the curb and step into the street. He had given in to the neon sign’s siren call.

A loud crash shattered John’s yearning.

Startled, John jumped out of the street.

People ran to the intersection up the block.

“Somebody call an ambulance.”

John followed a group of people up the street.

As he approached the intersection he recognized the intersection as the one where Marie was killed.

A cement truck had plowed into a car that had failed to stop at the sign. The front of the car was crushed. The people in the car were not moving.

John’s breath caught in his throat as he stood back from the gathering crowd. Somewhere in the crowd of people a young girl laughed.

He saw himself sitting in the driver seat of the car. Next to him sat Marie, her face bloody.

“Marie!” He yelled.

Somebody in the crowd turned back to him.

“You know them?”

John looked at the person and then to the wreck. Marie was gone.

“No. Sorry,” John said.

John and the others watched as an ambulance and cops showed up. A fire crew used the jaws-of-life to remove the young couple from the car. As they put the woman on the stretcher John had to look twice. Somewhere in the crowd the young girl laughed and clapped.

Marie looked back at him from the stretcher. Her eyes unblinking, lifeless.

“Daddy,” he heard her whisper.

“Marie?”

John tried to push through the crowd.

“Watch it, dude,” Someone said as he was forced back.

John followed the stretcher. He jumped to see over the crowd of people. As they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance he saw the injured woman again.

“What the hell is going on,” John asked out loud.

“Another accident,” the woman in front of him said. “There’s one at least once a week. Stupid drunk people don’t stop at this sign and pow they get hit by the traffic that doesn’t have to stop. A few years ago a little girl was killed.”

John looked over at the lady. She didn’t look back at him as she watched the ambulance drive off. John noticed her skin was gray and mottled with pox marks and scars. Her hair parted on the side of her head. A bulge emerged and it opened. A dark, inhuman eye stared back at him.

3/29/11 John Croft and his dead daughter

So I was trying to figure out what I wrote for the 29th and then I realized what it was. I worked on my Horror short story all night long. Here is a tad bit of it. I plan on making it into a Kindle property. Enjoy.

John Croft ran in between the diner tables after Shelby. He did not want to lose the last connection to his daughter. He caught up to his ex-wife before she made it to the door of the diner where they met every year on their daughter’s birthday. He grabbed her above the elbow. She turned to look at him with her tear filled green eyes.

John sensed the nervous glances of the nearby patrons. He knew he looked like crap. That was the first thing Shelby said. His brown hair was not brushed. His face had five days worth of stubble. But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to lose her.

“Shelby, wait. Let’s talk about this,” John said.

“Don’t, John!” Shelby pulled her arm free from John’s grasp. She straightened the sleeve of her gray business jacket and shook her head at John. She walked out the diner.

John saw his reflection in the mirror behind the counter. He looked crazy. He looked around at the patron’s who avoided eye contact with him. John pursued his ex-wife out into the busy New York sidewalk.

“Shelby, wait.” Annoyance and anger caused his voice to get louder. John felt he was on the verge of yelling.

Shelby turned and looked at him with pleading eyes. Her shiny, red hair glistened in the late morning sunshine.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Shelby moved with the traffic of the sidewalk away from John. The other pedestrians brushed against her. John wanted to rescue her from the stream of people keeping her from him. But he knew she didn’t want his rescue. She didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Whenever I see you, I see Marie, and it breaks my heart,” Shelby said. “I need to heal and seeing you every year on her birthday is not helping me.”

Shelby wore her favorite gray business suit. The same suit John hated. John began to think she had planned this.

“I need this.” John pleaded with her.

“I’m sorry.” Shelby continued away from him.

John’s cell phone rang. He furiously dug it out of the inner pocket of his corduroy jacket.

“Shelby, wait!” John looked at his phone. When he looked back up Shelby had disappeared into the crowd of people on the sidewalk.