Dismembear of the Week - Week Three.

I made this little guy for my best friend, Leo, he was the second one I ever made which is why he's not the best looking fellow, but I'm still fairly chuffed with him!

 

My Monster by Hell.R.

I can’t move.

My body refuses to comply with the simplest of requests, even the twitch of a single finger seems impossible.

I can’t speak.

My tongue feels like it’s been torn out and replaced with a slab of felt, stitched in place to fool anyone around me that it’s real.

I can’t open my eyes.

My eyelids feel heavy, even getting them to flutter feels like a challenge in itself.

Even with my eyes involuntarily closed I can tell that I’m surrounded by nothing but darkness, I should be led in my bed and sleeping soundly, but this feels like something much deeper.

There are footsteps to my side, shuffling along the floor to my left, accompanied by the sound of a girl muttering and whispering. They don’t sound like the typical kind of footsteps, more like a light scraping as if they had to force their feet along the ground.

The voice doesn’t sound like a young girl, more like an adult mocking a child much younger than them in a crude imitation. It’s almost pantomime like.

Within mere seconds I feel them shift on top of me, legs placed either side of me and hands splayed across my chest.

They’re as light as you’d expect a child to be, but yet I still feel my breathing become restricted. Taking in the smallest amount of air becomes a tremendous task and within moments my lungs are begging me to draw in a deep breath.

Their weight begins to shift in a pattern and it doesn’t take long to figure out that they have started rocking, using me like some kind of toy horse.

“You left us,” she coos in that horribly saturated sweet voice.

I want to respond ‘Us who?’ but still can’t speak, all that comes out sound like slurred grunts of incoherent words.

It transpires that I didn’t need to be able to talk as she mockingly replies. “You know who ‘us’ is.”

I half expected to hear a giggle at the end of that sentence, it feels foreign and almost empty when she doesn’t.

The weight shifts again and I feel strangely textured hands running up my neck and along my cheeks, eventually halting as they rest there with the thumbs pressed against my lips.

With a lot of force I manage to shift my head to the side and try to dislodge the hands from the side of my face, instead she shifts my head back up.

My body is crying out for oxygen and I feel close to panicking.

“We didn’t get to finish our last game.”

I want to push her off but it takes so much will power to simply move one part of my body, after an intense struggle with desperation I feel only my right index finger twitch a little, brushing lightly against her soft leg.

That’s when the giggle finally filled the air and shrouded me with dread, it was a haunting sound as she took glee in my weakness.

I feel two of the fingers shift up to my eyelids and push on them ever so gently, she pushed until my eyes are opened half lidded.

Even in the pitch blackness of the room she seemed to be illuminated in an odd light, one that brought out all her features.

I recognised the grotesque, grey skinned and terribly thin ragdoll of myself, her eyes half lidded and staring into my own. Patchwork marks were strewn across her body leaving the closest thing to scars that could appear on her body, her clothes matched my usual shirt and jeans style except they were much more tattered.

Her head was tilted so her straggly, woollen hair tickled the side of my neck.

Her mouth was stitched into a lopsided smile.

“I missed you,” she whispers in a husky tone.

As if she just realised that she should have no free will her arms collapse from underneath her, she drops limply onto me so her head is resting against mine.

Despite no other signs of life aside from her movement, I can hear her breathing in my ear. Almost like she was bragging about the life she was taking from me.

As she lies with her head resting against mine, the stolen breath wafting over my face rhythmically, she reminds me of a child. Cuddling up to the mother figure for comfort and warmth, waiting for those soft words of protection, she closes her hauntingly dark eyes and lets out a sigh of contentment.

My mind starts racing as breathing becomes impossible, no air was leaving nor entering my body and the world around me was getting hazy. It’s a familiar feeling, one I’ve encountered a few times in my teen years when this monster first reared her head and dragged me away from everything.

I won’t let that happen again.

I was defeated once and overcame it all, as I finally make my right hand move with great difficulty, I vow to myself that I will be sure to fight it again, get my strength back and steal my life from back her once more.

Hell Reviews: Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher.

Synopsis: You can't stop the future. You can't rewind the past. The only way to learn the secret . . . is to press play.
Clay Jensen returns home to find a strange package with his name on it. Inside he discovers several cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker - his classmate and first love - who committed suicide.
Hannah's voice explains there are thirteen reasons why she killed herself and Clay is one of them. If he listens, he'll find out why.
All through the night, Clay keeps listening - and what he discovers changes his life . . .
Forever.

This is one of those books that I picked up on a whim and kept on my bookshelf gathering dust for a few years.

Before working in my current job I always found that I tended to stick to the same kind of reading pattern and I was still learning, even at the age of eighteen, what 'my thing' was outside of manga.
In the past I'd picked up varying horror stories, ranging from kids to adults, picture books to novels, and very rarely did I delve out of that kind of genre. Which isn't something I'd do with the media I'd watch, I could tune in to all kinds of shows without needing them to be ghost based.
From time to time I found myself picking up a crime book from CSI: Crime Scene Investigation or the one Criminal Minds one I've read (I still have two more to read and I've had them for years) and I have read two biographies by two different comedians, otherwise I pretty much stuck to my basics of reading whilst still buying books from all kinds of genres about all kinds of subjects that got put to one side and never read, something more ghost based would usually be picked over it.
Eventually I jumped into new genres and began to whittle down my 'to read' pile when I didn't have a stack of about twenty four manga book to catch up on.

It wasn't until about May of 2015 that I picked up this books, finally ready to find out all about Hannah and why she committed suicide. The concept interested me and it seemed like my kind of thing, unfortunately it didn't quite live up to my expectations.

Now don't get me wrong it was fascinating, but I think that even at only twenty five I was perhaps too old for this book.

I couldn't sympathise with Hannah, nor really care about her problems as they all seemed rather trivial and nothing that far from what others dealt with. I know, people deal with things in different ways but this just felt like a bunch of tapes of happenings that she would have gotten past had she just fought and continued to push through things.

Most of her points could have been: A: easily avoided or B: easily ignored.

With her personality it seemed like she would have been able to brush these things off fairly briskly and move on in life, none of them seemed overly traumatic and in some cases she seemed to be the antagonist which caused it to happen. However she also isn't all that unique, she's still the 'deep', 'philosophical' girl with 'out there, radical' ways of thinking that a lot of teen female protagonists seem to be.

Then again everyone thinks differently, everyone has a different upbringing so maybe some people find it relatable and can understand her. I sadly didn't and found myself either questioning her actions, double taking at them or simply rolling my eyes at some of the things she said.
I only finished the book purely because I wanted to know what else was contained in the tapes, otherwise I would have had no reason to continue as I didn't care about any of the characters which is a shame, it had so much potential.

Clay is just find of there and ultimately had no real reason to be the main focus of the ones listening to the tapes, I feel it may have been more enjoyable if we followed as the tapes were being passed around and seeing the reactions of each character mentioned.
As a main boy he was just your typical 'could be any guy' character with no impact, the only reaction I ever got based on him was a little giggle as his name reminded me of a love child between a character from Friday the 13th (2009 remake) and one of the leading men of Supernatural...well...technically both of them seeing as the other lead plays Clay in the film, but I digress. That doesn't stop him from being boring, bland and a main character with no lasting impression.

All other characters I have honestly completely forgotten, along with most of her reasons why and most of the story really. I had to actually look back and re-read my old review and bits of the book to remember why I didn't enjoy it.
It's ultimately a forgettable read with unrelatable characters, a book that I feel doesn't help portray the thoughts and actions of a suicidal teen, but what do I know?
The premise is interesting but the execution isn't.

Would I recommend it?
Sure, but not all too enthusiastically.

Hell Reviews: Sanatorium.

 

Synopsis: For the 100th edition of their popular TV show Ghost Trackers , a team of paranormal investigators visit the notorious Hillcrest Sanatorium where a bloody massacre once took place. They venture into the bowels of the abandoned hospital to investigate claims of disembodied voices, ghostly apparitions and incidents of missing children that have made Hillcrest infamous. What they discover there is far worse than anything they could ever have imagined, and as they go deeper into the building they start to realize they may never get out alive.

 
This is one film I picked up on a whim, and surprisingly I really enjoyed it.

I personally really enjoy a good asylum based horror story, whether it’s film, novels or non-fictional stories, there’s just something about the details of the institution and the patients that just give me a thrill.

There’s something about the creepiness of the stories of past inhabitants, the actions of the staff or just general practices from back in the day that really grab my attention and screams at me to continue taking notice.

Sanatorium is a good, easy watch film, one where if you feel like watching a film you don’t need to be too invested in and just want to switch your brain off watching then there’s nothing you’d miss by putting this one on.

That’s not to say it’s bad and an empty film which lacks content, it’s an entertaining film for it’s run time but it’s certainly not one where you go in expecting nothing and want to unwind watching and instead end up find yourself catching things in the background of the shot that give small hints as to what’s going on along the way, hints that you need to pay attention to in order to follow the story.

This is usually where I’d put the ‘cons and pros’ but I have very few points so it would render it useless in this segment, so instead I am going to just make small points in a paragraph of each.

Now for me, it was a solid story for the film it was trying to be, while the characters could be a bit eye roll worthy they’re still fun to see interacting with each other.

It’s not a totally original story, it came out in 2013, only two years after Grave Encounters which was released in 2011. Considering the format and content of Sanatorium it’s easy to compare to Grave Encounters, and whilst it’s a good film Sanatorium isn’t one that I would choose to watch over the other if I had both on DVD.

The characters are the basic ones you’d expect to see in this kind of film, they have a little bit of background to make them have a story but otherwise they are mostly just blank slates, these kinds of characters are usually made so that the audience can project themselves onto them. I find that in horror films it’s unneeded, I would rather watch a horror film of characters I care about than one where it’s like ‘see, this could be you, what would you do?’

I don’t need to think about what I’d do in that situation, that isn’t why I, personally, watch horror films. I can think about that kind of situation and what it’d be like to be stuck in it, without needing the film to give me a character to latch onto and claim as being ‘me’.
Sometimes it seems like the writers weren’t sure if they wanted to make blank slate characters who you can project yourself onto, or characters who you need to feel and sympathise for so they floated in a happy medium. This didn’t really hit me until I sat here and just thought about the film, so it’s neither a negative or a positive, just a thought in hindsight.

The atmosphere is hard to get into as it’s a film of jumpscares, just like Grave Encounters was.

Despite being a horror fan I have an immense dislike to jumping, I am the first to admit that I jump easily which is a large disadvantage to being a fan of this genre these days.
Unfortunately it seems like all creators lately believe that jumps and screams equal fear and to me it just doesn’t. I would much rather be sucked in by an uneasy atmosphere and build up than sudden jumpscares to get a reaction from the crowd. The problem is that so many people say they were ‘scared’ when watching these kind of horror films, whilst I see jumping as more of a reaction and reflex thank fear, but the masses opinion means more than a mere few.
I felt the same about Paranormal Activity, given it’s hype I was hoping there’d be more to it than just mere jumps. It had an interesting story but I felt they were trying too hard to fit in the scares than create an atmosphere.

Did I jump whilst watching Paranormal Activity?

Yes.

Was it due to fear?

No

And it seems to me these days that most films seem to take that route, sadly Sanatorium is no exception. I’m just glad this one has an enjoyable premise behind it otherwise I’d be leaving my first watching with a large ‘meh’.

My only, and main, problem with this otherwise good film was that it is a more found footage style, which does fit the film due to it being another reality TV copy.

This is only a gripe of mine due to motion sickness, and compared to other films it’s not the worst or least stable when it comes to camera motions.

So would I recommend it?

Sure, it’s a good film and one that I kept the DVD of and would happily suggest to a friend.

Side note: Not to be mistaken for Sanitarium, even the great Robert Englund can’t save that borefest.

Happy Easter! With an Added bit of Potential Horror!

Hey everyone!
It's officially Easter here in the UK, so I dropped in to say that I hope everyone enjoys themselves and has a decent holiday.
The clocks have officially gone forward here, it's currently 3am and I'm tired from some long days at work, so I'm currently lounging in bed watching Criminal Minds.
Plans for Easter would be helping my dad make some chocolate rice krispie/cornflake cakes and enjoying a nice roast for dinner and trifle for dessert! Not that anyone cares but hey-ho!

Today I feel like we stumbled into a horror film earlier at work, as we were getting ready to leave and doing the final sweep of the shop to make sure it's all clean and ready for the two working on Bank Holiday Monday, and my co-worker stumbles across some random USB stick.
Now I've seen enough media in my time to know that there could be some juicy stuff on there!
Perhaps a secret link to a deep web red room ring.
Or perhaps co-ordinates leading to a location with Hostel like intentions and a location tracking device for those who look at it.
The USB stick would be left lying around for unsuspecting and curious people to pick up, stick into a computer and 'decipher', maybe a do-gooder would check it out to see if there was any information on there to contact the original owner or find an address to post the stick to. Thus luring in their next victim or victims who have to fight for their lives despite complete inexperience.
With the stick in what seemed to be it's original packaging I'm guessing they re-packed it to make sure that no-one would suspect anything, no need to worry about something that looks so innocent.
Or you know....it could just be a brand new USB that hadn't been unpacked and popped into a larger clear, plastic bag that got dropped by accident.
I'm sure I've just watched too many films, but I'd still watch another one like any of those!

Anyway!
Happy Easter everyone!

Update: We just made our cakes! Sadly we didn't have any Mini Eggs to put on the cakes, so instead we got large M&M's!

La..la..la... by Hell.R.

Why won’t it stop? I just want it all to stop.

A whimper left my throat as the sound continued to resonate around my head, it had been like this for hours. Constant yelling and screaming, thuds and crashes, the usual routine of sounds repeated over the course of two days before things would go silent for another week, their anger towards each other rebuilding over the week until one of them steps ever so slightly out of line.

It had to have been a record for them though, they usually began around early evening however tonight they’d made it until late night at about ten pm.

Usually I’d use music to try and cover the sound, my hands would cover my ears to distort the sound further as I danced around my room clumsily. I didn’t care what moves I made as long as I focused on the muffled music to take my mind off of things.

However tonight had been different.

I’d stood in the darkened hallway and watched their silhouettes in the light that rested on the floor from the open doorway of the living room, their movements threatening towards each other. Pacing back and forth, pointing as they spat violent insults and accusations at one another.

There was at least one respectable thing about them, despite me being an adult they tried to keep their arguments concealed from me and would stick to the boundaries of that single room to hold their disagreements, as if that room was sound proof to the rest of the world.

I never understood why they didn’t at least close the door, obstruct the doorway to keep the noise behind the wood. Instead they let the light from the room pool out into the hallway as their voices bounced along the bare walls.

Memories continued to flash violently in my head, I tried to stop it with all my might but it seemed impossible.

Lifting my gaze I looked towards the doorway from the corner of the hallway I sat in, I took in the sight of the bloody trail of footprints that had been left. The blood already congealing against the wooden floor, the sticky substance causing my feet to tack against the floor every time I moved my legs.

A limp, feminine hand now rested in the doorway where the footprints started. Blood dripped from the fingertips and created a pool underneath the palm of her hand.

I remember how she’d tried to block the open wound with that hand, trying to stem the flow of blood.

The look of surprise she’d given me as the knife sunk into her like it would through the softest butter flashed into my mind, her eyes shone with betrayal as she stared into my eyes, questioning why her own daughter had turned on her so violently.

Her mouth hung open unattractively, but the shouting still hadn’t stopped.

Her husband had tried to help her, running to help cover the wound with his own hand. He turned an evil glare towards me and began screaming abuse at me, making the shouting even louder. My eyes stared at him blankly until the pieces of the puzzle fit into place, realization hitting me hard.

It was him; he was the cause of my torment.

The knife had been plunged into his back, how many times I couldn’t remember but it was enough to make him slump over the woman’s body. His blood seeped out onto the floor and coated my feet. Once all movement had seized from the body I’d stepped over him to make my way back to my room, I hadn’t gotten far before a tight grasp caught onto my ankle, which I fiercely yanked away and proceeded further into the darkness without looking back to stare at the pleading face I knew was being pulled.

I had barely made it three steps away when the sound of shouting, crashing and stomping made its way into my ears again.

It hadn’t stopped, why hadn’t it stopped?

I found myself frozen to the spot until I could find the courage to turn towards the living room.

No movement met me as my eyes stared into the room where the two figures lay motionless, cuddling up to each other even in death.

The noises only seemed to grow louder despite the room being still.

I’d sat in the corner hoping that eventually the noise would fade away, my gaze glued to the hand in the doorway, just waiting for the slightest twitch of life.

The weapon lay next to my left foot, the blood coating the weapon was proof enough of what I’d done. Proof that the source of the noise was disposed of.

So why was the yelling still continuing?

I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my head on top of them, covering my ears tightly to block it all out, but it wouldn’t stop.

I’ve been sat like this for hours and silence has still evaded me.

I’ll just continue sitting here in the darkness, rocking side to side with my ears blocked until it all goes away.

Maybe I can block the persistent noise with my own voice.

“Lalala…”

Dismembear of the Week! - Week Two.

This little guy was made for my brother's girlfriend one Christmas about three years ago, I can still feel the sore fingers from doing the nose transplant!