Before starting my journey as a horror writer, I did work for several video game and comic book companies as a character and concept artist. Currently I'm an aspiring horror writer hoping to break into the industry through what opportunity I may find. My writing credits are mostly that of published work in the music and comics industry as well as two self published books so far, "Hellverse: Shadows of the Abyss" and "Hellverse: Bloodlines of Kaos." Whereas most authors these days cater more to modern audiences, my goal is to rekindle the poetic violence and debauchery of classic literature. I prefer a story to build to something instead of giving everything right from the start.
You can read more by Sean right HERE.
SUNDOWN
by
Sean Walusko
It’s not often that my kind yearns for the brilliance, or nourishment, of light, nor is it something that we fear. Unlike what so many believe, it is far from our greatest weakness. Though we would never admit our curious predication about such things, our finer appetites prevent it.
I spent the better parts of my childhood in Westchester, rummaging and pillaging what scraps I could. Most of my time was spent plucking unwanted babes from their mother’s breast, draining the rough ended haggards that had given their life to the bottle, and sucking dry diseased whores that knew not what beast fed upon them. I did this, without end, under the cover of black skies blanketed with shimmering starlight. It was the compounded superstition and premature idolatry of those younger years that kept me hidden from mortal eyes.
As the world of mortals strayed farther from their natural path, it became more difficult to hide amongst them. New technologies rose with further temptations. However, the habits of cattle do not disappear overnight.
It was after the second of their great wars that I left the English countryside and traveled to the new world. What I found was a land untouched by the fires of destruction. A land with plentiful bounty. A land with an overabundance of life.
I’d spent years stalking, feeding, scurrying like an insect, waiting for scraps to fall at my feet. It was near the end of their twentieth century when they began to amass in droves during the hottest months. Whereas before I would have felt the need to flee from one nest to the next, their hubris had instead allowed me to lay stake to a more permanent residence. It was the last place their kind would hope to set eyes upon me.
***
“Hey come on baby. You sayin’ you don’t want some of this?” asked a male of their species to an apparently unwilling female.
“No. Suéltame,” she screamed out.
“The fuck she say?” asked another male.
“I don’t know, just hold the bitch,” the first of these mortals replied.
The two men took the girl behind an alley and tore away at her clothes. I watched from the shadowed end of the precipice as they ravaged and raped her the way animals do. She screamed and clawed, but it was to no avail. From hundreds of feet away, I could smell the liquor on their breath and the iron of her blood. I felt their rage as I did her pain. Oh, how sweet this meal shall be.
I waited for them to finish unloading their seed into the girl, as I would not wish to interrupt such delicacies. How other creatures prey upon the weaker pales in comparison to the actions of what humans inflict on their own. And for that, mankind will always quench our thirst more than any other.
“Fuckin’ A bro. Summer in May…he…coooo. Yeah,” the drunkard hollered whilst tucking his cock away.
“Shit now what?” the other asked.
“Whatever, she loved it. All these chicas out here love that shit. We’re on vacation. Let’s live it the fuck up.”
Wise choice of words.
I waited for the drunkards to make further distance from their prey before I descended upon her myself. What shrieks were left came out as wailing cries whilst I tore my teeth across her throat. My clawed fingertips found their way through her stomach as I pulled out her womb and suckled its fervent nectar. Her fear tasted ever so sweet. Before the delinquents reached the end of the alley, I had finished feasting on their previous prize.
“Shit, I forgot my wallet,” one muttered.
“Fuck, hurry up. These Tijuana police don’t fuck around,” the other said back.
Now I would taste rage. I let the boy approach, to catch but a single glimpse of my ashen visage. He barely released a whimper before I was at his neck, gorging myself from gullet to intestine on his blood-soaked bile.
“What the fuck!” the other yelled out.
I unhinged his jaw with little effort. His head ripped away from its spinal column with a brisk pull and snap.
As dawn approached, I found my way to the coast, where in it were more than enough nooks and crannies for me to find safety.
***
In the coming weeks, I’d grown comfortable in my solitude. A simple dive, and weaving into deeper caverns, kept me from the tyrannical heat of the sun. During these hotter months, an abundance of naïve vacationers flooded my den with nary a need to pursue them. My meals came to me.
“Oh wow, this place is beautiful,” I heard one of them say as they surfaced.
“Just look at these structures. Wow,” said another meat sack.
I waited in the darkened crevices of my humble abode until five had surfaced. They rattled and spoke about their meaningless tidings while I watched them explore my cave. Within seconds, I had released their succulent bowels from their ripe pink bellies and found myself chewing on their marrow. The creatures of the sea were gifted with what I did not finish.
For the entirety of their summer months, I did this. No questions from their clergy, no search parties for missing loved ones. Blame, it would seem, was placed elsewhere.
And on those long, dark, days of summer, mothers would scream for their sons as fathers cried for their daughters. I envied their sympathy, for I had none. Only the sweet fulfillment of their children’s flesh rotting, decaying, within my fecund belly was all the morose empathy I could conjure. For in my insatiable hunger, all flesh was equal.
So it was that when the summer season came to end, so too did my grandiose feast. I welcomed the cold sting of winter, o’ the days of prolonged slumber. For after the end of my cocooned hibernation, I would awaken to seek new hunting grounds once more.