A Merry Monster Story

For Experience Writing  Halloween Flash Fiction Prompt: What’s your favorite monster?

Christmas Morning, Hotel de Cluny (1886) by Edwin Deakin (British, 1838–1923) – Crocker Art Museum (Sacramento, California)

What if I told you that my Great Grandmother was a werewolf? That she could change to her wolf form at will?

Could you believe what I said was true?

Would you believe my Grandmother if she told you herself that she was standing under a hot silver sun in a city called Djoser the day the first pyramid in Egypt was completed, and that aliens didn’t design and build it, but a very handsome Egyptian named Imhotep did?

She said Imhotep always—and she emphasized always—cheated at a game called Mehen. They played for gold, and my Grandmother had no use for gold; she liked it when it was in flakes because it twinkled like stars.

She says that the only reason she didn’t tear Imhotep’s cheating arm off and eat it raw right in front of his Mehen-cheating face as he took his last breath was that he made her laugh.

In those days she was called Anpuhotep, and at that time she could only change her form at the full moon.

And what if both me and my Grandmother sat you down and told you that the wolf that met Little Red Riding Hood wasn’t a wolf in disguise, and that by then Anpuhotep was called Silence Benandanti? And that the girl who made her way through the woods claiming to be her granddaughter to one and all along her way was a monster hunter, and that she didn’t have treats in her basket, but a dagger tipped with poison?

What if we could assure you nobody saved the monster hunter in real life, that in the end some of her was baked into pies that Silence fed to her cats and dogs, and the rest she hacked up and nailed to Red Riding Hood’s door while the other monster hunters that she lived with hid in their attic of their house made of straw and wood that she could have torn it apart with her paws if she had wanted too?

Would you believe us?

You should.

You really should because we may not know where  you live, but we have very big eyes to search for you with and very big teeth and we can smell you from miles away and we hate to be called liars.

 

Werewolf standing beside a decorated Christmas tree in a medieval castle hall

AI Artwork by A.M. Moscoso

Summoning Shadows with AI

Experience Writing Halloween Photo Challenge: Take a picture of a monster

I decided to play with Gemini AI and I created these monstrous images. The process takes getting used to but that’s okay,  liked the results

Vintage carnival booth displaying a mummy in a glass case

The Mummy AI By A.M. Moscoso

Forest trail with sign reading Deep Woods Trail

The Witch In The Woods AI by A.M. Moscoso

Woman in black standing beside a river under a crescent moon

La Llorona AI by A.M. Moscoso

Pale figure emerging from an open coffin in a foggy cemetery

The Ghoul AI A.M. Moscoso

Snarling werewolf-like creature standing beside a moss-covered boulder in a forest

The Werewolf AI A.M Moscoso

Pale man in black coat standing beside covered body in morgue

The Doctor Is Out
“Vampire”
AI A.M Moscoso

Horned winged demon in armor holding a glowing staff before mountains

Cemetery Demon AI by A.M. Moscoso

Today’s Special

Experience Writing Halloween Challenge Flash Fiction Prompt ( Photo at the bottom of this post ):

Photographer:Pam Catcheside – GBIF & Atlas of Living Australia,

The Ghoul Fungus is native to Australia and does not grow anywhere else on Earth. It springs up from the decomposing remains of mammals, reptiles, and birds.

In my searches, I did not  find accounts of the Ghoul Fungus taking root in human remains. There are no stories about hikers finding a rotting human corpse under a tree or wedged between rocks, covered in mushrooms with sticky brown and pink caps and pale pink gills.

The reason no one has seen this—why there are no reports of the Ghoul Fungus turning up anywhere else in the world—is simple.

Maybe once the fungus blooms on the host, it’s gobbled up or taken away to be feasted upon by Wendigos, who probably eat uncooked food as they run and slither through the forest. Or maybe Rakshasas serve the Ghoul Fungus on fine china set upon crisp linen tablecloths in dark and damp dining halls in abandoned tombs and mausoleums.

Ghoul Fungus is not a normal  vegetable  and I don’t think it would be consumed like one.

I believe if you did take a bite, you’d find the Ghoul Fungus squishy, dry and a little crunchy. You may also wonder what pushed you to put something in your mouth called a Ghoul Fungus.

If you come across a patch of ground choking on mushrooms and blobs and gobs of flesh and bones, you may want to reconsider your choice to stand there and wonder at the sight you see—especially if it is around mealtime.

Voyage of Discovery

AI ARTWORK BY
CURSEJOURNEY

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
― Marcel Proust