Sunday 27 April 2014

#HorrorBites Carriage Three

The train arrived on platform five. But despite the overcrowding, coach three remained empty.
   “What’s the deal with that empty coach?” Ryan asked.
   “People disappear.” Ben replied.
   “You believe that?”
   “It’s not a case of believing, it’s just not worth disproving. I mean what if it’s true?”
    “There’s only one way to find out.” The train stopped and Ryan made his way to carriage three, ignoring the pleas of Ben and commuters. He opened the door, peered around the carriage and stepped in, walking along the carriage before slumping into a seat. He laughed and waved at the worried faces staring back at him as they crammed into the rest of the train.
   The train reached it’s destination and passengers disembarked, congregating around coach three.
   “Why doesn’t he get off?” Ben asked.
   “He can’t,” the driver replied. “He belongs to carriage three now.”
   “That’s where you’re wrong,” Ryan bragged. “I’m right here,” he said, grabbing Ben’s blazer. But his hand swiped right through him.
    “What happens now?” Ben asked.
    “By the time the train pulls out, he’ll be gone.”
    “No! I’m here!” Ryan screamed, reaching out to Ben but passing right through him.

Ben watched in silence as Ryan hammered on the train doors, screaming for escape. Tears streamed down his pale face, now contorted with fear as the carriage lights dimmed before plunging the coach into black.
    The lights flickered on. Ryan saw carriage three full of people.
    “You need to get on,” a girl said, standing next to him on the platform. “You need to take your seat.” Ryan looked upon her, confused. “You’re dead Ryan. We’re all dead in carriage three and it’s our job to ride for eternity.”
    “See,” the driver said to Ben. “All gone.”



Thursday 24 April 2014

MWBB In The Dark

The Easter Ball was in full swing when the guests were plunged into darkness.  Those brave enough, stayed on the dance floor as the band slowed down but the majority pooled around the bar where a couple of candles staved off the darkness, as far as knowing what the revellers were drinking. Ellie swayed to the music, enjoying the feel and the space, the freedom darkness brought. 
 She thought she was alone until a hand skimmed down her bare arm. She felt warm breath on her face as an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her in tight, feeling his athletic body against hers. His hand reached for hers; smooth, gentle but firm, clasping Ellie’s as he lead her across the dance floor without protest or question.
    No words were uttered. Even the band seemed to disappear as Ellie sank into the arms of the stranger.  His stubble brushed against her cheek as a finger trailed down her bare back. Shivers of excitement travelled through her body, giving her goosebumps.
   “What’s your name?” Ellie whispered.
    “Shhh,” came the reply as a finger pressed against her lips. Under the blanket of darkness, he stopped whirling her around. They both stood silently, motionless before he cupped Ellie's face in his hands. Her beating heart was the only sound as his lips grazed hers, a barely there touch before caressing her neck. She pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the definition under the silk shirt, moving up to his broad shoulders. Her fingers combed through his thick, soft hair, wondering what colour it was, wondering how he sounded, the colour of his eyes.  
    Darkness brought intimacy in a room filled with people, took away inhibitions and made Ellie feel she was the only woman in the world. Usually, Ellie was the last to be invited to dance, people feeling awkward around her but the darkness put Ellie on the same level. She wished, whilst her stranger held her, the lights would blaze and people would see her, Ellie with this tall, handsome man, hoping he would gaze down upon her with just as much affection as he had shown in darkness.
     “I must go, thanks for the dance,” he said in a deep, brooding voice that Ellie had already imagined.
     “But, I don’t know your name.”
     “You don’t need a name,” he replied, crushing his lips on hers as his arms enveloped her. “I’ll see you soon,” he said.
    “You’ll know it’s me,” he replied. Ellie stood alone. She heard footsteps and chatter around her. Her heart felt heavy. He’d seen her in the cold, naked light and left her.
   “Oh my God! Who was that you were snogging?” Marie’s voice shrilled.
    “You saw?” Ellie asked.
     “Everyone saw! Everyone! He’s the hottest guy here!”
     “You mean he stayed when the lights went up?” Ellie asked.
      “Of course he did! What, you thought he’d take one look at you and run a mile?” Ellie shrugged. “Oh Ellie! When will you learn! You’re blind! Not a monster! He liked you for you not because you can’t see.”
      “Hey,” the deep, brooding voice said, “I noticed you needed a drink before the power cut.” He handed Ellie a flute of champagne, guiding it into her hand.
      “You did?” He reached up her spare hand, pressing it to his face.
       “You have a lovely smile,” Ellie said.
        “So do you Ellie, so do you,”


Tuesday 22 April 2014

Daily Picspiration Stan

This week's story takes inspiration from blossom appearing as Spring takes hold. The story is simply called "Stan". 
It is written as a diary extract from a 14 year old girl, Megan, who is going to France and Belgium to see her Great, Great Granddad's grave for the first time.
I would love to know your thoughts so comments on Daily Picspiration or here are very welcome about Stan or any other story/blog post you have read. x  Click on the link to read. xx

Written for


Monday 21 April 2014

Rebirth Anthology for #J.A.MesPress A Change of Seasons

Here's my story for consideration in the Rebirth anthology run by J. A. Mes Press where all money from sale of book will be going to a Stroke charity in the UK.

Title: A Change of Seasons
Author: Lizzie Koch
Book: Yes
Word count: 1033

A Change of Seasons

Eighteen months ago, Kathy’s world crashed, catching her fiancĂ© with her oldest friend had left her life devoid of meaning except for self loathing and loneliness.

Until Aaron.

Aaron sat in the only empty chair. Kathy continued to stare out the cafe window as he chatted politely, her guarded nature preventing nothing more than a few pleasantries. Then he left, a feather drifting down behind him.

The second time they met was in the street market, buying lemongrass, laughing at their mutual interest but went their separate ways as a white feather fell. The third time wasn’t an accident. Kathy passed the cafe a week later, thinking of Aaron. She wasn’t sure where the thought came from but she found herself sitting in the same spot by the window, watching the door. Aaron walked in, giving her a smile. Kathy smiled back as butterflies danced in her tummy.
   “This is becoming a habit,” he joked. “Aaron.” He held out his hand.
   “Kathy,” she replied, taking his hand; strong, smooth, a little cold but the spring weather was unpredictable.
   “How did the Thai curry go?”
    “I never made it,” Kathy admitted. “It seemed too much fuss for one . . . I don’t know why I told you that.”
    “I’m a good listener,” Aaron replied, staring into her empty eyes, resting his hand on hers. The first intimate touch in months. Kathy liked it. “Actually, I have some lemongrass here. How about I cook you the best Thai curry this side of Bangkok?” Kathy looked into his eyes, overcome with trust. They left the cafe together as a feather drifted down behind them.

The Thai curry was amazing, just like him. Until he walked her home. Disappointment filled Kathy as Aaron didn’t kiss her goodnight, desperately wanting more than a reassuring hand. A feather nestled, unnoticed, on the steps as she walked in.

Kathy spent the next few weeks with Aaron as her mind and body awoke to possibilities of sharing her life again. But Aaron hadn’t touched or kissed her. So, with new found courage, she asked him outright if he liked her.

He responded with lips, caressing her neck, travelling down the V of her dress, his hands teasing open the buttons as her dress slid to the floor. He lingered on her curves, scooping her up in his strong arms, carrying her to his bed, leaving a trail of feathers behind him.

Spring turned to summer. Kathy was a new person. She joined a zumba class, booked a weekend away with friends and enjoyed nights out with them. In fact, she was seeing less and less of Aaron. But Aaron didn’t mind. He only encouraged her as Kathy blossomed, living her life, rather than being a spectator.

Tumbling orange leaves told Aaron autumn was already upon him. He sat in a restaurant, seeing Kathy outside, amid a group, noticing one man unable to lift his gaze from Kathy. It might have been autumn but Kathy was in full bloom.
    “Friends?” Aaron asked as Kathy joined him.
    “People from work,”
    “The tall, dark haired guy?”
    “Ben? He’s new.”
    “He likes you . . . you’re so different now Kathy. Back when we met, no one noticed you . . . you disappeared amongst the crowd . . . but now.”
     “Stop it!”
      “You’re going to have a happy life Kathy. You’re out there on your own. You don’t need me anymore,” he admitted, gently taking her hand.
      “What?” Kathy’s smile dropped.
      “When was the last time we saw each other?” he asked, softly stroking her hand.
      “You said you didn’t mind.”
       “I don’t. I want you to be happy. When I met you, what did you have? Eighteen months of a life going nowhere.”
      “And I suppose you saved me,” Kathy said bitterly.
       “Yes . . . I did . . . now you don’t need me . . . which is good . . . I don’t have long.”
       “What!” Kathy stared at Aaron and for the first time noticed how tired and old he looked. “Who are you?”
      “Do you really want to know?”

Leaving the restaurant, they walked through the park, hand in hand, the crunching of leaves under their feet and a trail of feathers behind.
       “I was sent to save you . . . I’m your guardian angel.” Kathy didn’t laugh or argue. Aaron picked up a white feather. “One of mine,” he said with a smile.
       Kathy noticed the trail, glistening in the moonlight. “I know . . . I think I’ve always known.”
       “And you know I must leave . . . I’m dying. My feathers are like the leaves of autumn. I must go home before my last feather falls.”
       “But . . .”
        “You don’t need me anymore. There’s no room for me which is how its supposed to be.”
        “But I don’t want you to die!”
        “I won’t . . . if I go home.”
         Kathy fell into his arms, holding him tight. “I love you,” she sobbed.
         Aaron kissed the top of his head, her floral scent stronger than any flower in bloom. “It’s time.” He stepped back. A light shrouded him. Kathy saw his face, smiling at her, as his wings spread magnificently behind him. The light vanished and Aaron was gone.

Kathy picked up every feather on her walk back, passing a cocktail bar.
    “Is that your girl?” Zara asked, sitting with Aaron, looking down through the clouds.
    “Yes,” he sighed.
    “Oh look! My boy is running out, calling her,” Zara said. They watched as Ben caught Kathy up.
    “I thought you had a date?” Ben asked.
     “He had to go,” Kathy replied, looking down at the feathers in her arms.
    “Where did those come from?”
    “A parting gift,” she said thoughtfully, watching Ben open up his briefcase.
    “Me too,” he said, showing a handful of feathers. “She got me the job with you, said it would change my life, I’d meet someone, forget all the crap and self destruction.” His eyes locked on to hers.
     “Kiss her already,” Zara moaned. “Why does he hesitate?”
      “There’s no need to rush. Two lost, lonely souls  have found each other. I say out mission was a success. Leave them to it,” Aaron replied.

If Aaron and Zara hung around, they would have seen Ben hold Kathy tight before his lips met hers as soft as the feathers they held between them.




Wednesday 16 April 2014

Horror Bites Perfection

Sally held Baby Doll. “You said you couldn’t get the parts anymore and I should think about buying a new doll. Now, she’s perfect.”
   “I know, someone must’ve found some spares. It’s quite remarkable,”  said Richard, the doctor at the toy hospital, as he admired the doll. “She looks so real, her eyes . . . so familiar . . . lifelike.”  
     The doll stared back, a thin smile spreading across her mouth. Richard blinked. On opening his eyes, the doll now had her usual lifeless stare. “Anyway,” he said thrusting the doll back to Sally, “glad you’re pleased.” He walked away, closing his office door behind him, sitting at his desk. Rubbing tired eyes couldn’t rid the image of the doll.
     The computer screen opened up, drawing Richard’s attention. An image filled the screen; a kitchen, just like his. The same appliances, tiles, paint . . . it was his kitchen, last night. There was his wife, sitting at the table, her dinner untouched that he had cooked before leaving for work. The camera zoomed in, Richard choked. The doll was on the table, blooded scissors in her hands. She looked directly at the screen.
   “You told Sally to buy a new doll!” she spat as she plunged the scissors into his wife’s eye. A piercing shrill filled Richard’s ears as his wife’s eye was ripped from her socket. “ I will not be replaced!” the doll screeched  as she did the same with the other eye. Richard cried. Blood poured down his wife’s face as she sobbed, enveloped in permanent darkness. The doll placed her new blue eyes in her sockets. “Perfect fit!” she hissed. “No one will replace me! I am perfect! Except . . . Sally will love me more if I had . . . a heart!”
    “No!” Richard roared as blood splattered across the screen.



Tuesday 15 April 2014

Mid-Week-Blues-Buster- Left of Center Suzanne Vega

Lipstick Kisses

“Morning gorgeous,” I said, rolling over to find Mia’s side of the bed cold. I never believed in love at first sight until Mia. I thought she felt the same. I noticed a neatly folded piece of paper on the pillow.
   If you want me, you will find me  with a ruby lipstick kiss.
   Screw that! I threw the scrunched up ball across the floor. She knew I hated games. Told her that last night, completely up front and she goes and kicks me in the bollocks. Just because she liked the thrill of the chase.
   I sat in the cafe across the road from the hotel, opening up the menu. A piece of paper fell out.
    If you want me, you will find me, you’ve joined the game with another lipstick kiss was. I looked around but Mia was nowhere. She knew I’d be here, it’s where we met. She wanted me to play, wanted me to find her.
    Finishing my coffee, I jumped on a passing bus, grabbing a window seat but I wasn’t concentrating on the view as Mia’s flirtatious giggle filled my head. I tried to dismiss her but something caught my eye. Ruby red lips! Jumping off the bus, dodging traffic, I ran up to the newsstand where the lipstick kiss was.
      “Have you seen a woman, about this high, wearing a short denim skirt, white top, brown hair, red lips?” All was met with a shake of his head, offering me a magazine or paper. I scanned the racks. The Face! I picked up the top copy. Mia mentioned this, a magazine for aspiring artists.
     “Hey, if you wanna read it, you buy it,” the man said. I handed over a note and walked, flicking through the pages. A piece of paper lay neatly inside.
     I’m glad you want me, you will find me . . . soon and another lipstick kiss.
     I thought back to the conversations, way into the small hours. She said she wanted to be a singer. Did some busking . . . Another bus to Covent Garden. I ran around the bustling market, but only saw living statues. No point asking them. There were no clues. I was sucked into a game I didn’t want to play but now couldn’t leave. There had to be something. She said her favourite drink was a mojito. I looked up and found I was outside Henry’s. I ran in, downstairs (because Mia said she liked to drink downstairs). I opened up a menu. Nothing. Opened another. Nothing.
   “Can I help you?” the Australian barman asked.
    “A girl, Mia, orders mojitos, have you seen her?”  
    “Sure, she used to work here, handed in her notice this morning. Looks like you could use a drink.” Never having drunk a mojito before, I ordered one, flicking through the magazine, stopping at her kiss. I’d wasted the entire morning and now reached a dead end. That’s why I hated games. There was always the chance of losing or never finishing.
     “I don’t suppose she said where she was going?”
    “Na, just said she was going to be a popstar.”
     I looked back at the lip print, gulped down the mojito and left, back out into daylight. It was easy hailing a cab. I looked at the lips again, circling a talent agency for singers. She had to be there. It was a short cab ride. I burst through the doors, met by security. Calmly I asked them about Mia.
     “Are you Elliot?”
     “Yes!” He handed me a note. The note was blank. Not even a kiss. “What? I don’t get it. Isn’t there another note?”
        I sank in the chair, head in hands.
        “If you want me, you will find me,” Mia’s voice sang. I looked up. She stood, grinning flirtatiously at me. “Good song eh? My agent thinks it’ll be a hit. How about you?”
        AT that moment, I didn’t care about the song. All I wanted was to taste those ruby lips once more, hold Mia and would only play another game again if winning was ever this good.


This week's tune is Suzanne Vega Left of Center 

Tuesday 8 April 2014

#HorrorBites Challenge A Bag Of heads

“Weirdo,” was the usual  greeting for Sasha as she walked through the school corridors. All she wanted was for someone to call a best friend. But she was alone.
   Luckily, Sasha found a way to have friends.
   Her dolls.
   They travelled with her everywhere.
    Until the school thug, Tony, decided that today he was going to be extra mean. Not content with kicking Sasha’s bag across the hall, he decided to empty it all over the corridor. Deafening laughter followed as Sasha’s dolls tumbled out for everyone to see. Red with rage, Sasha tried to ignore the laughter as she bent to pick up her dolls but not before Tony picked one up and pulled off the head, copied by Ryan and the rest of the gang until every doll was headless. Ryan threw a head at Sasha as the gang walked off, their laughter echoing in Sasha’s ears.
    “I’m so sorry Michelle,” Sasha said softly to one of her dolls. “I’ll fix this.” She placed the dolls in her bag and left.
     Once home, Sasha fixed up her dolls. 
But the magic had gone.
     The next day in school, the halls were peaceful. Tony wasn’t one to hunt without his pack but Sasha approached him.
    “Fancy kicking my bag around today, decapitating my dolls?” She delved into her bag and pulled out a doll.
     Tony blanched.
     “This is my new doll  . . . Ryan. He makes a fine doll don’t you think? While he’s like this, I can bring him back to life but if you do this,” she pulled off the head. Tony wretched, “he’s always going to be just a doll. Shame, for Ryan . . . and you.” She threw the head back in her bag with the rest of Tony’s gang, biding her time for their leader.