Twin rage

It was the early 1980s when Zoe and Neil met. Zoe was just seventeen and training to be a hairdresser, not that she was any good at it. Neil was nearly nineteen and not doing much with his life. It was love at first sight, they dated for a year and then they were engaged.

By this time Neil was working as a bricklayer, self-taught but doing well and Zoe was pregnant. The young couple were very happy with the news and began to plan for the newborn and wedding to follow. Seven months passed and all seemed well, they left the sex of the baby as a surprise and picked a couple of boys and girls names.

Then Zoe became sick so they rushed to the hospital and were quickly told that they may lose the baby. They both wept and pleaded with the doctors to help. The doctor suggested a cesarean section but there were still risks “I don’t care” pleaded Zoe “just do it”.  Neil stood quiet but shaking as they wheeled Zoe away.

Two hours later the doctor came to see Neil “Sir I’m sorry to tell you but your wife died due to complications”.
Neil screamed and fell to his knees “No No No” he sobbed.
The doctor touched him on the shoulder and said “sir the babies survived”.
“Babies?” Neil said with a confused look.
“Yes” replied the doctor “twin girls”.
“But the scans only showed one” bumbled Neil.
“We believe one was in front of the other so only one could be seen” explained the doctor.

Neil slowly got to his feet and asked to see the girls, both were small but beautiful. He stood over them and pointing to the girl on the left he said “you will be called Zoe after your mother” then looking to the second baby “and you, Zara as your mother chose”. Neil then went to see his wife laid lifeless and once again began to weep “how will I cope without you my love?” He cried and sat for an hour before being told he had to leave. Two days later Neil took his daughters home and settled them in. slowly showing them photos of their mother every day putting on a brave face.

PicsArt_1428242354470Beneath the surface Neil was crumbling, depression was starting to take hold. The girls wouldn’t stop crying, a constant battle and he began to blame them for the death of his wife. When the girls were nearly four Neil finally broke, grabbing Zoe and Zara shaking them violently he screamed “it’s your fault. You killed your mother!” The girls cried louder and louder, Neil threw them to the ground, lit a cigarette and began to burn each of them “now you can feel pain like I do” he grimaced. The girls screamed as their skin bubbled and bled a little. Each week Neil would take the girls into the bathroom and burn them slowly. After about two years the girls began to fight back “daddy you can’t hurt us any more” they whispered at him, which threw him into a rage “you fucking think so hey?” He then ran boiling hot water into the bath and made them stand in it, the girls once more began to wail in pain “stop your fucking crying” he shouted. He continued this for about a year, the girls didn’t go to school so no one noticed the scars on their bodies and their painful red feet.

Neil by now had become psychotic and grabbed the girls “I’m sick of the whining and tears you little bitches!” They stood in fear as he cut the skin from their backs – about three inches in length and one inch wide. “Daddy what are you doing? what did we do?” screamed the girls. “Shut it” Neil replied. After he’d cut the two pieces of skin from their backs he grabbed Zara and sewed the flaps of skin to her eyelids then grabbed Zoe and sewed the other end to hers “now you can share each others tears” laughing menacingly. The girls had to go everywhere with each other now they were sewn together and the pain was unbearable at times, but they had no more abuse from their father. Every night the girls cried but the tears stung as they filled the tunnel of skin connecting their faces. On the girls’ ninth birthday Neil locked them in the bathroom, went downstairs and began to drink heavily. “Nine years today those little bitches took you from me” he slurred at a photo of his wife Zoe, more and more he drank until he finally stumbled upstairs to bed.

The girls heard him and shouted “can we come out now daddy?” “No shut the fuck up” he mumbled. At around 2am Neil was woken by singing “what the?” he said trying to see, covering his eyes from the light that shone in through the door. The girls had managed to get out of the PicsArt_1428242288860bathroom and stood and the end of his bed. “You can’t hurt us any more you are weak you are a bore” they sang still facing each other. “Get out or else” he shouted. The girls slowly turned to face him, ripping the skin from their eyes, blood began to run down their cheeks and a booming voice came from their lungs “NOOOO! ” Neil shot back and sat up straight, the girls had black holes where their eyes used to be. Neil, shaking said  “no-no, I’m sorry. Forgive me.” “You’re going to die tonight we’re going to take your life” the girls sang and climbed onto the foot of the bed. Neil tried to scramble backwards getting nowhere. They grabbed him, pulled him down and sat on top of his chest. Neil froze as one of the girls, Zara, revealed a knife which she had stolen from the kitchen and began to carve at his skin. Zoe began to laugh hysterically, lunging forward biting at his face, the girls seemed possessed. Through the night they carried on cutting and biting until he laid dead in blood soaked sheets and light started to peep through the curtains as day broke. Slowly Zoe and Zara climbed down from the bed looked at each other and said “we’re safe now let’s go home to mummy.” The sisters picked up two belts from their fathers drawers and walked back to the bathroom, standing on a chair they wrapped them round the shower rail and stood side by side holding hands. “I love you” said Zoe to Zara “I love you too” replied Zara and then they both jumped hanging until they stopped breathing and twitching.

All the bodies were found two weeks later by a neighbour, after mail and milk had been piling up. The police ruled Neil had killed himself after hanging the girls. The truth of what happened behind those doors was never discovered.


Written by David Duke of ©Horrorsquadww

Images by the awesome ©Darkarctictattoo


Ruby’s ghost

Scarlet was an ordinary 20-something year old woman living with her father, close to the sea. Her father was only just coping with the disappearance of her mother. Ruby was her mother’s name, as in the gem, she always wore a ruby necklace that Scarlet had given her as a mother’s day gift.

Ruby had gone for groceries one day and never returned, one year and still there was no sign of her. Scarlet carried on with her day-to-day life. She tried to support her father as much, as she dare, as he was becoming more withdrawn and angry every day.

Scarlet’s boyfriend John had called:


“Yes” she replied. 

” I cant do this anymore.”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Be with you. I’m sorry but its over, all your time is spent picking up your father. I’m sorry goodbye”

Scarlet screamed at the phone “fuck you then” as she began to cry. She threw on a jacket and ran out the door, down to the beach kicking stones and looking up at the sky asking her mum for help “where are you mum? what do i do?” Her walk along the beach led her to an old shack on the shore, dead birds laid all around it each one covered in ants and an unbearable smell hung in the air. She covered her mouth with her hand and moved closer to the window trying to see what was inside “hello” she shouted as she moved to the door. Knock knock “hello” she shouted, again there was no answer.

Slowly she pushed the door, dust blew at her face and into her eyes. She heard a sound “hello?” she said again, but still there was no answer. she walked further into the shack, into a small room at the back. She gasped, there laid a body; maggots emerging from the sockets of its eyes, dried blood stains round its neck highlighted the deep cut that laid it to rest.

Slam went the door, a voice boomed “you shouldn’t of come here.”

Scarlet shouted “dad!” her voice filled with fear and shock “what the hell?”  

“She didn’t love me”  her father replied.

Looking at the body scarlet noticed the necklace, a ruby, “noooo” she cried, as she tried to run. Her father grabbed her hair “bitch, you’re not going anywhere” he mumbled, his hands tangled in her hair. She pulled so hard that hair and skin left her scalp, blood running down her neck. She broke free leaving her hair dangling in his hands, dizzy she stumbled for the door. She felt a dull pain in her spine, it was a shard of wood “like I said – you’re not going anywhere” her father uttered “you’re home now, we’re a family again!”

He laid her next to her mother and sat by her side stroking  her hair and humming a nursery rhyme as scarlet slowly bled, losing consciousness, the necklace from around her mothers neck began to shine and her mother’s voice called; “leave my baby alone!” The shack began to  burn “no, leave me alone” Scarlet’s father cried as he tried to run and escape, but his skin began to bubble with the heat, his hair burning from his scalp. Falling to his knees flesh sticking to the floor “you’re the one that’s leaving. FOR HELL” shrieked Ruby.

After the flames had died Scarlet’s body, untouched by the fire, was laid next to the water. People surrounded her calling for help, a ruby necklace around her neck glinted in the sun.

Was she dead ?


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Copyright ©Duke #horrorsquadww 2014


From the dark alleys came the sounds of cracking bones and muffled screams. With the echoes getting louder and closer the skies turned from black to red and drops of blood began to fall faster and faster. It poured, clothes turning deep red, is this the end? As the clothes dripped with blood the sound of groans from demons grew louder, as they smelled every last drop and began to kill the living. Screams filled the air, as flesh was torn from bones; limbs were cast along the once clear pavements, the odd eyeball still twitching. Black hounds with glowing red eyes and saliva dripping fangs could be seen diving in and out of the shadows, taking children from the streets. Car alarms going off, glass scattered on the roads, people running trying to find anywhere to hide. But the blood was like a beacon in the demons eyes, murder, fear, darkness. No light to be seen, no places to hide, throats slit and bodies dragged down to hell. The words HELP ME left written in remains.

bloody diary


What you’re about to read is the last entry into the diary of Duncan Hall, supernatural hunter:

23 April 1989 – Day 45

I’ve been following this cruel figure for 45 days now, watching it take its human prey. I call it heartless chameleon, because of the way it only seems to desire the hearts of its targets and it seems to just appear and disappear, seamlessly blending in with its surroundings. Unable to help any of the victims, I’ve been trying to figure out how to stop this monster, unfortunately to no avail.

Tonight I followed a young woman, the type I think he would go for. She stopped to light a cigarette, the slow glow of orange lighting up her face. Then a shadow that seemed to just glide along the wall – no body to cast it, followed her for about ten feet. Suddenly it morphed from the wall; its hand wrapped over her mouth, so no screams could be heard and with a twist of her neck she was down laid on the ground. I looked on as it began to strip off her coat and blouse, then pushing its hand through her rib cage, standing over her body with its claws in her chest. It tilted its head back, its jaw cracking, the sound echoing off the walls as it opened wider and wider. Slowly it raised its arm and the still warm, blood soaked, heart was dropped into its mouth still whole. Shuffling to get a better view I knocked over a milk bottle; it stared in my direction, I ducked down, shaking and praying it wouldn’t find me. I began to crawl away, after a few feet I looked back and it was gone. I made my way back to my apartment where I started this entry but something’s not right, the walls look different, pictures on the walls obscure.

I see it……

This was the last entry in this blood soaked diary and to this date Duncan Hall has never been found.

Copyright ©#horrorsquadww 2013


I always had dark thoughts when I was a young boy, my world always seemed thick with black. As I grew older killing insects was a thrill; I would pull them apart and listen to the little sounds they made, almost like screams, my mind was curious. Things had become cloudy again when I met Megan. A lovely woman who would talk to me for hours and seemed to lift the fog that lurked in my head. I liked her a lot and became very attached to her.

I watched her silky skin as she made drinks for us one day, Megan asked if I could help hang a mirror on her bedroom wall “Of course” I replied. As we entered the bedroom I saw a picture of lions tearing antelope apart and then, suddenly, waves of rage entered my head. I swung the hammer I was holding, hitting Megan on the back of the head again and again, I couldn’t stop. Eventually I dropped the hammer and looked at what I had done, still my mind was intrigued. I grabbed her legs and began to take her downstairs her head bounced making a thud as I dragged her body down each step leaving a bloody line behind us. I took her to the kitchen, a knife in my mind, but I remembered the insects. I began to peel her skin with my bare hands, slowly peeling the flesh piece by piece, blood covered my hands and the scent of her still warm flesh began to make my mouth water. Sat hunched over like a starved zombie I began to bite through the chewy veins and tendons savoring her divine muscle, like a rare steak euphoria setting in.

I sat back and caught my reflection in a pane of glass on the door, blood all over my hands and face, a smile emerged. I knew then in that moment what I had done.

I was a killer and there would be more, as the fog clouded my mind once more.

Copyright ©#horrorsquadww 2013


It was early morning when Kate received a phone call from her lover, Tom. When she answered he sounded distressed, breathing heavily. “What’s the matter?” Kate asked. “I’m in trouble,” he mumbled “I need to see you tonight.” “Ok, but you’re scaring me.” Kate replied. The phone crackled and went dead. “TOM! TOM!” she shouted but there was no answer.

Kate waited all day. The weather was getting worse and she was starting to worry. Rain started to pound on the windows and the power went out. After lighting some candles, Kate sat in the chair by the fire as the broken shutters rattled against the windows. The noise became so intense she covered her ears with her hands. She watched the shadows dance as she waited for her love. She grabbed for the phone, her hands turning white. The air turned cold and the candles went out. A tapping on the window between the clatter of the shutters caught Kate’s attention. She went to the window and pulled back the curtains. There stood a dark figure moving closer, getting bigger.


The face of a clown came into view. It breathed on the glass and wrote, Your soul belongs to me. Quickly she shut the curtains, ran and hid quietly. She breathed, frozen with fear in the darkened room. Hearing the door close, she expected it to be her lover. “TOM!” she cried, “I’m in here!” A voice replied, “It’s ok, my love, I’m here now.” Kate sighed in relief and sat back in her chair by the fire as she felt hands touching her shoulders and caressing her neck. “Kiss me,” she said, but there was no reply. Then a hand wrapped around her neck, began to squeeze. She cried out, tried to shout but was unable to catch her breath.

The clown figure appeared, with sharp teeth and bad breath. Laughing loudly, he placed a blade on her thigh. “Why?” She barely gets the word out. He simply replied with, “Tonight bitch you’re gonna die.” The painted monster grabbed the blade, which glinted in the moonlight. He began to sever Kate’s throat. As she struggled blood began to cover the chair where she sat. There was a gurgling sound as she took her last breath.

Just as the clown was about to cut Kate’s scalp, he heard the door open. “KATE! KATE! I’m here!” shouted Tom. The clown quickly sat Kate upright in the chair and disappeared into the shadows as Tom walked into the room. He whispered, “Kate, are you asleep?” As he got closer, he touched her shoulder and her body slumped onto the floor.

Screaming her name, he cried, “Who did this? Help! Help!” As he reached for his phone, he heard a voice say, “Hello.” “Who’s there?” Tom asked. “I’m your nightmare,” the clown said. “Stop fucking around! Who’s there?” Tom shouted moving closer to the shadow in the corner. Then suddenly Tom felt a sharp pain in his back. His body started to shudder.  “Now you can join your little bitch” said the clown, dragging his knife all the way up Tom’s spine, splitting his carcass in two. His body fell to the floor.

The clown moved closer to this line and said, “Whoever’s reading this is next.”

Copyright © #horrorsquadww 2013


On a rainy night Rachel stands at a bus stop waiting for the next bus, when a stranger stood beside her and asks “What time is it?” Rachel replies, “Eleven”, slightly blushing as he was quite attractive, “When’s the next bus?” she continues. “Not for another thirty minutes, would you like to take a walk with me?” he responds. Rachel thinks for a moment “Sure, I only live ten minutes away.”

So they set off talking and giggling, as they approached Rachel’s house, both soaked through from the rain, the stranger accepts her invitation to come in for coffee and to dry off. When in the kitchen Rachel takes off her top and puts the kettle on. As she turns to put a dry top on he grabs her by the throat, smashing her head on the table. He moves in close, his lips and hers nearly touching, with a blade pressed against her chest. She feels the pulse pumping in her neck, slowly he pushes the blade; tearing her skin, she bites her lip, grips a chair, trying to keep the screams in. Her eyes blurry, a tear starts to form and he catches it with his tongue. Dragging her from the chair through to the bedroom, he ties her half-naked body to the bed kneeling over her. He grabs her petite jaw, pulling her mouth open and begins to pour hot wax down her throat from the candles in the room. As she gurgles in pain he pours more, then puts out the flames on her bare skin.

As the burns on her skin start to sear she lay slowly dying, shedding another a tear. He leans in closer bodies touching, he whispers in her ear “love is pain” and takes the blade, digging it in again, and again. Covered in blood he kisses her on the lips, stands and quickly leaves, back to the bus stop – to wait for another victim.


In an old abandoned house, or so people thought, something beyond this world lived, in the form of a young girl. She sits rocking in a small chair, ragged, bloody, bare in her hands. Slight moonlight through the window, shadows dancing on the wall, as the shadows danced blood dripped from the walls spelling out words of evil.

A young man called Steve, a paranormal expert, was curious about the house had gone to investigate some of the things that had been said. Placing his hand on the door handle he began to shiver and as the door opened he saw the girl. Slowly her head turned and those black eyes burned, and as those black eyes burned, like hell itself, the room became cold and began to shake paralysing Steve in the doorway, squeezing the life from his body. Holding his throat trying to breathe. The girl stood and started to walk towards him all the while eyes burning brighter, the closer she got the pressure on Steve’s body got greater, his eyes and ears now starting to bleed, skin starting to burn as his blood boiled beneath. The girl stopped just two feet from his slowly dying body she knelt down in front of him clutching a teddy bear and began to hum a sinister tune. All Steve could do was squirm in pain as she hummed the tune over and over again then, slowly he took his last breath, as the little girl took him to his death.

To this day Steve’s body has never been found and nobody ever goes back to the house, but on the eve of the full moon if you listen closely as you pass you can hear the tune floating in the air.