...La mort et le bucheron...art by MarcSimonetti...io9 writing prompt...

The woodsman stared at Death for a spell.  Death simply stared back.  Despite being a collection of bones and rags, lacking a tongue and any flesh all together, Luthric could read his movements as if he were speaking, You summoned me.  Its tone was nonplussed.  The woodsman could make out that he was wasting his time.  A bout of consumption was making the rounds in Castle Arthrias and the courts nearest its high walls.  Serves them right.  He grimaced for a second, his right eye a flash of temper.  He stocked it away when he realized that Death couldn't make the distinction - the hatred was in his heart.  But here Death was and he would rather die than be wrong.

"I summoned you, that is true.  Yet, you did not have to come to me.  Figuring you are a busy man in high esteem in your world and all afraid of you in this one, I'm thinking you're wasting my time.  At least both of our times, then."

Death broke the intent of his gaze, appeared confused, looking over Luthric at the woodpile, somewhere the light fell into the endless shadow of his sockets.  His head cocked and straightened up to his full height, You...you mean to say that you called me and I'm wasting your time?

Indeed did Luthric mean it: somewhere in the peanut that was his brain, he absolutely believed, to the core of his being that his time was being wasted, "I called you when the wood shifted from my shoulders, I called you when I needed you to help set it aright.  You did not come.  You came after the load fell.  What good does it do me then?"  He waved his hand at the mess.  "You understand how long it takes to set a load and to get it half-way home.  It will take the same time to load it again.  I don't need you now, you may go."  He waved his hand again, this time at the tattered robes of Death.

The latter could not take it anymore.  He rose even higher, as if he was holding some of his power back.  He appeared to grow girth where he did not have it before.  Even his scythe seem to thicken.  His skull, devoid of the emotion of men, took on the colour of anger at least.  He stabbed the staff into the earth and the entire forest shook.  Animals broke from the thickets and the birds from their branches.  Luthric couldn't but shield his head with his arms.

"What's all that for, man?"

I am no man, Luthric Selrach of Arthrias.  I AM DEATH.

"Aye, I know.  I figured by yer wont that you are who you say: bones and all that guff.  And yes I'm of the guild Selrach, but don't say'n that I come from Arthrias."  He spat.  "I don't hold no cause for that town that disdained me."

Listen...

Luthric turned his crooked back and sighed, "Nay, you'd not understand.  I'm a woodsman that no one even knows is here.  I could have died there, that's why I may," he turned and gave Death his right eye, "...may have called upon you in a moment's whim."

Death sighed and seemed to understand Luthric.  He nodded his staff to the lot of wood.  "You're going to help me?  After I've wasted your precious time."

Death sighed once more and rolled his head.  He nodded again to the wood.  Luthric staggered over to it and bent over, awaiting the load.  The shrouded figure hovered toward him and made motions with his hands.

"I'd thank you, but I could have done this myself, you know."  He scowled with the self-satisfaction that all boors hold for themselves when they believe they've gotten over on someone.  Luthric Selrach of Loneliness, I never came here to take you away.

"Yer damn sure of that."  Luthric scowled and waited under the load that slowly fell upon him.  He grabbed out to both ropes that evened its load across his back.  His knees bent with it.  His knees bent even more.  Then Death let the load go.  Luthric felt his back's bones crack under the weight.  The load was made more by thrice.  It's as if he took an entire old beech and laid it across his back.  He saw Death float away from him, ne'er turning back once.  Luthric stumbled forward with the weight: it wouldn't matter which way he leaned, the load was perfectly upon him to crush him if he let it out.  He would die soon.

Death turned and began to fade away.  If a skull could wink, Luthric felt this one would.

La mort et le bucheron by MarcSimonetti on DeviantArt

...Five Pop Horror Short Story Anthologies I Tripped Over as a Child...

Where I survey collections of short stories and drift from the overly popular...

I dug deep into the way back machine for horror books that I read as a child.  I read everything.  Horror really had no particular appeal to me, as it was, and still is, not my schtick.  What did intrigue me with horror, and why I returned time and again, was the thrill of the craft.  Horror, as a genre, has to find that fine line between reality and insanity.  Too often do authors slip into the latter, borrowing little from the former, and you end up with a mess that cannot pretend to keep you interested.  But when it's good - it's thrilling.

The first foray that I remember was drifting from paranormal books, which is a natural interest, then lapsing into horror via mystery.  The first mystery stories I read in grade school were the ones that centered around a picture, then you had to figure out who the culprit was based on the combination of the graphic and the prompt.  It was a back door into a reading comprehension quiz.  But, not being a gifted problem solver, really, I appreciated the lengths of logic that threaded out to arrive at the resolution.

Before I could buy my own books, I had to find them at garage sales with my mother, or, if I was with my dad for a weekend, it would be at the used book shops near Huntington Beach.  There I discovered Alfred Hitchcock, before I had ever seen a movie or TV show, with his anthology series.  The most memorable was "Haunted Houseful".  There was also "Ghostly Gallery".  continued below...

Even in death you would have to imagine Alfred trying to
scare people as much as possible.

Short stories was a normal route for
early King.

Years later, while in the Army, I turned to Stephen King books, more than likely because the small library we had in the Menden (Germany) barracks, which was nothing more than a large room in the attic of the building, had very few popular fiction choices but King.  Luckily, I read Misery first, then moved on to his master work, The Shining.  Both were tremendous reads, but, I think many of us would easily consider Shining such an artful balance of character, pacing and story.  I read it twice while on a 'field problem' - where we had to spend at least a week or two in the field simulating a war exercise.  One night was particularly eerie while trying to get through it, as a wind storm blew through an old farmhouse we were sleeping in.  The attic was well over two hundred years old and full of dust.  Its dark corners wouldn't lighten up even in the day.

From there, and the purpose of this post was short story, so Different Seasons.  King's short stories are a hoot and, in his style, very quick and enjoyable.

Post-Army, when I could start buying my own books, I got into Clive Barker's shorts including In the Flesh.  Barker is much more of a sadist than King, infusing his stories to cringe-inducing effects.  However, it's when he lapses into the more subtle forms of horror do we feel that he understands this world very well.

In The Further Adventures of the Joker, which was a cross-over for me, as comics were a hot commodity from '88 through '95, of moving from graphic renditions of the Batman and Joker and to the written rendition.  Of note was a particular story where, as the Joker was a child, he would lure kids into the forest and leave them dying in a water tower.  Creepy stuff.

Lastly, and fairly recent, was an anthology of stories as part of The Twilight Zone.  These original stories were in the spirit of what Serling did best: stories that are in the transcendent, rarefied air.  Since I couldn't get enough Zone on television and probably watched each episode at least five times each, this anthology gave me 18 new stories to cull over.  Interesting take away wasn't so much the stories, but the forward.  It gives a brief story about Serling's Korean War experience that probably set the tone for his take on storytelling.  Fascinating stuff.  What will you read yourself this Halloween?

..."The Most": A Cavalcade of Ingenious Halloween Candy '13...

What can be said about the joyous cacophony of colored treats that is Halloween?  It brings back memories of what was possible as we would go around a gaggle of stranger's houses doing exactly that which were told explicitly not to do.  In fact, unheard of today, is that one of my favorite scores on Halloween was this older lady that lived on Aristocrat Street in Garden Grove.  For at least the two times I was able to hit my best friend's street, she'd have freshly made caramel balls.  I mean, fresh: dripping with caramel and butter and a wee bit of salt, they would spot mark the paper bags they came in.  And, get this, she would complain that kid's didn't like it.  Didn't like it?!  I can still taste them in my mind today.  She didn't know that she was a queen among dross.  That thing was gone by the end of the walk, including my little buddies that didn't know heaven in a paper bag.  That doesn't sound right, does it?

Here's candy that I try to round out each year with my boys: interactive candy is the bestest.  Yes Virginia - each picture links to where you can order!  HTMLroolz<<<!

Oriental Trading's Interlocking Skeleton Candy
Not always anatomically correct, but fine trying

Oriental Trading's Realistic Gummy Earth Worms
Sprinkle in some Oreo cookies for 'dirt'

Groovy Candy selling Ghost Peeps
Saw one site have these on a stick and choco-dipped

Groovy Candy selling Round Up Candy Cigarettes
There's a time when smoking was cool - oh, yeah now

Tower of Sour's Urine Sample
*tss tss whatever urine to - get it? 

Candy Warehouse's Giant Gummy Skull ~ >$50Perverse eating, my teeth are ready

Lik-m-aid's Fun Dip - got one on a Halloween, once.
They really ought to go back to this packaging - how else
did you know the flavor?

Chocodiles, but not necessary Hostess'
Oh man were these the bomba back in '81

See's Candies Orange Krispys
Showing some love for my peeps at See's

Starburst Fruit Flavored Candy Corn
I'm thinking I can hit the entire bag

Hershey Reese's Peanut Butter Pumpkin
The schools would go nuts if this made it's
way on campus - call the National Guard

Jelly Belly's Gummy Rat
The boys got one from Michael's the other
day, they love animals