Goretober 2021

The following is a series of short stories written over the month of October 2021 based on a list of prompts made by DeviantArt user crisis-arts. These stories include very graphic descriptions and may not be appropriate for young or easily disturbed audiences.

  1. Stabbed
  2. Fungi
  3. Pins
  4. On a platter
  5. Bites
  6. Cannibalism
  7. Candy gore
  8. Glitch
  9. Insects
  10. Burning
  11. Experiment
  12. Parasite
  13. Crystals
  14. Decapitation
  15. Shattered
  16. Plants
  17. Nosebleed
  18. Neon gore
  19. Transformation
  20. Poisoned
  21. Hanahaki disease
  22. Amputation
  23. Stitches
  24. Freakshow
  25. Melting
  26. Possession
  27. Bandages
  28. Impaled
  29. Bisection
  30. Bruises
  31. Bones


The music was loud in the nightclub. Verbose exchanges had long drowned under the alcohol and synthesized brass. Mischievous teens threw jabs at their friends throwing up. Canines shone under the UV lamps, outlining the batty nature of the crowd.

The music was loud in the streets. It could be heard even from under the station’s floodlights, where wanderers stopped to catch their breath and nicotine. The waves followed like predators the ones seeking shelter from their migraine. It is there, in a pool of sawtooth and blood, that they found his body.

Although the pain muffled the melody, he could still feel the synth through the makeshift blade. A stab on every bar. The mercilessness of the sharp notes as the key opened his thorax, guitar shreds pouring his blood under the neon lights.

A siren emerged from the darkness, but the Eurobeat kept playing as a police car drifted towards the castaway’s wet corpse.


She scrubbed some gunk out of the corner of her eye and looked at her smartphone. 2PM. She’d overslept again, not that it mattered much. Saturdays are supposed to be days off, right? She pretended to laugh at her own joke then got out of bed, coughing a little to clear her throat.

She dragged her body to the bathroom, lifting her feet only to avoid stepping on the clothes scattered about. She sat down on the toilet, careful not to displace its broken plastic seat. While waiting for her sphincters to relax, she inspected her toes. The skin between some of them had peeled off, but the ointment she’d been applying seemed to be doing its thing. She emptied her bowels while counting the black stains on the ceiling, then flushed the toilet. She looked at the mirror. Her reflection glared back, its right eye bloated from infection, again. She let out a sigh and washed her hands, paying little attention to the algae in the sink.

She dislodged a plate from the pile of dirty dishes melded with the kitchen table, then grabbed a barely moldy sponge by the sink. She applied soap to the plate, then proceeded to scrub the mycelium off the ceramic. She rinsed it in a hurry, then took a slice of monday’s pizza from the fridge. She walked up to her desk. As she let herself fall into her seat, the cushiony chair spread dust into the air like a puffball.

She took a bite. The pizza was cold and chewy and just how she liked it. With extra mushrooms.


Claire peeked into the hallway one more time. She’d spent the whole week preparing for this but was now having second thoughts. What if someone caught her? She didn’t really feel guilty about it, but others had been suspended for lesser offenses. The elf adjusted her invisibility cloak and stepped back into the room. Truth be told, the risks made the adventure that much more exciting.

She walked straight to her friend’s bed, for she already knew where to look. From under it, she pulled a rigid suitcase decorated with simple runes. This was amateur work, but probably the best a second-year student could afford. Especially after spending a little fortune on its contents. Claire took out her wand and bypassed the magical seal without saying a word. Inside the box layed a simple linen doll and a magical mirror, the kind used by lovers to see each other over long distances.

Despite what the mundane folk seemed to believe, so-called voodoo dolls were rarely used with bad intent. One could easily track the curse back to the puppeteer. Besides, such enchantments could only transmit sensations, not cause actual harm. No, the true potential of these effigies lied elsewhere. After all, what could be more romantic than offering someone a doll bound to yourself? It was the ultimate proof of trust! Knowing Mel, this doll could belong to pretty much anyone. Claire’s friend was somewhat known for being generous in her affections.

The witch took a square of red silk from her bag and unfurled it on the floor besides the bed. The cloth was marked with complex patterns that had surely taken hours to transcribe. She then used her wand to lift the doll without laying a hand on it, carefully placing it on the piece of fabric. With the claw of her right thumb, she pierced the palm of her other hand and let a few drops of blood fall on the puppet. It was too late to go back now.

With barely contained anxiety, she pointed her wand at the doll and spoke the formula she’d memorized: mi wile pilin e pilin sina a! tenpo kama la ilo ni li ilo pi mi tu. She held her breath, fearing the worse, until she noticed that the blood had vanished from the linen.

Did it work? There was only one way to find out. With hesitation, Claire poked the doll with the tip of her finger. She squeaked in surprise as she felt something prod her chest. That doll was way more sensitive than she’d expected! Let’s hope Mel’s partner didn’t feel that, whoever they are. Claire used another levitation spell to delicately put the doll back where it belonged. She was about to get up and leave when she heard footsteps down the hallway.


False alarm. The sounds were moving away. With a sigh of relief, Claire swiftly fled the scene, certain that she’d left no proof of her mischief behind.

The anticipation kept Claire awake at night. She was startled by any unexpected sensation on her skin, be it the tickle of a soft blanket or the goosebumps brought by autumnal nights. Surely Mel will use it soon, she kept thinking. It’s only a matter of time before I feel her grab that doll. Her imagination was running wild, especially whenever they’d exchange kinky jokes and Mel would brag about her sins. She’s clearly into some freaky stuff. She’s bound to do something with it soon. But the evenings came and went without any noteworthy event. Claire’d even gone back to poke the doll once more and make sure the spell was still active. Everything was working like it should, Mel simply hadn’t touched the doll.

Were Mel’s jokes really just that, jokes? Did she actually have a boring intimate life? Or was the doll given to her by a prude lover? That would make Claire the bigger sinner, not only projecting her own lust on her friend but going as far as to invade her privacy with a spell. Yes, she had gone too far. She had to undo it.

But the next time she went to her friend’s room, Claire was surprised by what she found. Under the bed were now two boxes, the new one sealed with a much more potent hex. And in the one which previously held the doll, there was now nothing but scraps of cloth and sowing needles.

Claire was about to snuff her bedside candle when she felt a sudden pain in her breast. Something was pinching her right nipple! Could it be? Arousal sent shivers through her whole body. She smiled, but only for an instant.

Mere seconds went by before the elf felt another, deeper jab, this time in the middle of her chest. Claire tried to scream but the pain had cut her breath short. She recognized the coldness of metal as something made its way through her thorax, rubbing against her bones. Claire opened her mouth and eyes wide as she fell on her back, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

Mel, you monster. The pain moved to the left side of her body. She felt something come out of her chest and through her abdomen, out of her hip and through her thigh. Her body twisted in agony, Claire reflexively clawed at her leg to pull the metal out of it. All her fingers met was her own intact flesh.

In her bedroom, Mel was enjoying some much deserved time off. After spending the whole month studying, she could finally get back to her pet project. There, all done. On her desk was the linen doll, with a black dress fleshly sown onto it.

Mel frowned. Something seemed off about it. I might have been a bit modest in the chest area. It doesn’t look like her. She considered for a moment spying on her friend through her magical mirror. Better not. At this time of the day, she might not even be dressed. No, Mel would have to work without a visual aid for now. Resigned, she took a pair of scissors from her sewing kit and went back to work.

On a platter

The Mausoleum Café

On the week of October 4th, enjoy a menu with a unique assortment of international flavours.


  • Chausson au boudin
    • apple
    • cranberry
  • Manmade bread
    • cultured butter
  • Lentil soup
    • marrow
    • tomato
    • celery

Main dish

  • Tartar
    • lemon
    • olive
    • fiddlehead
  • Steak
    • parsnip
    • shallot gremolata
    • horseradish
  • Transylvanian shakshouka
    • peperoncino
    • placenta
    • parmesan


  • Lady fingers
    • chocolate
    • berry sorbet
  • Red velvet
    • chocolate
    • tallow
  • Faisselle
    • apricot
    • pistachio
    • cerebrospinal coulis
Our meals are 100% garlic-free. Please warn the chef about any other food allergies.

More short stories will come later!