Cryptic Fiction

Welcome to Cryptic Fiction. I created this site because I believe that the art of the story is fading.

For centuries tale-smiths passed down our history and inspired us, creating new worlds that excite our imaginations and explore our humanity.

It's why I write, and I thank you for giving me an opportunity to reach out to you through my first love, the written word.

Cotton Candy

I was terrified! Less than a minute ago I was surrounded by vibrant colors, loud music, and the sounds of the boisterous crowd at the amusement park. I could still smell the funnel-cake, buttery popcorn, triple-cheese-jalapeno-curly fries, and endless fountains of carbonated sugary drinks. And then there was the press of flesh know as humanity which claims its own scent. The mix of perfume and cologne, with a tinge of makeup and sweat wrapped in an aura of joy that approaches an aromatic aphrodisiac. Because no one is unhappy at an amusement park. Not as a rule…

Now there is only silence. It was complete and total in scope, wedged inside a thick fog that framed the trees like a cadre of emaciated matchsticks. The park was abandoned, yet more than that it was old, as if I had jumped hundreds of years into the future. The swings were rusted, and the Ferris wheel sagged like the jowls of an old man. While the merry-go-round along with the wooden roller-coaster were cleaved in two, like the earth itself had given birth to the monstrosity that was now stalking me.

“I’m coming for you!” Howled the shadowy figure behind me. It held the shape of a man but it was not a man. For it did not cast a shadow, and had no features, save an empty blackness that seemed to drink in all light and hope around it.

“I will suck the marrow from your bones and pick my teeth with your ribs, as I peel your skin like the rind of an orange. And you will know all this to be true, for you will be alive when I begin to feast upon you. Do you hear me!”

The sound echoed in the abandoned space, resonating like broken glass and the scream of a banshee. For not even a cricket or a bird was to be heard. No, just the ominous footsteps of the dark shadow stalking me, and my labored breathing as I threw open the doors to the haunted house, running inside as fear crept up my spine and threatened to leave me paralyzed, impotent to the danger I faced.

I turned, falling over the track that once guided the cars. And there, in the darkness, I saw the glimmer of serrated teeth. The devilish smile was brief, as were my screams. I knew that I was going to join the ranks of the dead. And I marveled that the shadow had indeed told the truth, for I was awake as its teeth began to deprive me of my life. And my thoughts were strained—strange and twisted—as my last breaths vacated my lungs a moment before they were ripped out.

“But I forgot my cotton candy…”