The coffin rested on dour shoulders as the pallbearers marched forward. Hilda opened the door and bowed her head. She couldn’t form any words. Her fingers shook as she pointed towards the kitchen. The sounds issuing from within left no need for explanation.
Samantha sat crouched in a corner, studying her reflection in a collection of stainless steel pans. Every ten seconds or so she let out a pitiful howl then smashed a pan against the floor, the wall or her head. Dirt collected beneath her fingernails and a worm wriggled within her auburn fringe. It seemed trapped. Embalming fluid leaked from her nose and eyes.
As the men placed the glass coffin down on linoleum, Hilda sank into a chair. In the photograph above the television, her daughter grinned.
Grief knotted tight in her chest. The thing in the kitchen was someone else, not her daughter, not her Sam. She dabbed at fresh tears and formed a cement wall of denial between her eyes and her brain.
No, it was not Sam.
Though dressed in the requisite black, the pallbearers’ suits were made of rubber. Samantha lashed out at the men as they grabbed her brittle arms. Her screams spat and howled, and her legs kicked out as the men dragged her towards the coffin.
Hilda switched on the television to drown out the noise. The news was on. The news was always on.
“Inside the facility,” a reporter wiped sweat from her brow as heat blistered her skin, “there are seven thousand coffins.”
The tickertape, which ran along the bottom of the screen, agreed with the count. Scientists were studying the reactions of the dead via various inhumane methods. Regret seeped into her bones; Hilda did not allow it to take purchase.
“Ma’am,” a voice penetrated her wall. “Your daughter is ready to go.”
“It’s not my daughter.”
Within the coffin, Samantha’s fingers tore down her face and left deep welts in pallid skin. The worm freed itself from her hair, slithered down towards her screaming lips.
Hilda closed the door and pressed her back against the wood.
A pallbearer’s voice stole through the letterbox. “Not exactly Snow White, is she?”
Catherine J Gardner’s fiction has appeared in various anthologies and magazines, dating back to the dark ages of the 1990s. She resides at “The Poisoned Apple” which can be found at http://fright-fest.blogspot.com and she hopes you’ll pop on by for a visit.
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49 Responses to “BURYING SAM • by Catherine J Gardner”
Comments
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June 5th, 2008 at 1:11 am
Ouch! That was creey, Catherine, and I say that with all due respect. I’m going to have nightmares for a week.
K.C.
June 5th, 2008 at 1:40 am
That was surreal…were you high? Good job anyhow…
June 5th, 2008 at 4:16 am
How wonderfully awful! And I mean that in the best way.
I wanted to know why Sam had ended up like this - own choice/mother sold her/government insisted…but apart from that really good job.
June 5th, 2008 at 6:11 am
Weird and different! Would have liked to have known more about the facility and Sam, but I guess that’s left to the reader’s imagination.
Well done and thanks for putting me off my lunch!
June 5th, 2008 at 6:40 am
WELL scary!
June 5th, 2008 at 6:51 am
Wicked! I loved it.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:08 am
My favorite paragraph:
Samantha sat crouched in a corner, studying her reflection in a collection of stainless steel pans. Every ten seconds or so she let out a pitiful howl then smashed a pan against the floor, the wall or her head. Dirt collected beneath her fingernails and a worm wriggled within her auburn fringe. It seemed trapped. Embalming fluid leaked from her nose and eyes.
That put me in a place that I recognized as now here and not now. Then for me all my questions were anwered. Excellent job, Catherine.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:09 am
My favorite paragraph:
Samantha sat crouched in a corner, studying her reflection in a collection of stainless steel pans. Every ten seconds or so she let out a pitiful howl then smashed a pan against the floor, the wall or her head. Dirt collected beneath her fingernails and a worm wriggled within her auburn fringe. It seemed trapped. Embalming fluid leaked from her nose and eyes.
That put me in a place that I recognized as NOT here and NOT now. Then for me, all my questions were anwered. Excellent job, Catherine.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:10 am
Sorry about the double here. Thought I could go back and write over the previous with the back button….sometimes it works. Alas…
June 5th, 2008 at 7:28 am
Thanks and sorry, KC.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:28 am
Only on chocolate.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:28 am
Cheers, Avis.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:29 am
Food is over-rated anyhow.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:29 am
I love your comment as I’m convinced I’m not scary enough.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:30 am
Cheers, Stephen.
June 5th, 2008 at 7:32 am
Thanks Gay, and double comments are cool as it looks like more people have commented than have:
June 5th, 2008 at 8:04 am
Weird and rather wonderful. I like that a lot.
June 5th, 2008 at 8:16 am
Thanks Jonathan.
June 5th, 2008 at 8:43 am
I like the fact that you don’t explain things. Makes in all the more “creepier.” Leave the readers to draw their own conclusions.
June 5th, 2008 at 8:55 am
Thanks Terri.
June 5th, 2008 at 9:01 am
A worm as a character, a mother in denial and a refusal of exposition. Excellent.
Made me hungry.
Catherine, your work is satisfyingly disturbing.
June 5th, 2008 at 9:14 am
Creepy, scary, and good. The worm was a great touch. You put us in the middle of something, and told us enough about where we were to freak us out, but left us baffled enough to want more. I want more now.
June 5th, 2008 at 9:32 am
Cheers, Geoff.
June 5th, 2008 at 9:34 am
Cheers, Kevin. I’m always leaving people baffled
June 5th, 2008 at 9:50 am
Maybe it’s because I’m reading as a parent, myself, but this story really got me, and I don’t even normally enjoy horror. Congratulations, Cate! This really represents the genre at its best.
June 5th, 2008 at 9:51 am
[...] It intrigues me more than usual because of the way the story is bereft of explanation and yet needs none. But does it? Critique week is in full swing at various writers’ fora including Cafe Doom, UKAuthors, Orbiters and others and we are bombarded with crit grids and checklists demanding we enter our opinions on a breakdown of every story. Plot, Theme, Fiction Dream, Character, Beginning, End, Title, are all the sort of categories of comments we have to complete. Yet along comes clever Catherine with a tale that would defy most of those. I know of some critiquers on the web that would demand more explanation, setting and for the POV (Point of View) to be clearer. However, it is a flash piece. Short, punchy and mysteriously ghastly in a neat compelling way. Intrigued? Then follow me >>> http://www.everydayfiction.com/burying-sam-by-catherine-j-gardner/ [...]
June 5th, 2008 at 10:07 am
A nice, concise little piece of horror. I like the fact there is no more explanation, allowing the reader to imagine all the possibilities. Too many readers today don’t seem to have any imagination to fill in the rest of the story themselves.
Liked it mucho.
June 5th, 2008 at 10:11 am
Thanks, Jenn. Much appreciated.
June 5th, 2008 at 10:19 am
Cheers, cheers, cheers.
June 5th, 2008 at 10:46 am
Thank you very much, Ty.
June 5th, 2008 at 12:06 pm
Great job Catherine!
Ty took the words out of my mouth.
Well written and concise!
June 5th, 2008 at 1:21 pm
I’m reading McCarthy’s THE ROAD and Kevin, what you say about Cate’s flash is what happens in THE ROAD. I have very few details about what has happened, but am totally wrapped up in the happening.
June 5th, 2008 at 11:46 pm
Cheers, Isaiyan.
June 6th, 2008 at 12:24 am
Hi there Cate,
Enjoyed the story and liked the use of the definite descriptions of physical items in reference to insubstantial artefacts such as the ‘cocncrete wall’ in her mind.
There is enough detail here to create a graphic framework for the reader’s imagination to do the rest without a great deal of effort but with plenty scope for individual tailoring.
Thanks for a great read
All best wishes
Dave
June 6th, 2008 at 7:46 am
Thanks for reading, Dave.
June 6th, 2008 at 9:57 am
Gruesome physical and mental horror in a domestic setting. Very powerful and self contained. Great read.
Cheers
Mark
June 6th, 2008 at 10:48 am
Thanks for reading, Mark.
June 6th, 2008 at 4:52 pm
Wowser! Nice one, Cate!
June 6th, 2008 at 8:56 pm
Creepy horror–loved it, Cate.
–dj
June 7th, 2008 at 12:54 am
Thanks, Sharon.
June 7th, 2008 at 12:55 am
Cheers, DJ.
June 9th, 2008 at 5:24 am
This grabbed me and rattled my expectations, but kept me hooked until the last word. Well written horror is hard to find and you’re done the genre proud.
June 9th, 2008 at 8:07 am
Thanks, Rosie.
June 14th, 2008 at 7:28 am
I’m glad I read it mid-afternoon. Loved it. The living dead, a horrific tale that made my toes curl.
Jennifer
June 14th, 2008 at 10:51 am
Thank you so much for taking the time to read it.
July 14th, 2008 at 2:44 am
This turned my stomach-and I love when that happens! Nice and weird!
Best,
Pamela
July 14th, 2008 at 7:59 am
Thanks Pamela.
October 26th, 2008 at 11:47 am
Great imagination and an enjoyable read. Love the last line.
Cheers,
Bob
October 28th, 2008 at 11:38 am
Cheers, Bob.