Dead Arts

Panic on the streets of London
Panic

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The Wicker Man strikes again. No folks this is not the 1973 cult classic horror film that was remade in 2006. This is a horror that stalks our London streets. There is panic on the streets of London tonight, Canada. Over the past two months the number of kidnappings and murders have led police on a wild goose chase. With only his call sign left at the scenes of his gruesome crimes. His sign? A small wicker doll dressed in the doll sized version of his victims clothes. Police are asking any who may have information or have witnessed anything suspicious to please come forward…..But if it’s one thing for sure, London, Ontario has become a quiet city….a city of fear… as this killer has police baffled. He will take anyone…. man, woman or child, and of any age. So London, lock your doors, check your windows and keep your children close, for the Wicker Man is out there. This is Stephanie Mathers, Channel 9 News._

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The Boy in the Darkness
Boy in the Darkness

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The boy has been wandering the tunnel in pitch darkness for what felt like an eternity. He stumbles on the cold stone of the steps he came upon. Crawling his way up with weariness and exhaustion….He counts. He counts the steps as he goes up….1……2…..3. His sweat runs down his forehead, stinging his eyes and yet he is freezing, his body thin and weak from malnourishment. He feels woozy and takes a moment to catch his breath. The boy recalls the men in white. He remembers the total darkness and how they would stick him with all sorts of things that made him feel funny. 4…..5…..6…….7, the cold stone steps although their texture feels different, it reminds him of cold hard metal. The sensation forever a memory embedded in this skin from feeling on his back. A shiver runs up and down his spine and his body aches but he continues onward and upwards. Just a few more he tells himself, 8……..9…….10…..11. Suddenly he hits a wall, he searches and grabs for what feels like a metal bar that is fastened to the wall….it’s a door. Perhaps he has made it out, he’ll get to see the outside again. He’ll be free and can find a his family. The hope and longing of it all hangs there in his chest. He can’t breathe for fear that the men in white will hear him. Then he slowly turns the metal handle and pushes. The light creeps in at first like a thought that suddenly infects one’s mind. Suddenly there is nothing but whiteness, so bright and bold he can not see a thing but fear. White…..it frightens him. His vision is blurry from to long in darkness, it focuses in and out.

He’s in a clean hallway filled with lights and doors leading off into parts unknown. From some of these doors he can hear voices. Sometimes they are moans and cries, other times the sounds of machines. He crawls slowly down the hallway, keeping low due to weakness but also because he knows that they might not notice him. Then he comes to his first door. The letters A.D. followed by a series of numbers are painted on the door just below a small window. With what little courage he can muster he raises himself up and peeks through the window. Inside a little girl sits in a corner, crying into her knees. There are toys scattered throughout the room. Up against the left hand wall of the room, he notices a group of machines with monitors and a rather large mirror. He knows he cannot help the girl, that to help her would be to bring the men in white. He would be caught and taken back into the darkness, where they would stick him and hurt him with more things. He then slowly lowers himself below the window and continues on hoping to find his way out….

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The Lords of London
Into the Mist

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London, Ontario: A fog rolls and slithers out of the river Thames,
slowly, creeping through Harris Park with a life of its own. A man and a woman in passionate embrace
on a park bench look up for a moment as the fog crawls around them. Within the fog they hear the
sound of children’s laughter combined with the chittering of a thousand beetles clicking and clacking
their mandibles. The lovers look around in fear. The man stands up only to trip on some invisible vine.
The laughter increases, “Roger, are you ok” the woman whimpers. A sudden moisture covers the
woman. She slowly raises her hands to her face to touch it and pulling it away, seeing the thick red fluid
covering her hands and face. She begins to run through the fog covered park.

Frantically making her way towards Ridout St. with the sound of the clicking laughter. Just another yard
or so and she will be on the street with plenty of light. Suddenly she feels a sharp sting on her arms and
legs, blood trickles down. She screams and pushes herself harder through the park, trying not to trip.
The woman suddenly runs into an oak tree knocking herself down. The fog slows to a crawl and swirls
about her, she looks up “Please God, no I don’t want to die” she cries as three Silhouettes appear in the
fog directly in front of her. Three girls about the age of five are standing there in white dresses. Their
dresses swirl with the fog….wait they are the fog. The woman’s eyes go wide as the three girls smile at
her with pitch black eyes. “No way, no fuckin way” the woman yells and gets up at a run. She hears the
laughter all around her and catches glimpses of the girls off to her side at times. Suddenly the tree line
breaks and she is on the street. She looks back briefly and see’s the three girls sneering at her from the
shadow of the trees, but not daring to step into the street lights.

“Megan” Roger is there on the street, not a single scratch on him. “Are you alright, Megan” he calls
to her. She turns startled and see’s Roger standing no more than twenty-feet away, looking like he
did before all of this happened as if none of it had phased him. “Damn it, Roger, where were you? I
thought you…” she begins to sob and runs to him as he holds his arms wide to hold her. “I thought you
were dead, I saw you fall into that fog and then you never came back up, and I was covered in blood. I
thought it was yours”. He shushes her and holds her tight. The scent of blood and earth is strong around
them. “Roger let’s get out of here” she says in alarm, but he holds her fast, “All the leaves are yellow,

All the grass is brown. All the nights are longer, Sun goes down” he whispers to her and Megan pulls her
head back, “Roger what are you” she cuts herself off as she stares into her lovers pitch black eyes. He
Smiles at her, “Crows are in the branches, wolves are in the wild. Others in the shadows” he whispers as
the laughter starts up around them and Megan notices that the street is covered in fog, and with terror
she realizes her mistake. “Goodbye, child” he says and smiles.

As the fog continues to slither and creep along the streets of London, all that is heard of Megan is a
sharp scream in the night followed by children’s laughter and then all is quiet again.

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