From the bedroom came a thump and a scratching noise. Amy must have woken. Mike decided he would head back and chat with her. If they both couldn’t sleep, they could at least help kill the night hours together. Mike clicked off the lamp and lit his cell again to illuminate the hallway while his eyes had a change to adjust to the dark. He wandered back towards the bedroom, and decided to take a quick pit stop in the hall bathroom. He didn’t bother to turn on the bathroom light, instead leaning over the toilet and hoping for the best.

As he started to pee, his eyes were drawn to the reflection of the cell phone light in the mirror. The light cast a spooky glow over the bathroom. Great, he thought. This is the night scene from a horror movie and I’m that idiot that stops to look in the mirror. He put his phone face down on the counter. As he stared at the darker reflection of the room, he grew uneasy. Where there is an absence of color and light, the mind fills the void with wildly vivid and colorful pictures. The longer he stared, the more the shapes and shadows contorted around him in otherworldly fashion. He quickly finished and gave a final aggressive shake, and suddenly he heard a faint scratching sound coming from the wall in front of him.




Nothing.  The bedroom was on the other side of the wall, so Amy had to be the source of the noise. Mike put his ear closer to the wall. The scratching was rhythmic and repetitive, soft and muffled. Every new scratch sent a cringe through Mike’s body. No, not a cringe. Pain. Mike felt the suffocating darkness enveloping him. His eyes trailed to the mirror again, and he stood very still trying to focus on the scratching noise. The reflection did not show a stillness or a carefully listening man, but movement that caused Mike to jump and stumble backwards. He grabbed a hold of the counter and flicked on the bathroom light. What he found was that the dark had concealed the origin of the scratching noise. Mike stared into the mirror, and his reflection revealed the source of the noise. His entire upper thigh, where he had obtained the bite from Seth, was bloody and oozing a black bile-like fluid. The injury had spread to cover his whole abdomen, groin, and cock, all which bulged with pulsating purple spider webs of blood and rot. His fingers were deeply imbedded in the original wound on his thigh. Although he could see only a miniscule amount of movement, he knew immediately what the scratching noise was. His fingernails on bone.

            Mike lurched forward and vomited in and on the toilet. He broke out in a cold sweat, his head swimming. He needed to get to Amy for help before he passed out. He grabbed his cell phone off the counter, and crawled out into the hallways towards the bedroom. When he reached the bedroom door he thrust it open and collapsed face first onto the rug.


“Amy. Amy. Amy,” he sputtered. His world was spinning, but he had made it to the doorway. “Amy, something’s wro….help….”.


No sound, no response. Absolutely nothing. Was Amy still in bed? Was she downstairs? Please fuck, let her still be in the room. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it to his feet, let alone down a flight of stairs. He pulled himself the final few inches into the bedroom, and slowly rose on one knee to see the bed. He activated the light on his phone and shone it into the room.

            Amy was kneeling in the middle of the bed. But it wasn’t the Amy of today. It was a young Amy; a youthful Amy from the time when they first met. An Amy whose hair was longer and shinier, whose face was yet to be weathered by the sun of a plethora of tropical vacations. An Amy whose hands were bound in front of her with chicken wire that sliced deeply into her wrists, and whose naked body was ravaged with bruises and breaks. An Amy whose lower jaw had become detached and hung off of her face on tendrils of bloody tendon and muscle, revealing the tongueless cavern that had once been a mouth. Amy began crying, and spider webs of the same flowing death that plagued Mike’s upper thigh spread quickly across her face and over her eyes. She started screaming something incoherent, and black bile poured from her throat. Mike was only able to pry his eyes from his grotesque and beautiful young Amy when they rolled up inside his head as he passed out before her on the carpet.

Mike McCallister leads a normal, peacefully boring existence. He lives in a quiet little town, has a good job, a very close friend, and is blissfully married to the love of his life. Aside from a rocky relationship with his father, all is well in Mike's world.

Everything changes when his community suffers from their first brutal murder. It sends Mike on a violent journey wildly blurring reality and fantasy.

Mike, and those doomed to ride this journey with him, grapple with unspeakable horrors as they embark on a mission to make sense of the evil that is plaguing their once peaceful town.

Landing in Eden is the story of a bizarre crime that escalates into a rollercoaster ride, becoming the worst supernatural horror your nightmares can conjure.

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Excerpt from Landing in Eden

Landing in Eden