short horror stories

Like pounding ground hamburger through a colander with a glove made of chainmail. And pushing a car full of red fluid into the path of a bulldozer freight train leaving tracers in its path. The meat lumps attract flies and a new breed of decomposer spiders that thread their webs into the strands of muscles and stringy tissue. It's not a waste if it decorates the gutters that drain the grimy water off the roads. The spiders digest it and emit the smells of metal tinged sulphuric acid. The fumes rise in waves like heat as the meat is processed. The politicians frown upon public displays of nature, and call the city sanitation units. Spraying the lumps into the sewer grate where bigger decomposers lurk. Eyes below refract light particles and the cleanup guys know they are just a short ways below. But they are to large to push up into the road. Imprisoned by their basic survival needs by growing over time in the tunnels sealed with metal grates, but feasting once every few days, as the mortality of the people of this town curves and travels with the restless energy of insomniac creepers in the night. People with burlap hoods, vile smelling, with drunken intent. Most with knifes, razors, or chains concealed. They perch upon roofs, lurk behind cars, hide in dumpsters, following you from ahead, somehow sensing the route you've planned. Mocking, belligerently, the things they've heard you say from the spyware on your phone. And performing shows in bands locally, hooded and surgically precise in their knowledge of electric instruments they have mastered. They despise the crowd, so they play the most brutal songs to stir up circle pits. The mass of people spin around drawing blood in a frenzy. Then they slumber fit fully at the break of dawn way down in the catacombs. A shambling hooded freak sneaks up on you and says yoooooou! you you you. tell a lie, did you? a little deception to suit your day? what about us?! what about the ones who survive this?what about the ex-cons? can you sense the tension? can you feel the air thick with strange vibrations? how about right now? can you speak the truth? are you mixing facts into the web you'v spun? about sightlines, the 6 directions, the 4th dimension, and those who survive in the deepest darkness? are you aware of parallel worlds, where demons and angels work the works of destiny? do you know the art of h.r. giger? who combined flesh and machine? images of convoluted beings who live overlapped with tubes, multiple faces, and integrated metal components within their biped insectoid monstrosity of living cyborg? demonic women of immense power and form. faces expanding into networks of solenoids, rippling tubes, gun machinery, and goggled mini giger faced bullet babies. cities carved into stone providing tunnels, towers, and sub chambers of underground altars of madness,and the criss crossed threads connecting the inner earth with massive towers above. we see through the lenses of medical mechanics of surgery and flesh. We can see past the skin layer into muscle tissue, vital organs, circulation pathways, and mental fields of consciousness. We have watched the tissues reconnecting upon bones that are glowing in radiation. Us fiends witness of life transcending physical form under the lights and onlooking students of a new kind of science and procedures.