Short Story: The Vicious Ones | Ali House

Let’s be honest, anything I write today will be overshadowed by the news that Chillers From the Rock is an ebook bestseller on Amazon – and I’m totally okay with that. Woohoo!

In celebration, here’s a horror story that I didn’t finish in time for submission + a tale of how it came to be. And to make it deliberately scarier, I’m posting it late at night!

*Spooky voice*  Read more, if you dare….

The Vicious Ones

Once upon a time, many centuries ago, our clan lived in harmony with the Vicious Ones.  They had a different name back then, back in the peaceful days, but it has been lost to time.  While they were not as advanced as we, we watched them grow over the years, learning how to adapt to this world.  They were aware of our existence, as we were of theirs, but we kept to our own clans, existing side-by-side in harmony.

But one day those within our clan began to disappear.  We stopped hearing their voices in our head, finding only silence when we searched them out.  Our clan realized that something terrible was going on, and sent out warnings about the new, unknown danger, putting everyone on alert.

Eventually one of our clan was able to send us an image of a Vicious One descending on them before the image disappeared and there was only darkness.  We never heard from that clan member again.

It was our nature to be peaceful and seek resolve without violence. We tried to communicate with the Vicious Ones, to ask why they were doing this, but they were not evolved enough to understand our language.  Or maybe they did hear our thoughts but were too wicked to care.

Some talked of fighting back, but we knew that using physical violence would damn our souls to the Eternal Darkness.  So we continued with our futile plan of trying to make these evil creatures understand our pain, hoping that one day we would be heard and they would end their reign of terror.  We knew that any moment we might be taken away, yet still we dared to live.

Then the Vicious Ones came for me, wrenching me from my home and severing my link to the rest of the clan.  Where once I heard a multitude of voices in my head, there was now silence and despair.  I was put into darkness, and taken far away from my home.  We had often wondered what the Vicious Ones did with those they captured.  The answer was more disturbing than I could have imagined.

As I stared at the sharp knife before me, I tried to project my thoughts into the creature standing before me.  I tried to tell them how beautiful life was, how I loved my family and friends, and how they had taken me from a life that I was not ready to leave, but they did not listen.

As the knife sliced into my flesh, I could see tears form in the eyes of my tormenter.  I wondered if my message had reached them, if they would realize their mistake and let me go, but my hopes were dashed as they raised the knife again.  Tears began to fall from their eyes as another slice cut into me, and I realized that I could only send my emotions and nothing else.

My tormentor cried, but they did not understand why…


So, how did I get the idea for this story? It starts with my bad eyesight in Grade Four, getting contacts in Grade Nine, and then having Laser Eye Surgery four/five years ago. The surgery had given me 20/20 vision but it also made me susceptible to certain things… things like onions.

The idea for this story came about when I was cutting an onion and sobbed as much as if I was watching “P.s. I Love You” (my go-to sad movie). 

As tears literally streamed down my face I wondered why the heck I was crying so much, and thus this story was born. 

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