|HAPPY HALLOWEEN! To celebrate all of these things that go bump in the night, I am sharing a creative writing exercise with you. It will be a basic premise for a horror story. And, because this year’s presidential election has been quite horrifying, the main characters in this year’s horror story will be Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton!
The first step will be to make a list of ten frightening words, all of which will be used in the creative writing exercise.
blood, guts, gore, sharpened teeth, vampires, howling, screaming, red moon, terror, ghoul
OK, now your next step will be to decide what form you want to use for your horror story. Would you like to write prose or poetry or, perhaps, a play? Would you like to write a pastiche? A pastiche is an artistic work in a style that imitates that of another work, artist, or period.
OK, for this demonstration, I will do a pastiche. The story that I will base my story on will be “The Tell Tale Heart,” by Edgar Allen Poe. The story will be written from the perspective of Donald Trump, in the first person. The premise is that the main character is trying to make everyone, including himself, believe that he is not a crazed lunatic, yet he is quite delusional and he kills…
OK, well,here goes:
My name is Donald Trump, and I am running for president. I am a sane, normal man, and I want to make America great again. On the night of the last debate, the most horrific thing happened to me. After my supporters left, I grew quite weary because I had actually prepared for the debate. I sat down on one of the softer seats in the green room, and I fell sound asleep. When I woke up, I heard a terrible howling, and I felt fear. I feared that Illegal Aliens had snuck into the room and were prepared to kidnap me and eat me for dinner. I know that all illegal aliens are cannibals,not to mention ghouls, which is why I want to build a big, expensive wall between the United States and Mexico. It’s to save our patriotic Americans from being turned into the main course at a Mexican fiesta.
I felt the urge to scream come on, but I bravely fought it off. All of my campaign staff was gone. How long had I slept. I tried the doors, but they were locked. There was no escape. No one to make speeches to. It was dark, and my cell phone needed to be recharged, and my handlers had forgotten the recharger. I’ll have to fire the handlers, when and if I see them again.
I looked out the window, and I saw the red moon, shining like blood in the sky. It was a beautiful moon. A magnificent moon. I understand about beautiful and magnificent because those are two words that will be applied to me when I am elected president.
And then, on a couch, I saw the thing that made my blood run cold. It was my opponent. She had a picture of Al Gore clutched in her horrible looking claws. She had a terrible expression on her face. She grimaced and she said words under her breath. I couldn’t understand what she said. She was truly a nasty woman. One of her eyes was open. It was a terrible thing. Pale blue and bloodshot it was in appearance. Although she seemed to be asleep, that eye kept following me where ever I went.
I was good to her during the debate. I was very kind. I tried my best to be kind to such a nasty woman. But now she was having her revenge. Although asleep, she was determined to spill my guts. Her mouth opened and closed, revealing her terrible sharpened teeth. That eye never stopped staring at me.
Stop!!! Now!!! Stop staring at me!
The eye never shut. It was the eye of doom. My doom. No. I can’t let her laser eye kill me.
I knew that my life was in peril. This woman, who was supposedly my opponent, was actually my assassin. She had killed before, and she would kill again. The doors were locked, and the walls were closing in on me. I could sense myself going mad, slowly. I had to get rid of this danger, this horrible woman. I tried to avoid looking at that monstrous eye,but I could see, just by looking at those sharpened teeth that the terrifying Hillary was not even human. She was a vampire. A vampire, in league with ghouls and zombies. She would have my blood and she would have my soul. I had to act, and I had to act while the menace was asleep.
I wandered the building fearfully, afraid that other ghouls, zombies, and vampires had hidden where I could least expect them. How could I die in such an ignominious… hey, that’s a big word for me!!! Um. horrifying way? I am, after all, the Donald. I have an empire to maintain. I must survive.
I must survive.
I must survive.
I must survive.
Aha! The kitchen. Search the drawers and the cupboards until I find it. The right knife. I went back to the green room,and…There was nowhere I could go. I was trapped in this building. Trapped with the knowledge that I had to nullify the threat to me by Killing the Hillary. I approached the Hillary with my knife. She sat bolt upright and howled briefly. Then she screamed, a shrill, terrible scream. She asked, “Who is there?” over and over again. I did not respond. She slumped over, and I killed her. I killed the Hillary.I cut out her heart. The heart of a Nasty woman. No more could she make any sounds. Had she just died or was she already one of the Undead?
I buried her heart under the floor boards.
I don’t remember what I did with the body. There is so much of that night that I cannot remember.
Sleep eluded me. How could I sleep while hearing that horrible sound?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It sounded like Trump. Trump. Trump.
The sound was calling to me, blaming me for the death of the Hillary.
But, no, it was a sound that was, at first, faint, and then became louder and louder and louder.
It was the heart of the Hillary, beating like a metronome.
The noise continued, all night, until it became quite a din. It took over my own heartbeat. I was scarcely aware of being a human. I forgot that I was the Mighty and Invincible Donald. I was full of fear. My future had been destroyed by the heart of a Nasty Woman. Neither one of us would ever be president but I had to make sure that her heart stopped making that terrible noise.
And yet, I was powerless.
I was a magnificent, important man who was loved or at least feared by many, but I could not stop the terrible beating of that frightening heart.
Morning approached. I heard the unlocking of doors. A janitor approached to clean the green room. He saw me there, my tie askew and a stubble on my face. He saw the crazed look in my eyes. He ran, screaming.
Not long afterward, two policemen came into the room. I was happy to see them. I love Law and Order. Great TV show.I knew that the policemen would stop the beating of that terrible Nasty Woman heart.
The noise continued, unabated. Louder and louder. The policemen asked me questions. I could not hear them. I could not hear anything but the beating of that horrible heart. I could bear it no longer.
“I confess! I have killed the Hillary. I buried her heart under the floorboards. Tear them up! There! Right there! Don’t you hear? The beating of her hideous heart!!!!”