Emily Dill

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Fear Is A Factor

May 22, 2019 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment


As the sun sets on Day 17, I realize that I am going to die.

The island has provided me with the sustenance to last for over two weeks, with fruit-bearing trees and crops that have probably been here for decades.

But this island, or something on it, has also taken five of my friends from me, the last one disappearing after an excruciating scream two nights ago.

We had been too drunk, going too fast, in a boat that we never should have been in. We’d thought it lucky that we found this island so close to the spot of our wreck, but now it didn’t feel like luck. It felt like a dark and final choice had been made for us.

We fell into a trap.

Five men in two weeks. Each screamed at some point in the night, a little distance from the group, their bodies not seen again. We decided as a group that the first one had fallen in the water and drowned. Maybe he’d been eaten by a shark. The second one we were less sure about but decided to reach the same vague conclusion. We found blood on the sand after the third one, and we knew then that there was something on this island besides us.

Now, alone and exhausted and terrified, I have watched the sun set for the last time. The laughter I began hearing about an hour ago has confirmed for me that I’m the last piece of unfinished business. I’ve been watching the water but now I turn back to the tree line, deciding to face my death like a man, the way my father would have wanted.

I didn’t live with much honor, but I can at least die with some.

As I turn to the trees, I see a particular spot seem to shake. More laughter and then sighing. I close my eyes.

“I used to hunt men here regularly,” it whispers, now behind me. “But not for many, many years.”

“You won’t be hunting me,” I reply, my voice steady but my hands shaking.

“I already am,” it taunts, the voice coming from my right.

“To hunt, you must have prey, either hiding or running. I’m doing neither. Where’s the fun in that for you?”

The thing is silent, and I no longer hear rustling so it must have stopped moving. If it has a mind, it is thinking.

If it has a plan, it is adjusting.

“My friends ran, didn’t they?” I’m stalling, but I have no other tactics in my pocket. “How fun for you, but unfortunate for them. I hope you at least killed them fast, but I’m sure you didn’t. Monsters don’t show mercy, right? Isn’t that what makes you monsters?”

A slight rustle, to my left and a little closer than before.

“But monsters also like to chase. They catch and they taunt and they toy around, but they don’t take things given to them. So what are you going to do now?”

The movement behind me is closer now, maybe ten feet away.

“Because I’m giving you the thing you want to fight me for. Go ahead and kill me. Unless meat freely given to you doesn’t taste as sweet?”

I hear a moan, less than five feet away. I can smell the thing now, a horrible mixture of iron and sulfur and seaweed and feces. I breathe through my mouth to keep from gagging.

“You like the taste of adrenaline, don’t you?” Although I’m still improvising and distracting, I feel like I’m onto something. My gut tells me to keep going. If I panic, I’m dead like my friends.

“Does it make the flesh taste sweeter? Or is it the fear that does that? I wouldn’t know. I don’t, you know, eat people.”

A long exhalation from the monster, right on my neck. I’m feeling bold and if I don’t face it now, I never will. I slowly turn and find myself staring into the sunken chest of something hideous.

It’s like a shipwreck of a human.

At least, I think it used to be human. But it’s covered in moss and algae and mold and it’s completely naked. Its chest and ribs are sunken and the only thing bright is a long shock of orange hair around what must be the face. There are no lips, just moldy teeth and a dislocated jaw.

It bends down so that its face is even with mine and I want to scream but I only stop myself because it means certain death. Fear from me will mean my end.

“I’ll wait,” it breathes into my face, inches away.

“For what?” I whisper.

“You to run. Scared. You’ll taste better then.”

I watch myself shrug in the reflection of the thing’s enormous fish-like eyes, knowing nonchalance will keep me alive. Maybe someone is out there looking for me. Maybe. My only option is staying alive long enough to find out.

“Suit yourself,” I say, facing the water once more. I sit down and cross my legs. “I’ll just be here watching for rescue.”

“And I’ll be watching you,” it smiles.

It lies down in front of me, placing itself between me and the water, lying on its side like a cat. It’s more hideous than anything I could ever dream of and I focus on the water and breathe in, then out. In, then out.

And I wonder how we look to the birds flying above us, a filthy boat-accident survivor with a false veneer of calm, and a sea monster lying mere feet away, watching for the slightest sign of fear.

Maybe this is how we’ll look to a rescue boat. Maybe as they get closer they’ll be confused by the two forms on shore, one human and haggard, one something from a nightmare. Calmly reposing on the shore. Maybe I’ll lazily wave as they pull up.

Or maybe they’ll find something else entirely.

Who knows.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: short story, writing

The Easter Bunny Is Here.

May 12, 2019 by Emily Dill 3 Comments

I’ll never forget the Easter of 1989.

I was 7, a little red-cheeked girl overly confident of my cuteness in an eggshell-blue church dress, frills and bows included.

The family Easter egg hunt was being held on an older relative’s farm. Ten dollars and a bag of candy was being offered as the prize to the winner, and my competitive spirit is never stronger than when money is at stake.

After listening to a long dissertation on safety from our parents, all the children were released to the hunt. We were told to stay within eyesight of the adults and to head back toward the porch when we noticed it getting dark.

I could immediately see that most of my cousins were as serious about winning as I was: bows were pulled off, dress pants were ruined, and more than a few punches landed. I quickly decided to leave the ruckus behind and head to the outer edge of the farm, because most of the younger kids would be too nervous to head for the property line.

“Not too far,” I heard my mother yell from the porch, and I gave her a thumbs-up to show her that I’d heard.

But listening and obeying have never been friends of mine, and within 30 minutes I was out of adult eyesight.

I had only found 16 eggs at that point and had determined beforehand that I would need to find at least 25 to win. I decided to push a little further. My dress shoes were dirty, my curls were sweaty, and I was getting so thirsty and tired that I figured that I only had a good 20 minutes left in me.

I stopped moving to plan my last searching spot, and just as I was about to turn around and backtrack for any eggs that I’d missed, I saw something sparkle in the corner of my vision. I gasped.

It was the biggest and most beautiful golden egg I had ever seen. My grandparents hadn’t mentioned hiding one special egg, but that’s obviously what this was.

I made my way to my prize, already mentally tasting my candy and spending my prize money. I faintly heard my mom calling my name, but I didn’t respond. I’d see her in a minute, and surprise her with this golden egg that would surely win me first place.

As I bent forward to grab the egg, I heard my dad’s voice in the distance as well. They sounded worried, and I’d call back just as soon as I –

The ground fell out from under me, sending me and my basket of eggs – including the beautiful one – plummeting underground.

My vision went black temporarily and I got the wind knocked out of me. Looking back now, I’d estimate that the fall was around 6 feet, but I was so stunned that I didn’t even start to cry.

As I stood up, I blinked rapidly and tried to see what was around me. The light from above broke the darkness a little, but it was still hard to see.

I had landed in some sort of den. Snake and chicken eggs covered the ground, some still whole but most broken. The cracked shells left scattered around my feet were covered in yolk and dirt and a reddish-brown mixture that I was scared was blood.

Now that I had my breath back, I started to yell. I yelled for my mom, my dad, my grandparents, and the names of any cousins I thought would be hunting for eggs anywhere in the area.

As I sucked in a giant breath to scream even louder, I heard a noise from the darkness ahead of me. I couldn’t tell if it was a gasp or a hiss or a cough, but it sounded like it came from something that was alive.

I let my breath out quietly, choosing not to scream, and wondering if I’d made a mistake alerting whatever was in the dark to my position.

Tears filled my eyes, and I wiped them away with dirt-caked hands. I glanced around the ground for anything I could use as a weapon, but I only saw mud and shells until I glanced ahead of me, in the direction of the noise I’d heard, and spotted my golden egg again.

It was just as hypnotizing underground, if not more so, because now it seemed to sit in spotlight in the darkness. It almost glowed and it definitely sparkled and I still wanted it more than anything I’d ever seen.

I shuffled as quietly as I could to the egg and grabbed it quickly. It felt warm in my hand, and I hugged it to my face, liking the comfort of something beautiful against my face in this cold and ugly place. As I held it there, I noticed that it almost seemed to hum, as if something were alive inside. I pulled it away and looked at it suspiciously, wondering what could be inside an egg that had obviously been dyed and decorated.

But I saw a glint in my peripheral vision: another golden egg ahead, this one slightly bigger and even brighter.

Throwing caution behind me, I ran to the next egg and grabbed it as well. Now I had two golden eggs, and my cousins wouldn’t have any, and –

There was another egg down the path, even bigger than the last.

This continued until I held five beautiful warm eggs in my arms. I had almost forgotten to be scared, because they all vibrated and seemed to be warming me up completely.

When I spotted the sixth egg up ahead, I didn’t hesitate, although I did wonder how many more of these eggs I’d be able to carry.

But when I got to the sixth egg it disappeared. One second it was ahead in my path, the next second it was gone. I looked around, totally confused, and saw it further along than it had been a moment before.

But when I reached it, it disappeared again, and once more appeared further along the path.

As I reached it this time, I began to feel frustrated. I felt like I was being teased, or being led…

A trap.

It felt like I was being led into a trap.

And just as the thought hit me, just as I decided that the way I’d come was surely still better than the way I was going, something stepped out of the darkness.

I screamed.

I can’t find the words to accurately describe the creature, because I had never seen anything even remotely similar to it as a child and I still haven’t as an adult. I noticed that this thing was much taller than my dad, and he was over six feet tall. The creature was almost completely hairless, except for a few mangy tufts scattered at different spots on its disgusting body. Most of the hair was centered at the bottom of its back, I suppose in a gruesome facsimile of a tail. It walked in a permanent squat, bony knees nearly touching each other, and its feet were enormous.

Something grew from each side of its head, but one would be hard-pressed to call them ears. They hung down to pointy shoulders and laid there, long sinewy nauseating lobes.

The face was despicable and made me sick to look at. Most of the bottom of its head was covered in two enormous buck teeth, and its nose was just a blob of skin, more similar to a tumor than a human nose. I couldn’t see eyeballs, just empty sockets. And each cheek had 3 or 4 whiskers sprouting sideways, each over a foot long.

Its hands were holding something I couldn’t see well in the dark at first. But as my eyes focused I realized that it was a basket that looked like a rib cage.

The basket was made of bones, and it was full of eggs.

I dropped all my eggs at this point and began screaming so hard that I started to hyperventilate. As I screamed, as I stood there terrified and feeling that the world was a nightmare and that nothing would ever be all right again, I saw each of the golden eggs on the ground crack open.

And tiny infant versions of the monster began to crawl from each egg.

It was at this point that I passed out. I remember falling to the ground, landing on top of broken golden shells, and I remember hearing crunching as the giant thing, this horrible Easter Bunny from hell, began to hop toward me.

And then everything went black.

\\\

Almost three decades have passed since that Easter.

I never returned to that farm. Adults didn’t believe the terrified and hysterical girl that sobbed for days and tried to convince them that there was a monster that lived underground. They told me repeatedly that they found me asleep lying in a hole in the ground. I had been filthy, I had some cuts and bruises, and my clothes had been ruined, but otherwise I was all right.

My nightmares lasted for months and my parents tried to be patient when I woke up several times every night crying about the horrors below the family farm. But eventually they stopped coddling me and just started telling me I was wrong. I finally started to believe that maybe they were right: I had fallen into an abandoned well or mine or sinkhole and I had hit my head and dreamed everything. As I grew older, the incident slowly began to fade from my mind and become something that I looked back upon as a hallucination or nightmare. As an adult, I barely gave the incident another thought.

Until yesterday.

I stepped outside close to midnight to let our dog out. He stepped off the porch and immediately growled and came running back to the door and hurried inside.

I squinted out the door to figure out what had scared him, and what I saw turned my stomach over.

In the middle of our front porch was a pile of broken egg shells.

There must have been hundreds, all different sizes, and all covered in mud and plasma and blood.

The stack of shells reached my knees and smelled horrible.

Sitting at the top of the pile was one egg, big enough to be an ostrich egg.

It was sparkling, glittering, beautiful gold.

And it was humming.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: easter, easter bunny, short story, writing

“Relationship Add Vice” released!

January 5, 2018 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

The latest anthology featuring one of my short stories has gone live on Amazon! Relationship Add Vice, which includes my story “Intuition” in their 21-story list, can be bought off of Amazon now in Kindle or paperback format. My story is about a police officer who pulls a woman over for speeding, but is quickly won over by her energy and personality and begins to date her. However, a serial killer is loose in their town, and his police intuition keeps telling him that she’s not safe. If she won’t take his advice to protect herself, she could end up as the next victim.

The editors mostly left my story in its original format. They added an opening line I didn’t write and a closing line I didn’t write, but everything in between is mine and I’m pretty happy with it. Please let me know what you think if you get a chance to read it!

I also have a story coming out in my local library’s new writing journal, Verbatim. I’m not sure if this journal will be available for purchase online or only in person, but I’ll let you know when I know. 🙂 The story is called “Shadow”; it’s a flash fiction piece and is a throwback to old villages being haunted by older spirits. I’ve also written another longer story along those lines that I’ll be shopping around in the coming months and hope to have in a collection soon!

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: anthology, intuition, relationship add vice, short story, writing

Short story anthology featuring “Intuition” coming soon!

October 28, 2017 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

I have another short story coming to you guys! My story Intuition will appear in “Relationship Add Vice“, a collection of stories where “crime meets romance”. The collection will release December 15th, and comes to us from Zombie Pirate Publishing, which I’m sure we can all agree is a fantabulous name.

Click here to pre-order the ebook. I’ll keep you guys posted on any more news, and make sure to let me know what you think of the story once you’ve read it.

And don’t forget, you can still buy the first anthology to feature one of my short stories. Click here to buy 100 Voices: Volume Too to read my story Samantha. Use the code 100V2V83 in the box provided to get a 10% author discount.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: 100 voices, anthology, intuition, samantha, short story

Short Story Collection featuring “Samantha” published!

February 20, 2017 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

It’s here, guys!

The anthology I mentioned before – 100 Voices: Volume Two which features my short piece “Samantha” – is officially published! Christian Lee, the founder and publisher of Centum Press, worked his tail off to get this formatted and published, and it’s a beauty. I gave you a look at the cover in one of my last posts, but here’s a glimpse at the pages of my actual story. 🙂

Click here to buy directly from the publisher – use the code 100V2V83 to get a 10% discount. You can also search “100 Voices: Volume Two” on Amazon, Books A Million, or Barnes & Noble and buy online from their marketplaces.

Let me know if you have questions about purchasing, and thanks so much for any support. <3

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: 100 voices, anthology, centum press, short story

Pre-order available for 100 Voices: Volume Two!

December 20, 2016 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

I’m happy to say that pre-order is now available for the short story anthology in which my piece “Samantha” will be appearing. 100 Voices: Volume Two from Centum Press will be offered in limited edition hardback (500 copies available) and in paperback. If you use my author code 100V2V83 you’ll receive a discount. Let me know if you have any questions at all, and be sure to tell me if you pre-order. Enjoy! 🙂

One Hundred Voices Anthology

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: 100 voices, anthology, centum press, short story

Writing Update: Short Story Anthology

September 13, 2016 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

Hi, beauties.

Just dropping a quick update here before I go about the rest of my day. I wanted to let you all know that a flash fiction piece of mine, Samantha, has been accepted into a short story anthology by Centum Press, an imprint of Allegiant Publishing Group. My story will be in volume two of their 100 Voices Anthology series, and I’m extremely excited. I’ll share more information here when I know pre-order date, publishing date, price, format, and more. I’m just happy they were interested in my little story about a priest and a creepy little girl. 🙂

Have a wonderful week, and remember – it’s always a great day to have a great day.

One Hundred Voices Anthology

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: 100 voices, anthology, author, centum press, short story, writing

Writing Wednesday: “Shadow”

January 13, 2016 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

A cacophony of shadows, and all I feel is fear.

Our village lives in terror of the Night Shadow, the supernatural being who supposedly decides which townspeople live and die. As a means of warding off death, the village chooses one young woman a year to give to the Shadow in marriage. They always make the sacrifice during a full moon in March.

I’ve known since I was old enough to understand the stories that my name would eventually be called, and yesterday it was.

Tonight I stand in the middle of a forest, with my arms tied to a rope wrapped around the tree. This is where the villagers leave the girl every year. In the morning, when they come back, the rope is always cut, and the young woman is always gone. None have ever returned.

I don’t know what happens to them – no one does – but we all assume the same thing: The Night Shadow accepts the village’s sacrifice and kills the girl.

Through the treetops, I see clouds moving to cover the full moon. Instinctively, I know I’ll see the Shadow soon.

I hear no noises; shadows are always silent. But a change in air pressure assures me that he’s close. I spent all of last night awake, wondering what I would say to him and how I could best plead for my life. But now that the moment is here, all I know is that I won’t die whimpering or begging, as the previous girls assuredly did.

“Hello, husband,” I say, trying to sound amused.

The breeze pushes my hair into my face, and I blow it away.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d had a change of heart. Cold feet and all that.” I focus on a tree a few feet away, looking for the shadow in my peripheral vision without being obvious. I think I hear the slightest laugh, but it could be branches moving.

“I really don’t remember accepting your proposal,” I continue, “but I suppose I must have. Congratulations to us both.”

I feel something brush my neck, and tell myself it’s the wind.

“I really can’t wait to meet your family,” I say. “Are they quiet types, like yourself?”

I feel him behind me, and I notice the moon has now cast a second shadow on the ground by mine. I shiver when he speaks.

“Beg,” he whispers.

I should. I know I should. But I don’t.

“No,” I reply.

“Do it,” he presses on.

I close my eyes. “I won’t beg. Ever. Kill me or set me free, but I will never beg.”

I listen for a response, eyes still closed.

Seconds pass.

I feel a release of tension in my wrists. The rope has been cut.

“Will you beg?” he asks one last time, mouth inches away.

“I will not.” I don’t look at him.

“Maybe next year,” he breathes.

And he’s gone.

I’ll be here when the villagers return in the morning.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: prose, short story, writing, writing wednesday

My 2016 Writing Resolutions!

January 2, 2016 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

nye121315-04

Welcome to the New Year, my friendlings! I know, some people don’t get as excited about new years/resolutions/fresh starts/goals as I do (I have a list for pretty much aspect of my life). But I personally love the whole restart/refocus thing that comes with new months and years (or weeks – sometimes I legit have to refocus myself weekly, or ummm daily).

I have a lot of personal resolutions, but I also made some specifically for writing. Here are my main ones:

1. Newsletter for my blog This one is probably the second easiest on my list, but for some reason I’ve put it off for about a year. I definitely want to start a newsletter this year – that way, I can get news about my books/collections immediately to the people who want to know about them! Plus I think agents really like to see the author platform/newsletter in place, so it’s kind of important.

2. Finish my novel/send it out on submission This was also on last year’s resolution list haha – oops. I don’t think I realized then exactly how long the revising process can be. I wrote a large chunk of the book in 4 weeks, and then have spent over a year revising, editing, and staring at it. Ahhhh, the writing life. I do fully intend to finish it this year though, hopefully in the next 2-3 months, and send out my query letter in the spring!

3. Collection of Poems I’ve finally gained enough confidence in my poetry to put them out into the world, and I’d love to publish a book of my poems this coming year, probably in ebook format on Amazon, although I know some poets have been successful at self-publishing pretty books of their poetry then selling them on Etsy.

4. Short Story Collection I’ve been meaning to do this for months – I have written several short stories (and have 3 or 4 more in the process) and want to start publishing an annual collection of creepy short stories.

5. Hit 1,000 followers on Twitter This is the easiest resolution, considering I’m only about 25 followers away. I’ve been creeping up on this number for a while, so it’s going to feel good to finally get there.
UPDATE 1/10/16: Done! See? That didn’t take long. Thank you, Twitterlings. 🙂

6. Win a Writing Contest (or two, or three..) I’ve been wanting to win a writing contest since the beginning of 2015, when I first started looking in to entering them. I think I’m pretty close to winning one this coming week – I’ll keep you posted. 😉
UPDATE 1/4/16: Done! That resolution was completed fast – if only they all could be that quick haha. But I won a weekly contest Prose held this past week + $100. I’m REALLY excited about this. Here is the link to the winning details, and here is the link to my winning poem, Tales. 🙂

7. Read 50 books this year And this isn’t about my writing necessarily, but I firmly believe that good writers read. I read 44 books last year, and I’d like to top that this year. (My favorite person to compete with? Myself.)

I’d love to hear your own writing/reading resolutions – leave them in the comments below or shoot me a message. Let’s crush this year, people! 🙂

nye121315-02

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: author, blog, novel, poetry, short story, writing

Writing Wednesday: Short Story Excerpt and Updates

December 9, 2015 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

Hey, you. And you. And even you.

I’ve gotten behind on some of my Writing Wednesdays, so I’ve decided to aim for every other Wednesday. (Set the bar low, friends.) I’ll talk a little bit in these posts about where I am in my writing, maybe share some excerpts, or give you some tips I’ve picked up on.

In today’s post I wanted to share news about my short story, Seeking Spirits. I’ve finally completed/edited it, and my plan right now is to release it digitally on Amazon on New Year’s Day. Right now Seeking Spirits: A Paranormal Short Story is sitting at 11,500 words and I’ll be selling it for 99 cents. I can’t wait to finally get my writing on Amazon and to hear what you all think of it. 🙂 Here’s my blurb about the story:

Elizabeth Harding contacts the crew of cable TV’s smash hit ghost-hunting show, Seeking Sprits. She has a major problem with her new house – it seems to be haunted by a jealous, territorial male spirit who won’t let her entertain any male guests. The crew heads to her house to shoot an episode, expecting to hear maybe a few bumps in the night and see a shadow or two. What they don’t expect is to be locked in overnight with an angry, vengeful spirit who doesn’t like even one male visitor, let alone four.

Alsooooo, here is the intro section:

The television crew had finally arrived.
Elizabeth had been nervously fluffing couch pillows when she heard their van doors slamming from outside.

She peeked through her living room blinds and saw the huge van sitting in her driveway. She watched four men pile out of the vehicle, stretch, laugh, and push each other around, then open the back of the van to start unloading equipment.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her front door, letting the four men into her house, and into what had recently become her nightmare.

Make sure to follow me on social media for updates about when my story will be available for purchase!

I’m also in the process of working on two other short stories (one is supernatural, the other is about a psychotic truck stop waitress), and those will be available on Amazon as well, although I haven’t decided if they’ll be sold separately or as part of a short story collection. Exciting stuff!

Speaking of exciting, this month I saw my name in Writer’s Digest for the first time. (Yes, I said first time. I’m an optimist. That glass is freaking full, people.)

Writer's Digest Feature

Emily Dill's First Appearance in Writer's Digest

Writer's Digest

Lastly, I’ll be sending my query letter (and hopefully manuscript) to agents early in the coming year. Send good thoughts and prayers my way, por favor! I hope you all have a wonderful week and enjoy the heck out of the season. 🙂

Filed Under: Blog, Short Stories Tagged With: author, novel, short story, writing, writing wednesday

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News and Updates

  • For 35 Years
  • Fear Is A Factor
  • The Easter Bunny Is Here.
  • Fire and Ice.
  • Weather.
  • Verbatim, library journal featuring my story, released!
  • “Relationship Add Vice” released!
  • Short story anthology featuring “Intuition” coming soon!
  • Me.
  • Short Story Collection featuring “Samantha” published!

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