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Friday, October 18, 2013

50 States Of Horror Inside The Horrorwalker Travel Guide!

Over the past few months, I have been placing a small image of the cover for "Horrorwalker Travel Guide Vol. 1" on display when I advertise the horror. Here is a larger image of the book so that more detail can be seen.

The photo on the cover represent the content inside one of the horror tales inside Horrorwalker Travel Guide.

Volume 2 is done and ready for publication. Look for it at the beginning of 2014. Meanwhile, go to my blogs, including:


for the full length examples of Horrorwalker horror. And if you like what you read... I'll continue to write what you read.

Available through Amazon.com on paper and the Kindle Reader.

Become a part of the horror in my "World Of Words" that is" The Arjayuniverse..." including... Horrorwalker Travel Guide!


Thursday, October 17, 2013

For Your Perusal... Another Example Of Horrorwalker Horror!


Hello horror world...
My Name is Robin Birdie Eggart.
I am just a drone worker in the Human Resources Department,
 In one of the back offices at a very busy auto parts store.
I’m no writer,
But I am a writer for today.
I was just scared almost to death by that thing...
That Horrorwalker creature...
As it cornered me in the copy room...
And made me read this awful story of horror and death.

This copy room is all the way in the darkest back area of this multi-room office.
I stepped into the brightly lit,
Fully stocked with copy products, 
Slightly cramped room as usual...
To make ten copies of this report in my hands.
I stepped before copier number 4 and set-up my work.
Just as I pressed the copy button,
I heard a slight whisper of a movement behind me.
I turned around and there it was...
In all its black absence of light monstrosity,
Standing so close to me that the massive,
Eerie tome in its clawed hand almost touched my nose.
Its weapon-like thing in its other hand scraped the ceiling.
I almost died from the shock!

I pissed on myself!

But The Horrorwalker did not appear to notice anything about me,
Other than the fact that it obviously wanted me to take that book...
Into my tiny hands...
And for me to read that god awful story!

As the usual story goes with those of us who are visited by the Horrorwalker,
We are compelled to read the Horrorwalker story designed for us.
I have heard about the Horrorwalker process for all of my life!
Now, I have experienced it for myself.
And yes... I will never be the same.

Time is standing still for me right now.
How long have I been in this copy room?
Nobody has come in here for what seems like days.
I suppose a part of my Horrorwalker experience is to write this missive...
And time will wait for me to finish it.
So far, I have filled six of these full sized note pads --
And I have a lot more to write.

Presented to the world,
From my pen to your eyes,
Here is what The Horrorwalker forced me to read today!
And may god help us all,
For if there is one thing the world knows,
That is --
What The Horrorwalker presents to us humans always comes true!


Robin Birdie Eggart’s Horrorwalker tale

Well hello there, Cornish Gordon. I bet the very last thoughts you ever imagined you would have right before your death would be independent words and thoughts welling up from deep inside your own mind, right? 
Well, guess what? I am talking to you right now so that you might, or might not, have a little peace of mind as you draw your final breaths of life. I have a profound question for you to ponder before you pass on into the void that is human death -- ‘Are the thoughts of human beings ever really their own?’
I have a doozy of a tale to tell you.
So sit back in your corner of this darkened room, wipe away the blood expressing from your lips and nose, press yourself upright against the wall from your seated position on the concrete, embrace the exquisite clarity of your bone breaking pain and marvel at my abilities as I slow down your heartbeat so that your blood will escape your broken body a little slower... so that you can live long enough to savor the last words sentiments in these, the last words you will ever hear.
Consider the formerly unknown tale of your life that I’m telling you, Mister Assassin, called:


You were minding your own business the other night while shoving six dynamite sticks into the holes you drilled into the lower support of East End Bridge on the east side of town. Do you remember how, from out of the depths of your imagination, you pulled down the notion of destroying the bridge? Do you remember how much you wanted to see the aftermath of the explosion? Remember thinking these words --
“explosion = fun for me.”
You were ready to party with the mayhem.
You gathered the rest of your stuff, extracted your lighter, lit the three foot long fuses as one and then ran like hell to get away from the scene. 
Do you remember...



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