KeroseneHall-o-zine.pdf - The Soft Scrawl Collective

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0 table of contents 1 ​a witch and her bat,​ Gabby 2 ​hookhandcardoor​, Lassiter 3-5 ​Portraiture​, Lassiter ------------ ​TW: Choking, Suffocation, Strangulation, Implied Murder, Death Kerosene Hall-o-zine 6-7 ​untitled,​ Moe a collaborative halloween-themed art & writing e-zine 8 ​horroromance​, Heebs 9 ​2020 Halloween Solutions​, Heebs 10 ​Take My Hand And Give Me Your Smile​, Jellyfishmoon72 11-14 ​Cat Toys​, Heebs ---------------------------​ TW:Monsters, Home Invasion, Implied Animal Peril hosted by / the soft scrawl collective 15 ​Pumpkin Guts,​ Jellyfishmoon72 edited & assembled by / V.M. Heebs 16 ​Deity Dude,​ Jellyfishmoon72 cover design / ​Hallowed Moon​, Leo 17-18 ​Truffle & Puffball: Trick-or-Meat​, Heebs title font / Friday13v12 by Norfok Inc. 19 ​Roommate-o-ween,​ Heebs 20 ​Hallowed Moon​, Leo 21-22 about the artists 23 about the soft scrawl collective TW: Choking, Suffocation, Strangulation, Implied Murder, Death Portraiture The house was wrong. The more she wandered the less sense it made. Rooms would feed into each other and hallways would lead to dead ends or staircases that “No you can’t go trick or treating alone.” Abner said, carving a pumpkin at the trapped her for hours at a time before a door finally appeared, opening to another kitchen table. Cecelia watched, reaching for the knife every time it was put down. identical hallway. There were only so many portraits in the entire house it seemed, they repeated on every floor. A man, a woman, and a long row of children.‘The Du “But I’m thirteen.” She protested. Her father’s gaze remained on the pumpkin. Pont Family’ the plaque under each read, a single one for all of them. Cecelia hated “I know how old you are.” their eyes, there was a liveliness to them and whenever she looked too deeply she could feel dread begin to settle on her bones. “All the other-” At first she’d been confident that she would be able to make her way back out “All the other kids have been doing it for years and years, I know. You’ve told but as time wore on panic had begun to build in her chest, sending her running as fast me and I’ve told you that the answer is no.” Cecelia gathered herself up into a ball and as she could through any door or down any stairwell that might lead her to the ground thought the meanest, nastiest things she could. When she was younger she would cry floor. She’d started trying to break windows and frantically pressing against walls in and kick and scream but after becoming a teenager she had decided that she would the hopes that a trap door would be revealed. She was tired and her thoughts turned to instead try her best to manifest her desires instead of beating others over the head with her father and bed. them. As she dragged herself down another hallway something caught her eye. Abner, not one to let a bad mood sit undisturbed, offered her the lighter he’d Something new. She ran to it, hoping it might be a way out but felt her heart sink as bought last Halloween. It was one Cecelia had picked out for him, depicting a ghost she saw it was just a mirror. Despite herself, Cecelia leaned into it, admiring her flying cheerfully over an empty pumpkin patch. It drew the girl’s attention reflection in the clear glass. Her face looked beautiful in a soft, elegant way she hadn’t immediately and for the rest of the day her mind had run wild thinking of a body ever seen it before. Rosy cheeks and wide, doleful eyes. A strange thought occurred to hidden just beneath the weeds. her then, one that made the bottom of her stomach give way, fear pooling into it and filling her from the inside. ​I’m still wearing my mask. Cecelia had recently become enchanted by the Dupont house. She passed it everyday on her way home, its dilapidated elegance drawing her eye. The feeling that The girl in the mirror’s face twisted with identical panic at her realization, she should go inside had been growing ever stronger in the months leading up to hands flying out and wrapping around Cecelia’s throat as her appearance changed, Halloween until the urge was near unbearable. It kept her up at night, tossing and Cecelia’s features giving way to those of a girl she’d seen before. One of the girls in turning, dreaming of running up to the house and vanishing in the pitch black behind that row of children from the portraits that watched the scene with undisguised the stained glass doors. She would wake up feeling frustrated and tired, as if she hadn’t anticipation. Her hands weren’t cold like Cecelia had expected, they were warm to the slept at all. So that night she decided that she’d finally go see the inside of that house point of burning. with the hope that afterwards she could rest. Help me. S ​ he thought, kicking and clawing at the other girl who took the The walk was more unnerving than she’d expected in the dark. The last trick wounds without flinching, eyes shimmering with tears as she began to laugh. It was or treaters were trudging home or being carried in a tired parent’s arms. Scarecrows the clear, bright laughter that came after a great burden had been lifted. There was no sagged and empty plastic jack-o-lanterns collected rainwater as it began to drizzle. trace of cruelty in it and for a moment Cecelia had the delirious notion that something Cecelia soldiered on, pulling her mask tighter around her head. In case she was spotted magnificent was happening. A miracle was being performed before her and she would she’d grabbed a pigeon mask from the dummy her dad had set out on their porch. wake up at home or on stage at a show, bowing as roses fell at her feet. The crowd Adults were nosey and eager to phone each other up to report things. She didn’t want would cheer her name and- her adventure ruined by her dad barging in to fetch her. “Cecelia!” Cried a voice from outside that brought her back to reality. Her By the time she stood in front of the house it was raining in earnest. She could dad. She could hear him shouting her name, worry causing his voice to tremble and hear the water hitting her mask and feel the fabric of her sweater growing heavier. The anger carrying it far enough to reach her in that damned hall. “Cecelia, where are doors she’d dreamed about so many nights were finally in front of her and as she took you!” a step forward she felt a force push her onward, like running down a hill so fast it was nearly indistinguishable from falling. By the time she thought ​Something’s wrong ​she He was looking for her. He was looking for her, she had to go. Cecelia fought was already inside, doors shutting firmly behind her. Nowhere to go but deeper in. harder despite how fast she felt herself fading, one last burst of energy, one last try. Her mask had been knocked off in the scuffle and she felt laid bare before this strange, joyous entity. ​I don’t want to die. ​She thought desperately, picturing her dad standing out in the pouring rain, missing her. “But you won’t.” The girl assured her gently, a tear running down her right cheek and landing in Cecelia’s left eye. “You won’t ever die.” The words followed Cecelia into the darkness that had been slowly encroaching her vision, echoing around her skull and lulling her into thinking finally of nothing at all. A silence fell in the hall as the girl pushed Cecelia’s body into the mirror and watched it vanish into the space beyond. There was another portrait on the wall, next to the newly empty frame. The house seemed to sigh with relief. The girl picked up the pigeon mask and examined it for a moment before pulling it on and walking down the row of stairs that had appeared where the mirror once stood. At the bottom was a door that led out into the crisp october air and in front of her stood a man whose eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Cecelia!” He cried, running up and hugging her tightly. She hesitated before hugging him back, letting herself melt into his warmth. “Cecelia, are you alright? I was worried sick about you- you feel hot. Are you sick? It’s pouring out here, where have you been?” He looked up at the house she’d come from and shivered at the light in the window. For a moment he thought there was something burning. He took the girl’s hand and led her away from the porch steps. “Let’s get you home, ok? Promise me you won’t ever do something like that again.” The girl nodded eagerly, smiling wide beneath the mask as she was taken home. Finally, finally. Home. horroromance a thousand little eyes scuttle down from the attic and find us singing like birds at the organ our hearts strung round our necks sweet teeth on our sleeves your fingernails are feathers you’re a hair-raising hell-blazer burning cinnamon-heart hot a jawbreaker biting light and fluffy drinking pink lemonade from my neck your smile’s a drive-in movie marathon and we’re twin milk duds melted hip-to-hip every party is a stage for you and me to play the whole world’s a picture frame for your face we’ll waltz through all your favorite haunts and our chemistry will zap the night alive you know every piece of me like a butcher’s knife knows a calf I’d go happily hand-in-hand into any meat grinder together with you — v.m. heebs TW: Monsters, Home Invasion, Implied Animal Peril Freddy ended up falling into a habit of buying Flue some new little toy for Cat Toys every holiday. The heart-shaped laser pointer they got for Valentine’s Day was especially well-received. They even got Flue a little cat-nip filled mouse for their own Regardless of whether you think black cats are bad luck, having one around in birthday, which didn’t strike them as in any way odd until they told their boyfriend October is always handy. Freddy had never been a cat person, but they liked to think Arran about it, who teased them about taking better care of their cat than they did they were fairly open to new experiences, so when a wiry-haired all-black tumbleweed themself. In some ways that was true, but Freddy didn’t want to admit it. They were showed up at their door on October 30th with no collar and the most pitiful meow determined to remain staunchly neutral in the cats vs. dogs debate, and refused to cave they’d ever heard, they became a cat owner. to the urge to start an Instagram for their cat. Freddy thought of Flue as more of a roommate than anything, and was quite content keeping their arrangement the way it Originally they were just going to let the cat in for the night because it was was. cold out, give her some canned tuna to eat, maybe put up some ‘Is This You Cat?’ posts online, and then bring her into a shelter as a last resort. No one ended up Nearly an exact year after Flue had wandered into Freddy’s life, that claiming the cat, and Freddy didn’t have the heart to send her away to sit in a metal arrangement became strained. A week before Halloween, Flue became much jumpier cage. That Halloween, Freddy dubbed her Flue because of how her puffball of dark fur than usual. Every once in a while she would leap a foot into the air and take off like a made her look like she had just climbed out of a chimney, and could feel in their bones shot out of blue. The time she did this while in Freddy’s lap was the first time she had that she was now their cat. drawn blood. She had also taken to directing her fits of growls and hisses at the back door, which started to make Freddy uneasy. When they confided in Arran, he assured Becoming a cat parent was a bit of an adjustment - Freddy spent nearly a hour them Flue was probably smelling a raccoon out in the backyard or something, that cats in the pet store deciding between all the different kinds of cat food - but overall, taking could get very territorial like that. They tried to take that to heart, but they got a cold Flue in wasn’t that big of an inconvenience. She was already fixed as their first vet anxiety in their stomach that made them start to think that Flue knew something they visit revealed, and she was very independent, moreso than Freddy had ever seen in didn’t. One day while washing dishes they swore they saw someone out in the trees by their friend’s cats. Sometimes she would disappear all day, only reappearing for meals, the edge of their backyard through the kitchen window. They tried not to think about it despite Freddy’s single-floor apartment having very many places to hide. too much, and always double-checked that the back door was locked when they went It became clear to Freddy after a few weeks that Flue was not very friendly by to bed. nature, and occasionally she would raise her hackles and growl and hiss for no When Halloween came around, Flue was still ill at ease, but had spent most of discernable reason. But she never bit or scratched Freddy, and so they fell into a the day holed away in her hiding spots, so when Arran came by to hand out candy with comfortable symbiosis of food and shelter in exchange for a pair of ears to direct them before he headed off to work, they were able to relax for the first time all week. thoughts to when Freddy spoke out loud to themself and shared body heat when it got The two got lots of compliments from chaperoning parents on their tacky matching particularly cold. Flue didn’t like to be picked up and only seemed to tolerate being sweaters, and by the time their candy bowl - and their bottle of apple cider - was pet, so their only real moment of bonding were when she decided to interrupt Freddy empty, Freddy was smiling and laughing more than they had in a while. They gave while they worked on their laptop by stepping on the keyboard until they moved it to Arran one last kiss on his way out the door and headed to bed, content and tipsy let her curl up in their lap. enough to feel a good night’s sleep ahead. They hadn’t seen Flue since that morning, But what Flue did like, as Freddy discovered their first Christmas together, but on their way to their room they saw that her food bowl was now empty, which put were toys. Freddy bought her a pre-packaged cat stocking from the pet store, mostly to their worries that she might be sick at ease. They curled up under their covers and fell make them feel less silly hanging up their solitary stocking over the non-functional asleep almost instantly. fireplace, and as soon as they had pulled out the crinkly plush fish toy Flue had come When Freddy woke up suddenly in the middle of the night with a feeling that running. Her orange eyes were wider than Freddy had ever seen them, and she began something was wrong, they couldn’t tell what it was that had woken them. They carrying that fish toy with her everywhere. Crinkling, jingling, and frantic scampering flipped the light on and looked around their room. Everything was normal. They soon became ambient noise in Freddy’s life. didn’t smell smoke or gas like they had heard in stories about people sensing danger in wrapped around its form with sickening cracks and pops, rising nearly to the ceiling, a a dead sleep. They listened, but the only sound in the apartment was the crinkling and mess of slick black angles ruled by two mesmerizing multicolor moons. jingling of Flue’s toys. Nothing seemed amiss, but they couldn’t shake the feeling of The thing stood just as still as Freddy for a moment, making no sound. They alarm that had settled over them. Quietly, they got out of bed and headed out into the only just then became aware that their heart was beating so hard they could hear the hallway. blood thrumming in their ears. When the creature began to lean towards them, able to As they made their way to the living room, something made them stop. Out in cross nearly the entire room just by bending, a wave of heat and a heavy, wet smell the hallway, they could hear another sound accompanying the erratic bells and plastic washed over them. Numbly, Freddy likened the stench to that of the beach after a crunches, something they couldn’t readily identify. They held their breath and strained storm had washed up all sorts of garbage and rotting things onto the sand. Petrified to listen closer. It was a soft vocal sound, almost like hiccups, that rose and fell in with fear as the thing’s head came within a few feet of them, Freddy realized that they pitch. They stood frozen in the hallway for almost thirty whole seconds before they had been wrong about something else. They hadn’t thought that it had a mouth, but up remembered that documentary they had watched with Arran that talked about the way close, they could see that below its eyes, among the shiny shifting black mass, there hyenas “laugh” when they’re hunting. was the ever darker void of a gaping, toothless maw, twice as big at their head. Some unstalled part of their brain told them screaming would be useless, because they were Freddy wasn’t sure what propelled them forward. Perhaps it was parental about to be swallowed whole. instinct. Their blood ran ice cold as they tiptoed as quietly as they could down the hall, the crinkling and jingling and laughing growing louder as they approached the living As Freddy felt a churning nausea from the rotten breath of the creature bring room. They could also hear a dull scraping, not unlike Flue’s claws on the hardwood. them back to their body, the thing began to laugh. The sound jolted every muscle in That made their heart sink, but they didn’t stop. They weren’t sure what to expect their body. That time, it was no hyena’s laugh. A sick echo of Arran’s laugh rang out when they turned the corner, and had no plan in mind when they finally did. so loud that Freddy nearly had to cover their ears. The boyish giggle was garbled and butchered, but undeniably his. Freddy trembled, stumbling backwards and hitting their It was perched on the coffee table, long arms dangling over the edge down to head on the wall as the thing laughed and laughed, the sound morphing as it stood the floor, tapping and hitting and grabbing at the tinsel toys and bell-lined plushies back at its full height. It began making an uncanny mockery of Freddy’s own laugh, so strewn about in front of them. It was hunched over, making it impossible to tell how loud they were sure the neighbors could hear. Its two long arms reemerged from the tall it was, but it’s folded legs looked easily twice as long as Freddy’s, and it’s angular stick-pile of limbs and reached down to gingerly pick up each of Flue’s toys in it’s crooked form concealed just how many other legs it might’ve had. It was shiny like many fingers, and, one by one, shoved them into its huge open mouth. It continued crude oil, and Freddy couldn’t tell if the surface of it was skin or fur or something else chuckling wildly in a chorus of Freddy’s and Arran’s voices, the sound garbled further from how it rippled as it tossed the toys back and forth, yipping quietly, long fingers by its branching arms shoving the toys down its throat. They swore they heard their leaving dark marks as it scraped the floor. It’s hands looked like tree branches, and it parents’ laughter in that cacophony, and some harsh imitations of Flue’s pitiful was only then that Freddy could hear the crunch of shifting bones underneath the meows. crinkle of the toys. Freddy only regained control over their movements as the thing took its first At first, Freddy didn’t think the thing had a face, but after a moment of step, though it was much faster than they were. All at once, it began to move towards continuing to play, it noticed them standing at the edge of the living room, and it them. They were barely able to scramble out of the way before the creature scampered looked over at them. It took Freddy a moment to understand that the irregular lump out of the living room and darted past them, carried on its long legs, fanning out its that had turned towards them was a head, and even longer to figure out that it did many limbs to push itself along the walls, laughing all the way. indeed have eyes, but that the black pupils were so dilated that they almost completely eclipsed the irises. The creature’s pupils shrunk as it focussed on them, becoming little When the laughter faded into silence, Freddy felt safe enough to follow the black holes in two bulging spheres of shifting opalescent color the size of softballs black scratch marks on the walls and floor and ceiling that traced the creature’s path. A staring right at them. A dense quiet sucked up all the air in the room as the thing shiver passed over them as they stood before the back door, which was sitting wide turned its attention away from the toys and began to unfurl several limbs that had been open. about the artists about the artists featured soft scrawl artists featured guest artists JellyfishMoon72​ (they/them) / I’m a cartoon obsessed comic artist and my favourite Gabby​ (they/she) / age: 19 / location: toronto / fav medium: wax crayons!! / things to write are friends being wholesome and gay people saying “I love you” to description of practice: illustrator. i like to make zines and comics too! / previous each other, with a pinch of hurt/comfort because we love coping mechanisms. I’m publication: “still growing zine” a personal zine about my journey with identity! / currently making a Pokemon comic based off Sun and Moon because Alola deserved halloween costume this year: myself / fun fact: i currently have an obsession with better writing and characters, as well as a comic about an aroace witch who becomes bidding on ebay best friends with an incubus, leading to shenanigans and hijinks. I’m allergic to @slugtrain (instagram) chocolate but that never stops me from consuming every coffee crisp in my vicinity. slugtrain.storenvy.com @JellyfishMoon72 (instagram, tumblr, twitter) Lassiter​ (he/him or they/them) / I'm a queer college student who loves all types of Leo ​(he/him and they/them) / Hello! I'm Leo. I'm an artist and writer, but these days I horror from Scooby doo to Silent Hill! My favorite candy is jolly ranchers, I'm cursed mainly stick to spray paint, like the piece I've submitted. I work out of my garage (with by several deities and my favorite pastime is worrying about whether or not I a gas mask on and the door open for safety) and have made over 100 pieces over the remembered to turn off the oven. past few years. I even make timelapses of my process on TikTok! My favorite candy @bumblingbabooshka (tumblr) and @vermilliondeer (instagram) has to be chocolate. All chocolate. Halloween may be a week away but that doesn't mean I have a costume planned! I will probably do some facepaint and mess around Moe​ (he/him) is a multidisciplinary artist and professional slacker. His favorite candy without an official plan this year. is sweet tarts ropes (strawberry flavor). He likes drawing little zines, watching horror @ChameleonFootS (tumblr, instagram, tiktok, facebook page) movies, and making a mess. Moe primarily works in ink, oil pastel, acrylic paint, and [email protected] watercolor. @alternativeproject (instagram) and @alternativeprojectdraws (tumblr) V.M. Heebs​ (they/them) is a canadian multimedia artist, writer, & experimental storyteller twenty years in the making. their diverse body of work includes digital & traditional illustration, poetry, & fiction, among other explorations into how to tell stories in ways that are as unique and peculiar as the tales they present. they’re a big fan of halloween, horror, monsters, and sweets. their favorite candies are nerds rope & sponge toffee, and this halloween they will assume their ultimate form as gomez addams. @hee-blee-art / @vmheebs (tumblr) and @heebleeart (instagram) [email protected] / redbubble.com/people/gm-w about the soft scrawl collective the soft scrawl collective is a group of writers, poets, and artists with a shared love of creative writing. the collective is composed of com/passionate, curious, and creative individuals collaborating with the goal of and growing as makers and humans. the collective was formed in spring 2020 and this is their first published project. soft scrawl is eager to continue working with other writers, artists, & creators on projects like ​Kerosene Hall-o-zine​ to create more zines and beyond in the future! email [email protected] for any inquiries / follow @softscrawl on tumblr