's 2013 Horror Write-off:

" Oh, Brother "

Submitted by Erickson Warne-Coles

It started with a spat, probably a stupid one, and Martin wished his brother had never been born. He woke the next morning to ragged breathing coming from his brother's bed. He turned to it. There wasn't a bed. There was a wheelchair, and inside was something. Green and cracked skin, a swollen head limping to one side, and an almost skeletal face with crooked teeth and milky white eyes. A blanket tucked in behind the shoulders covered the rest of it, though one bony arm was uncovered and hooked up to an IV. Martin screamed.

Dad ran in the room. "What's wrong?"

"That!" Martin pointed.

As dad looked at the thing, his look of concern changed to confusion. "... What?"

"What is it?!"

"Oh, for God's sake. Martin, don't joke like that. I thought you were hurt or something."


Martin watched with paranoia as his father changed his "brother". He laid lifeless and stiff on the table. His diaper was full of black, wet chunks. Martin was sure he saw a centipede crawl out of them.

"Is mom out?" Martin asked. He hadn't seen her all day.

His father stopped changing the thing to glare at him for moment. "What did I tell you earlier today about those kinds of jokes?"


A week passed. Martin avoided his brother. Stared at him, mostly. Eventually he worked up the nerve to get closer. The smell wasn't as putrid as he expected. More stale. Very slowly, Martin moved his hand to touch his brother's arm.

His brother grabbed Martin's hand. Martin let out a cry of surprise. He tried to pull his hand away, but his brother's stiff arm barely moved. In a panic, Martin grabbed the arm roughly with his other hand and pulled hard. It tore away like paper. A few weak spurts of blood flew out his brother's dry body before slowing to a trickle.

Martin fell backwards and stared in shock. His brother started heaving and wheezing and coughing frantically. His disembodied arm still clung to Martin.


Martin was leaving the house. The young adult looked at the brother he was saying goodbye to. Tumorous masses had grown where his arm was missing. His back was arched, stuck above the bed. His neck had elongated and was pulled down by an enlarged, malformed head.


Martin and his fiancé were visiting his brother. His head was under his back and his limbs were following. Lumps covered one half of his torso and were slowly climbing up and down an arm and a leg and over to the other side of his torso.


Martin was lying in a hospital bed. He was sharing the room with his brother again. On the other bed was a ball of contorted limbs and green, rotting, lumpy flesh. Black fluid seeped out from the bottom of it. A white eye peered out inside the heap.

Martin stewed knowing he might die before this fucker. He didn't want to die listening that ragged breathing he tried so hard to get away from.