Day 19 – It’s All In The Fine Print II – Short Story

Damon Welford slams the door shut and slowly steps backwards and falls to the ground in a heap, tears rolling down his cheeks, his moment of self-pity is interrupted by the sound of clapping coming from the lounge room, he nervously turns his head and his rage intensifies, sitting on the couch is a smug looking Marcus.

“You, you fucking prick, what have you done?” Damon yells as he scrambles to his feet and charges at Marcuse, who easily sends him crashing into the couch, he pushes Damon’s face into the pillows and pulls back violently on his arm.

“I gave you what you asked for, nothing more,” Marcus says as he pulls back on Damon’s arm once more before he releases the emotional Damon to sink into the couch. “You wanted to go back to before the accident, knowing what you know now and I facilitated that, the accident will now never take place and your disability will never become, isn’t that what you asked for?”

“You fucking twisted it all, this isn’t what I wanted, not exactly!”

“Well, I’m sorry it isn’t exactly the way you wanted it, but it is what you asked for, and it’s what I gave you, the agoraphobia, that’s  not my problem, it wasn’t part of the deal, had you asked me to cure your agoraphobia you would still be sitting in your chair, jerking off to teenage girls on the internet.”

“Fuck you, fix it, take me back!”

“Sorry, that’s an impossibility, the stream has been changed, going forward is just impossible,” Marcus says. “But we have grander things to achieve, you and I.”

“What the hell are you talking about, you expect me to help you now, well, that’s not going to happen, I’m going to sue you for everything, and believe me I’ve got the money to make the fight hurt you, more than it will hurt me.”

Marcus laughs, “You had the money, when you were in your little den, feeling sorry about your little legs being all useless, but here, today, you have nothing but what your father gives you. Or have you forgotten that the accident that took your legs also removed everyone who stood in your way to the fortune your family made? Without the accident your father, mother and older brother still live, so you have nothing.”

“You son of a fucking bitch you played me!” Damon yells as he forces himself to his feet, and Marcus shoves him, face first, back into the pillows of the couch.

“You got what you wanted, now I take my payment, but, like I said, it’s nothing from you, I’m going to take your fathers fortune, and I’m going to leave you with nothing, sure I used you, but not because I needed what you had, you’re just collateral damage Damon, nothing more, nothing less,” he hisses in his ear and shoves him down as he walks across the room.

“You won’t get anything, I’ll tell him everything, he’ll never deal with you, he’ll crush you and I’ll be the one laughing.”

“It’s too late, the deal is almost done, and you, well, you’re not going to be bothering me one little bit, I mean, you’ve got a lot of things to deal with, and that agoraphobia, that’s got to be a bit to get on top of, I mean, do you know it sends some people so far over the edge they commit suicide?”

“Are you threatening my life now?”

Marcus laughs again, “I don’t need to threaten anything, I keep promises, that is all, nothing more, nothing less, I have this gift you see, well it’s not really a gift, it’s something entirely different, but it gives me the ability to travel through time, up here,” he says tapping his head. “All the memories, experiences, fears and dare I say, damage, that is done to the old noggin, well it follows you everywhere, like a bad smell, you can’t escape it, you can’t change it, you can only live with it, of course with some tweaking things can be eased, or as in your case, increased,” he says with a smile.

“What, what do you mean increased? What the fuck have you done to me?” Damon yells as he rushes at Marcus and grabs him by the collar and slams him into the wall. “What have you done to me?”

Marcus smiles, “You’ll find out soon enough,” he says as he raise his arm and looks at his watch. ”In fact, you should be finding out, right about… now.”

Damon releases his grip on Marcus and falls to the floor screaming, clutching his head, “What h-have you d-d-d-done to m-m-me?” he yells.

“Nothing, well actually, not nothing, I mean, in reality I’ve done a lot, but in your case, I really, didn’t do a lot, I just gave you a little something to help the walls close in, to help the sanity slip further away.”

“Why, why d-d-d-do this? I-I-I-I’ll gi-give yo-ou-you it a-a-all, p-p-p-le-please,” Damon screams.

“No, you won’t, we’ve been down this road before Damon, you may not remember it, but I do. That’s the glory of moving through time my friend, you can always hit replay.”



Day 18 – Phone Home – Short Story

The small house shakes violently and Ollie tumbles off the couch and crashes into a pile of beer cans that litter the floor, he scrambles to his feet and looks around the room as everything vibrates vigorously, photos crash to the ground, furniture jitters around the room and the first thought that goes through Ollie’s alcohol frazzled mind is an earthquake so he awkwardly stumbles underneath an archway and braces himself, screaming at the top of his lungs. Suddenly bright lights shine through all the windows and from underneath all the outside doorways and the shaking stops. Ollie stands firmly underneath the archway and tries to make sense of it all, slapping himself across the face several times to make sure he is awake. He slowly creeps into the living room, shielding his eyes from the light when all the doors and windows crash in, showering the rooms of the house with splintered pieces of glass and wood. Ollie screams out in shock, and fear, as he dives to the ground and huddles into a ball, screaming at the top of his lungs for it all to stop, and then, as if on his commands, everything falls silent.

Several moments pass before Ollie works up the courage to look up from where he sits, and he sees shapes moving in the light outside, Ollie’s frazzled brain at first deciphers the shapes as human and calls out, “Is that you Jethro?”

But no answer comes and the shapes continue to move, now less resembling humans and more like bobble head figures, with three of them moving towards the door.

“If you think you’re being funny Jethro, you’re not!” He yells out, and again waits for an answer, but still no answer comes. He swallows a dry, lumpy, pocket of air, “Is this because I told you about those stories about those fucking brain suckers? Are you trying to play with my head, you son of a bitch?” He yells as the three shapes make their way through the doorway, Ollie’s mouth drops open as the three beings, he can only describe as aliens enter the room.

His look of shock turns to a look of excitement, “I knew it, I knew you fuckers were real, I knew I wasn’t losing my mind!” He yells as they slowly make their way towards him, and several more make their way in from the opposite side. “I knew I wasn’t imagining you pieces of shit, I knew you were coming in and doing all sorts of weird experiments on me, but this time you fuckers, this time I’m ready!” He yells as he pulls a lever next to the archway and metal gates drop from over the door ways and windows, sealing them all in, the aliens panic as Ollie laughs and pulls another lever and metal mesh nets fall from the ceiling, trapping the aliens underneath them as a gas is spewed out from ducts in the floor, and Ollie, he stands over them as they all slowly fade away into unconsciousness laughing, “Phone home now ET, phone home now!”

One of the alien’s wake some time later and finds itself strapped to a table and frantically tries to free itself as Ollie walks out of the darkness with a circular saw in his hand, “What’s a matter ET, you scared somethings going to be shoved up your arse like you did to me? You got no worries about that ET, I just hope you’ve had all your shots, because I don’t know where this here shit’s been, but I sure god damn know where it’s going to go!” He yells as he starts up the saw.



Day 17 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act IV

She sits on the edge of the bed and takes a drag on her cigarette, staring at the smashed screen in front of her. Dried blood covers her face and hands, the cowboy’s naked body lies on the floor, his stomach split open. She jumps as there is a knock at the door and quickly gets to her feet. Peering through the peephole, she lets out a relaxed breath and turns the handle as the woman barges her way in, almost knocking Sonya to the ground. She looks down at the body and lets out a groan of disappointment and frustration.

“Shit Sonya it hasn’t even been twelve hours since they found the last poor fucker you gutted, I thought you promised me you were going to fucking give this a break, the whole fucking city is looking for you and you just keep fucking acting like you don’t give a shit!” The woman says as she throws a bag to the ground, next to the body.

“He was the same as the rest, he fucking deserved it, they all fucking deserve what they get.”

“They all do apparently, I notice the set, you obviously caught his little fuck you across the channels?”

“He’s just pushing back, trying to goad me into making a mistake, but it’s not working, the fool failed at pushing any of my buttons.”

“The set says something entirely different honey,” Sally says. “I know why you started this, but for the life of me I can’t understand why the fucking hell you’re still going at it, move on, you’ve done what you wanted to achieve, wasn’t that enough?”

“No, it’s obviously not is it, he’s still out there, he’s still acting like he did nothing wrong, but so are they, the worthless fucks who prey on the weak.”

“Honey, its game over time, just fucking kill him and be done with it all. Maybe then I can get back to some sort of normal life instead of waiting for the phone to ring as I’ve done for the past few weeks, you know I do have a life, and I’ve got better thing to do on a Saturday night, like my man, for instance, than cleaning up your shit.”

“I know Sally, and I’m sorry, really, I am. But remember who signed on for this, you were the one who said you would help me, pushed me, forced me to let you in, and now that I have, you don’t want to be? I just can’t stop it, I’m saving everyone else from what I suffered, or even worse,” she says. “Why let them continue hurting others without a care when I can make sure their lies and deception end, with me.”

“I know what I signed up for, but you’ve got to give me something back, you’ve done nothing to stop all this insane shit. Fuck, all I’ve become is your fucking clean up woman, which is bullshit by the way.”

Sonya places a hand on Sally’s face and gently caresses her cheek, “You know you mean more than that to me.”

Sally brushes her hand away, “Remind me why the fuck we’re still friends?”

“Because, we are.”

Sally looks deep into Sonya’s eyes, and her anger softens, and she smiles, “Look, I was serious before though, why don’t you just kill him, end it all and move on, be free of all this shit?”

“I will, soon, I’ve just got a loose end or two to tie up and then his time will be up.”

“What loose ends do you have beside him? We tracked all the fuckers from that night down at the start of all this, you’ve never mentioned anyone else.”

“Her name is Maddison Gray.”

“Who the fuck is Maddison Gray?”

“She’s the one who’s responsible for everything in my life being shit, she’s the one who really needs to pay.”

“So what the fuck are you wasting time with these stupid fucks for? Let’s go find this Maddison Gray bitch, and kill her.”

“I don’t need to find her, I’ve always known where she is,” Sonya says. “I’ve never let her out of my site, not even for a minute”

Sally jumps to her feet in frustration and excitement, “Then let’s go, fuck cleaning this piece of shit up, he can rot for all I care. Let’s go send this Maddison Gray to the grave and then take mister hot shot out once and for all, even if it’s just so I can get some fucking sleep.”

Sonya looks up at Sally and smiles, “Maybe you’re right, maybe I need to stop sitting on this and just do it.” She gets to her feet and places a hand on Sally’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, without you I wouldn’t have come so far,” she says as she drives a blade deep into her stomach, Sally looks at her in horror. “Sorry,” she says as she pulls the blade up into her chest.

Sally’s lifeless body crashes to the floor and Sonya looks down on her with sadness as she wipes away a tear as it runs down her face, ‘Don’t go losing it now, not when you’re so close. Let’s just get this over with and then Jackson, it’s going to be you and me in a race to the finish, a race I will win.’



Day 16 – The Chest – Short Story

She sits in the attic and stares at the large dusty, cobweb covered chest and nervously wipes them away from around the lock and places a key inside, and her heart skips a beat as it turns. For more years than she can remember her mother never let her near the chest, but in the last days of her life she told Clara that once she had passed she was to open the chest, and whatever she found inside was hers. Her father places a hand on her shoulder and she looks up at him, tears run down his face, she smiles and places a hand on his lap.

“Are you sure, Mum never let me look inside it, never once, what was she hiding?”

“Open it and see,” he says softly. “But remember what we talked about, remember what Mum said, don’t be afraid, just follow your heart.”

“I know,” she says as she shuffles forward and opens the chest, a bright blue light shines from within, coming from a strange rock that sits next to a single letter and a photo, besides that the chest is empty, she looks back at her father and he nods his head.

“Read it,” he says as he gets to his feet, she can see in his eyes he is uncomfortable.

“Where are you going?”

“Your mother was very particular about this part, she said you had to be alone when you read the letter,” he says. “I’ll go make us a brew,” he says as he shuffles out of the room.

Slowly she reaches in and picks up the letter and the photo, it’s of her mother and her father, how young they both seemed, how happy they are. She feels something run through her body, a cold breeze, or something like that, and then she opens the letter up and begins to read.

‘My Dearest Clara,

God, this sounds crazy, to be writing this letter, to tell you how important this moment is. No one should ever have to know what you are about to know, let alone believe, but this is for lack of a better word, the truth you need to know. The rock that sits in this chest is something remarkable, something amazing, and the journey you will take will be one that will not only change your life, but it will also create it. The photo you hold is of your father and I after we first met, destiny you could say played a hand in it all, and love. Before I met your father I knew there was something greater out there for me, something amazing, and like you are now, I had not yet found it until I met him. The rock made that happen, where did it come from? I don’t know, it just always was there, some paradox on time allowed it to happen, as it did you, I know, it’s hard to understand, it’s even harder to explain. But know this, my love for you is more than a mother’s love, and your father, his love for you is more than a father’s. Follow your heart, let destiny guide you and know that there is no mistakes, there is only fate.


Love, always,



Clara sits and stares at the letter and then to the photo, realises for the first time how identical she looks like her mother, when she was younger, she places the letter and the photo on the floor and peers into the chest, at the strange glowing rock.

“What are you trying to tell me Mum?” She says aloud as she reaches into the chest and picks up the rock, she feels a warmth spread through her body from the rock and then her head begins to spins violently and she crashes to the floor with a thud, as the blackness takes her she sees her father standing in the doorway of the attic.

She must have laid there for hours before she regained consciousness, the moon now shining in through the attic window and she forces herself to her knees, the open chest sits in front of her and the rock, now black and cold sits in the centre of it. It’s then that she notices how clean the chest is, the cobwebs and dust gone, did her father clean it and leave her on the floor? She gets to her feet and walks towards the doorway, stopping for a moment, she looks around the room and notices how uncluttered the room is, and her mind races.

“What is going on?” She says as she opens the door, as a young man opens the door from the other side as well, they both jump in shock and Clara crashes to the ground, she stares at him in shock and realises how familiar he looks, in fact, he looks like her father did in the photograph.



Day 15 – A Secret – Short Story

He clutches his father’s hand tightly and wipes the tears from his eyes, he watches as his father, this man who has always been such a huge, strong man, relies now on machines to keep him alive. How quickly this all happened, only a day or two ago they were sitting out on his deck reminiscing about his mother, and now he lies in the bed, unmoving, as the machines constantly beep as they control most of his functions, including his breathing. A nurse comes into the room, and she checks over the machines, they lock eyes and she give him a faint smile, but her eyes show her separation, no real feeling in them, she smiles because she believes it’s the right thing to do. Henry tightens his grip on his father’s hand and returns her fake smile with his own.

“Can I get you anything?” She asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No, thanks, I don’t need anything right now,” he replies, she nods her head and leaves them alone again, he feels his father grip his hand and he looks up and stares into his drug addled eyes, he lets more tears go and his father tightens his grip and his eyes widen, and he tries desperately to speak, but all the tubes going down his throat and up his nose make it impossible, tears run down his father’s face and then, he begins to violently spasm. Henry screams for the nurse to return as his father jerks back suddenly and then lies still and silent as the machines let out high pitch, unending squeals.

The next few days are a blur for Henry, full of meetings he doesn’t want to be part of, visits from family member he hasn’t seen in years and his ex-wife constantly calling him to make sure he’s ok, the day of his father’s funeral is over quickly, more people he hasn’t seen for year, more hugs, kisses on the cheeks and offers of help with anything, but he just wants everyone to fade away and be alone, to grieve.

He wakes to the sound of banging on the door and looks at his watch, three thirty-two in the morning, ‘Who the fuck?’ The banging continues and he slowly gets up off the couch and staggers to the door and opens it, his jaw drops, standing before him is his mother, she slaps him across the face and storms in the room, he stands there still dumbfounded.

“Close the door,” she says abruptly. “We need to talk.”

He closes the door slowly and turns back to face his mother, “I’m dreaming right?”

“Sure if that’s going to make you feel better, sure, this is all a dream.”

“OK, what the fuck?”

“Language Henry, we never brought you up to have such a vile tongue, now tell me, why did you do it?”

“Do it? Do what?”

“Cremate him, why the hell did you cremate your fathers body?”

“That was his decision, I followed all his instructions to the T, he requested cremation.”

“Bullshit!” his mother says as she silently sits on the couch, a tear runs down her face.

“What the hell is going on?” Henry asks as he sits in a chair opposite her.

“Nothing, this is all a dream remember,” his mother says before she breaks down into tears, Henry is to her side instantly and cradles his mother. “Why, why would he do such a thing, why would he leave me?”

“What is happening, mum, you died fifteen years ago, you left us remember, now you’re both gone, I’m the one alone.”

“Stop thinking about yourself Henry, what you think you know and what you really know are two different things,” she replies as she wipes her face with a tissue. “I just want to know why he did it, did he leave anything, a letter, something you haven’t opened yet?”

“Nothing, I cleaned out the house last week, there’s no letter, no nothing, only, well only except for this old family video that he gave to me the day he went into hospital,” he says as he picks the disc up from the coffee table.

“Put it on,” she says urgently, Henry follows her instructions and the video plays, at first it’s what he expected, old family videos, from before his mother dies, then it cuts to his father, he looks concerned and stares down the barrel of the camera.

“Hello son, I’m guessing you’re having a hard time dealing with everything right now, I wish there was some way I could help you deal with this all, but I can’t, what happened, well it had to happen. Know that I love you, without you, the last fifteen or so years would have been nothing. Hello Victoria, I’m assuming you’re watching this too, I can only guess how angry you must be feeling right now, how betrayed, but I need to explain mys actions, I need you both to understand why I did, what I did,” he says as he clears his throat and wipes a tear from his eye. “I guess the first important thing you need to know Henry is how your mother is sitting beside you, how she can be alive, I would assume she has told you little to nothing about what she is, what we are, she was never very good with details,” his mother lets out a small laugh and clutches Henry’s hand, he looks down then up into his mothers eyes, she meets his gaze and gently pats his cheek. “I would have given anything to have this discussion with you, but I’m weak, and tired, so this way I can just tell you and not be afraid. And I guess the best place to start it with the an old Norwegian fable about the Draugen, or Again Walker,” he mother presses pause on the video and turns to her son, she cups his face in her hand.

“Are you sure you want to know what you really are?” she asks.

“This is still all a dream, right?” he asks nervously.







Day 14 – Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter One – Act III

Sonya stands at the bar and looks around the room, as soon as she locks eyes with him, she knows that tonight, he is the one, she can feel it between her legs, becoming moist at the thought of his touch. He casually makes his way towards her, both exchanging smiles.

“What’s a pretty thing like you, doing in a shithole like this?” he asks as he leans up against the bar, next to her.

“Not very original,” she says with a playful smile. “I would’ve thought someone like you could’ve come up with something more original to get me to go home with you.”

He lets out a laugh, “Honey, taking you home is the last thing on my mind. I was thinking we just head out back and I smash that fucking gorgeous arse of yours until you can’t walk.”

“You think you’re that good?”

“Eight inches good,” he says with a broad smile.

“Well, Mister Eight Inches Good, why don’t we leave this shithole, as you call it, and get better acquainted with each other elsewhere?”

“Fuck honey, I know you won’t believe it, but I just grew another two inches,” he says as he holds out his hand for her to take.

“Cowboy, you better have something mighty fine to replace all this hot air you’ve been filling me up with,” she says as she takes his hand.

“Honey, you’ve never seen anything like what I’ve got between my legs, I can guarantee that.”




Pine Crest Cemetery has been for the last 85 years a place where Law Enforcement officers who die in the line of duty call their final resting place. Superstition keeps most of the current officers away as it shows them what their future will eventually become and they believe in some small way this place is haunted by the ghosts of their past, the ones who never made it out, survivor’s guilt for most of it. For Gary, tonight is not the night to avoid the future or the past, he kneels at the base of a headstone and lays flowers beside it, he gently wipes away the dead flowers and grass that’s grown around the plaque, the words ‘Louise Melissa Jackson’ are written across the front of it. Gary takes a deep breath and sits down facing the headstone.

“Hi baby, you wouldn’t believe what sort of day I’ve had and I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit lately, it’s been pretty tough for me these past few months, I’ve got this psycho who keeps raking up the bodies and this city just keeps getting worse. I feel like I’m losing more of myself each day, losing who I was, I just wanted to come and let you know I still love you, and I think of you every day and one day I hope after all this is over, I’ll have done enough to earn my place by your side.”

Gary’s phone begins ringing and he pulls it out of his pocket, “Sorry it’s Danny,” he says as he answers it. “Do I need to even guess why you’re calling me?”

“I don’t think you should, tenths and seventh, you can’t miss us.”

“Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he hangs up the phone and looks into her disappointed eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, you know the last thing I want to do is go.”

“I know, but it’s who you are, it’s why I loved you.” she says.

“Next year, I’ll stay longer, I promise.”

“You don’t need to keep coming to see me, it wasn’t your fault what happened.”

“I don’t blame myself, I just never want to forget you,” Gary says as he wipes the tears from his face, he kisses his index finger and middle finger and presses them against the headstone.




Detective Sergeant Brian Wishwilson gets out of his cruiser and walks over to the deserted Lucaston Lookout and lights up a cigarette, he takes a long drag and relaxes as the drug hits where it needs to.

“You know those things will kill you?” a voice says from out of the shadows.

“Plenty of things will kill you” Wishwilson replies. “Strange place for a meeting, not the usual spot.”

“That’s because I’m not your regular contact.”

“So why the urgent call, the boss getting jumpy because of the shit that went down last week?”

“No, your boss, as you call him, is unaware of our little meeting detective. This is about you!” the man replies as he walks out of the shadows, dressed in black and holding a blaster towards Wishwilson.

“What the fuck?” Wishwilson goes for his blaster, but the man fires a shot that rips through his shoulder and sends him crashing to the ground. “Do you realise who I am, what you’re doing?”

“I know exactly who you are, so let’s have a talk about how dirty a cop you are.”




“I wish I had something new to tell you,” Danny says as he gets to his feet and stands beside Gary. “I hated calling you in, but I know you would have been more annoyed if I hadn’t.”

“It’s OK, over the last few years, if anything, she understands what I do, and she doesn’t hold it against me.”

“So where do we go from here, this sick fuck is a few steps away from being one of the worst serial killers we’ve dealt with in the last eight years, Gleeson mentioned pressure from upstairs earlier, but he pushed back because he doesn’t want to send the killer in a spin if you are taken off the case.”

“I know, Tralmane stuck his nose in earlier today, sniffed around like the piece of shit he is and then scurried away, Divisional won’t touch this unless it goes all kinds of sideways.”

“How long do you recon that will be?”

“A week, maybe less, our killer is fulfilling something, but the way the kills changed, the way they’ve evolved into what they are now, they are going to push the boundaries, challenge us more.”

“So you’re thinking our little friend is going up the ante?”

“Has to, everything evolves, and our killer will as well.”

“Then you’ve got to crack this case before they do.” A voice says from behind, Gary and Danny turn to face Superintendent Bill Gleeson, head of District-Three. The spotlight shines off his bald head as he runs a hand through his goatee, standing just over six feet tall and with the build of a man who enjoys his food, makes his silhouetted form look intimidating.

“Our killer needs to give us something first,” Gary replies.

“Or you give them something.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you do what you do best, piss them off,” Gleeson says as he points towards the news crews that stand on the outskirts of the police barrier. “I normally wouldn’t recommend it, and I’m not, but it’s an opportunity to push buttons I know you push well.”

“You’re the boss, and I expect the back lash I’m going to get will be minimal?”

“As minimal as I can make it, you get a result then it will disappear for good.”

Gary strides over to the media and they go into a frenzy, screaming out questions, fighting to get towards him and Gary holds up his hands.

“Steady on, this is going to be quick and to the point, so I hope you’re all ready because I’m not answering questions. This is directed at the piece of shit who you’ve called the Sunset Slasher. I’m going to get you, and when I do, the law is not going to be in the same room as you and I. In that room I will beat your pathetic, fat little face into a pulp, your little taunts, they don’t and will never scare me, and if you had balls you would come and face me you limp dick piece of shit.” With that he walks back towards Gleeson and Danny, the media screaming questions at Gary, but their words fall of deaf ears as he cares nothing for what they wish to know.



Working With The Flow

I decided that all the pretty little headers are nothing more than a distraction, and in some way, a time waster. If you can believe this, The Truck header took longer to get right than it took me to actually write the story. So after a few moments to think I decided that instead I will have a set standard header that will run through all the shorts, the YouChallenge shorts will have a different coloured version, but it will be of the same template. The only variation of course will be Lies of a Broken World, that will keep the header based off the books actual cover art. So let’s continue this adventure, week three begins tomorrow, so no time to sit and reflect yet, let’s get to six months before we do that.