Superstition validates the words,
fear encouraged the belief,
thirteen is the number of the witch,
darkness is the devil,
red seas of blood is its thrall,
saturation of the senses,
manipulation of the soul,
death,
rebirth,
destruction,
everything you are,
everything you’ve been,
is all leading up,
to the final phase,
the final defiance,
humanity’s final stand.
If you want to know how this story started, you can read about it HERE.
“ENOUGH!” She yells, holding her hands out commandingly, the room falls silent, except for one man, who continues to laugh loudly, as the girl in his arms tries to wriggle free.
“Come on honey, I’ve got what you need, just reach into my pocket and pull it out, I promise I won’t hurt you, unless of course, that’s what you want. Then I’ll make you fuckin…” it’s then he realizes that all eyes are on him, and the room stands in silence, he smiles nervously, as he feels his lip break out in a sweat. “W-What the fuck is everyone looking at?”
“Kevin,” she says, standing a few feet away from him, the crowd parts, allowing them to meet eyes, his lip now trembles and his smile is replaced with a twisted, guilty grimace.
“S-S-S-Sal, is there a prob-problem?” He mutters, tightening his grip on the girl.
Slowly she makes her way towards him, each step, graceful, mesmerizing, every set of eyes follow her, until she stops inches from where he sits, leaning down she grasps his arm, that holds the girl against him, “I’m not one for repeating myself. You know that, don’t you?”
“Y-Y-Yeah, course I do Sal, everyone knows when you say something, you mean it, cou….”
“Then why did you fail to listen? Why do you challenge my authority?”
“S-S-Sal, honey, I…” He doesn’t get to finish, as she pulls a blade free from her side and slices though his arm, severing it, he screams in agony. “Oh my god, y-y-you cut it off, you fucking cut it off!” He yells out in agony as blood spews from the stump where his arm once was.
“I warned you Kevin, I told you what would happen if you touched her again, what I’d do to you,” she says, as she looks around the room as Kevin falls to the floor in an ever growing pool of blood. “My word, my law, all who ignore, DIE!” She yells.
For Matthew’s next false 50 word story, he went to issue 83 of Fear In Fear Magazine, and chose his words from a story called My Word Is Law, below you can read the short that was posted.
“Oh my god, y-y-you cut it off, you fucking cut it off!” He yells out in agony as blood spews from the stump where his arm once was.
“I warned you Kevin, I told you what would happen if you touched her again, what I’d do to you,” she says.
If you’re interested in reading the original story, you can go HERE, once again Matthew said it was part of WordPress’ Daily Prompt to try and fish new followers.
You’re more than welcome, as always if inspiration hits, to expand the story yourself, all I ask is that you post a link in the comments below so I can showcase it on the blog.
Marty
Don’t judge me, don’t criticize my choices, what I do, I do because I have to, not because I want to.
Right now, at this moment I should be aboard my flight, heading towards my past, heading to Sydney, but instead I’m still here, trying to deal with everything that happened last night, or this morning, really depends how you look at time I guess.
I was visited again last night, by the mysterious shadow that seems to haunt my dreams. It was sometime around 3:00am when I woke and felt its presence, like I have the few nights before. I laid there, watching it, watch me, I swallowed, didn’t make any sudden movements and told it, as calmly as I could to leave. It just stood there, watching, not moving, I repeated the words again, told it to leave, this was my home, and it was not wanted. Then, for the first time since it appeared, it moved. It was a slight movement, nothing grand or revealing, but enough to send my heart racing. Its head moved to the side, it wasn’t a fluid movement either, it was like an animated cartoon, missing several cells, it skipped images, and its head turned to the side, like how a dog looks at you when it’s trying to figure out what you’re saying. I felt the sweat bead on my forehead, my hands were instantly clammy, and I had the urge to piss as my stomach twisted like a washing machine on its final cycle.
For minutes we both stayed there, locked in this moment, and then I uttered the words again for it to leave, again it showed no indication of understanding me. I stammered, spluttered, and shook with fear as I forced myself up into a sitting position, I yelled this time, told it to leave, said it was unwanted, this was my home and I wanted it out. That’s when it lurched up like a cobra, it’s size grew until it filled the room with its shape and then it came at me, I tried to scream, but it was jamming itself down my throat, that’s when I heard it, 3 words, repeated over and over again, ‘WRITE MY STORY’ it said, then I opened my eyes and the room was empty, I leapt out of bed, alone as the clock flicked over to 6:00am.
I’m still trying to figure out if it was a dream or if it really happened, a month ago I would’ve told you it was a dream, now, I’m not sure, maybe it’s always been there but I’ve just been too fucked up to notice it until now, shit, I have no idea. Anyway, if that was all it was, I’d say it was a dream, but, there’s a rash, an itchy, dark, pus filled rash, that I think’s spreading up my left leg. I’ll go to my GP tomorrow and have him look at it, maybe it’s always been there too, maybe it’s nothing. I don’t know to be honest, all I know is I can’t leave, I can’t endanger anyone if it’s something more than my imagination playing tricks on me.
Marty
Days,
not weeks,
can you taste my darkness?
Can you feel my touch?
Does it burn?
Does it itch?
Soon you will know how it feels,
when I swallow your sin,
and you join me in the darkness,
when you become my messenger of death,
do you feel my touch?
Does it excite you?
For soon,
it will be too late,
soon you will know the true face of,
THE ROUNDHEAD!
Downwards,
deeper,
fourteen,
what does it mean?
more than a number,
more than a threat,
fourteen days remain,
fourteen days until it comes,
but what comes?
what threatens everything?
what threatens all?
a darkness,
a beast,
the first,
the expelled,
the failed son,
soon you will see,
soon it will be,
so say your prayers,
and kiss your soul,
your sin,
goodbye.
If you want to know how this story started, you can read about it HERE.
“This isn’t a sandwich, this is two pieces of bread with heaven shoved between them! How did you, a never has been, come up with a filing so mouthwatering?” She asks as she takes another enormous bite.
He smiles as he leans in towards her, “First, I cut Jerry’s throat.”
“What?” She says, as the blood runs from her face and her mouth drops open.
He smile broadens, “I binged watched Jamie Oliver on iview cockface.”
Slowly, her cheeks turn reddish, and her brow furrows, “Jerk,” she says landing a solid left punch into his bicep.
“You asked for it Sal,” he says grabbing his arm tightly.
“Well, tell me,” she says, taking another bite, “What’s in it? And don’t be a fucktard about it this time.”
“The ham, cheese and tomatoes are Wollies brought, the lettuce and cucumber I got at the market, and the beetroot I pickled myself, but it’s the sauce that makes it work,” he says slamming a metal bucket on the table, she peers uneasily over the rim, and fills her stomach turn.
“What in the hell is that?” She says with a shaking finger, pointing at the contents.
“What that? It’s rhubarb root,” he says.
“No, that?” She says.
“Oh, cultured bread mould, I grew it in some petri dishes myself, fascinating thing mould, one of the most underrat…..”
She quickly interrupts him, grabbing a bone from the sauce mixture and shakes it at him,”For god sake Timmy, this, what the hell is THIS!” She yells, her frustration more than obvious now.
“Oh, that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “That’s Jerry’s femur,” he says unperturbed, “apparently, according to some research, marrow located in the femur is rich with flavor.”
For Matthew’s next false 50 word story, he went to issue 198 of Fear In Fear Magazine, and chose his words from a story called The Secret Ingredient, below you can read the short that was posted.
“This isn’t a sandwich, this is two pieces of bread with heaven shoved between them! How did you, a never has been, come up with a filing so mouthwatering?” She asks as she takes another enormous bite.
He smiles as he leans in towards her, “First, I cut Jerry’s throat.”
If you’re interested in reading the original story, you can go HERE, this time, not only did Matthew rename it, but he also said it was part of WordPress’ Daily Prompt, I’m sure he did this to try and fish new followers.
You’re more than welcome, as always if inspiration hits, to expand the story yourself, all I ask is that you post a link in the comments below so I can showcase it on the blog.
Marty
Tomorrow morning I fly across the strait, across a quarter of this great land, and face my past, face my mistakes, my greatest mistakes, head on.
To say that I’m not worried would be lying, I’m petrified, stressed, and on top of that, this house is giving me bad vibes.
Last night, when I finally managed to settle enough to sleep, I woke, no more than 5 minutes later, only to find myself sitting at the kitchen bench, a cigarette burning in the ashtray before me, a glass of bourbon, neat, the way I like it, and blood, dripping from the bench, running across the floor, and into the pantry, I started shaking uncontrollably, broke out in a sweat, I-I-I, I downed the glass, I know I shouldn’t’ even, I’d been clean for 5 weeks, and it felt good, but as the liquid ran down my throat, I felt better. I slowly got to my feet and walked over to the pantry door, I need to work out the best way to explain the feeling I had, maybe, it was more a memory, maybe something more.
I gripped the handle and pulled it open, that’s when I woke up. This time back in bed, it was morning, and obviously, whatever that was, it wasn’t real. That’s before I saw the empty glass and an astray full of cigarette butts, I can tell you, I almost lost my shit, I almost ripped the party door off, my heart was in my mouth, but there was nothing unexpected in their.
Anyway, I don’t know how to explain any of what happened last night, all I can do is put it down to nerves about tomorrow, my subconscious trying to find an outlet that’s manifesting itself in my dreams, causing me to sleep walk maybe?
Who knows, all I know is tomorrow his happening, it has to, otherwise, what else is there?
Marty
Darkness invades you,
as I thrust myself inside,
planting my seed like a fertile woman takes man’s spawn,
the warmth of it,
fills your very being,
then I tear,
I rip,
I take,
and I do not stop,
my darkness is your only friend,
my darkness owns you,
becomes you,
and then,
you call forth the next to fall at my knees,
and take my seed of darkness,
for I am it that was first-born,
I am it without sin,
and I’ll feed on yours until,
Gods end.
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