Vacant Retort

A facade in blood.

A memory without moments.

My sin it sinks in.

Her words cut like a knife across my throat.

A devil for the first day she said, an angel for the last.

It was bitterness.

It was hate.

For thee who holds my hand, won’t sow my seed.

The bitch.

How broken I am.

How flatulent I have become.

Yes you heard my words true.

Even a demon cry in the end.

So take this breath.

Spread your wings.

Don’t sin.

Don’t break.

Don’t leave a mark.

Tiresome and worthless.

For the end to the start.

Awash In A Sea Of Red

Whispered sonnets in my ear.

Words wrapped in feelings I fear.

Tales of darkness.

Tales of dread.

Mistrust.

Murder.

Seas of red.

Blood.

Innards scatter before me.

I see the future I dare not see.

I witness my fate.

I see my doom.

The beast of darkness.

It’s crude womb.

I’m reborn in its image.

I’m darkness personified.

The killer.

The betrayer.

Awash in a sea of red.

My rebirth.

My death.

My forever face.

My darkness.

My sin forever more shown to me as it takes me in within itself.

My twisted child.

My written words.

My trap.

My fate.

Outside The Reaches Of My Eyes

I want to ask you a question.

It’s nothing personal I swear.

It’s more of a question about how aware you are of the world around you.

For you see, there is something dark just outside the reaches of my vision. 

Something with shape.

Something with form.

It hasn’t always been there.

Because I remember a time when it was not there.

But now all I ever see is something following me.

Slowly edging closer.

Reaching out from another plane.

Breaking through to seal our doom.

Tell me you see it.

Tell me it follows you too.

Don’t let it just be me.

Don’t let me be the only one.

That the wickedness.

The beast.

The first-born child.

The Roundhead, it still comes.

Just A Thing – Short Story

“I said it was a thing, I told you. And you thought I was crazy! You all DID!” Martin declares at the top of his voice.

“The only thing you’ll be right about if you don’t shut your mouth will be how everyone thinks you’re weird,” Samantha snaps back as she grabs Martin by the arm and drags him back down into his seat.

He smiles broadly, “What, you don’t want everyone to know their truth? You don’t want everyone to know how right that I was that it was what I thought it was, and not what everyone else thought it was?”

“No,” she hisses as she tightens her grip on his arm. “Just sit down, and be quiet. When the time is right you can tell the whole world how right you were, but it’s not that time at the moment.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m the one who was right and not you, I can see it in your eyes. Just let it go, and face the fact I’m finally right about something!” He says as he pulls himself free from her grip and leaps to his feet once again. “Do not fear what I have to say dear people, for I hold no ill will towards any one of you for calling me a fool and a liar. I beg your understanding, and ask only for you to allow me one simple request of a favor when I knock upon your door one day.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP MARION!” A voices yells out from within the crowded room.

“Who says that? Who blindly ignores the words if truth even they are spoken to them? Come forth and show yourself coward!” Martian yells back quickly, saliva frothing in the corner of his mouth.

“For Christ sake, I said it choir boy!” A large brute of a man says as he gets to his feet while a path clears quickly between them. “Do you have a problem with that MARION?” He says with a grin upon his face as he cracks his knuckles then his eyes widen and he falls lifeless to the floor. 

Martin quickly looks back to Samantha, “I told you  it was a thing, I said so and you didn’t believe me! NONE OF YOU DID!”

Eye See It – Short Story

“It’s better this way,” Jerald says as he places a hand over her eyes.

“Better for who?” She asks, her voice void of emotion. He stares at her lips and feels his own tremble. For the first time in a vast amount of time he feels uneasy in his decision.

“You know it is not my right to disrespect what must be,” he says as he places the barrel of his revolver against her forehead.

“Can you at least do me the dignity of telling me what must be, because I have no idea.”

He removes his hand and stares into her tear filled eyes. “Don’t play the innocent one now. YOU KNOW WHY WE’RE BOTH HERE!” He yells as he digs the barrel into her forehead.

“You’re stuck in a deluded mindset Jerald, one that has not only consumed your once brilliant mind but has also allowed you to see things that have no rhyme or reason for belonging. Come and sit, share with me these delusions and I will help you see the light of the truth.”

The bullets rip through her skull as if it were a balloon, showering Jerald with a sea of red. He runs a forearm across his face, using his shirts sleeve to wipe the blood from his eyes like a cloth.

“The truth is all I see woman. Every morning when I wake I see it. Every night before I close my eyes I see it. I see through the lies we have been told.”

“A lie is only as good as the truth it covers, what lie do you wish was true?” A disembodied voice asks softly.

Jerald’s bottom lip quivers once more as tears run down his face. “Every morning when I wake I see it,” he says as he places the guns barrel to his temple. “Every night before I close my eyes I see it,” he says as he pulls the trigger.

My Mother Knew My Darkness – Short Story

“What if I could show you something wonderful, something I could not explain to you in any words on how I did it. Something that would change the very center of your being. Would you care to see this? Would you allow yourself to take in what I am showing you, without doubt or question? Would you dare to believe?” Harry says as he looks around at the millions of silent eyes as they stare at him.

He smiles broadly as he sits back in an old cracked, worn leather chair and places the lip of a pipe in his mouth before taking several quick puffs, surrounding himself in smoke almost instantaneously.

“When I was a boy my mother believed I was something different, she believed I was evil, a spawn of the devil. No one believed her, especially not my father. They all put her ramblings down to her being a new mother and dealing with the life altering circumstances of becoming one. It wasn’t until the day my father returned home from work after being away for three weeks that he caught her holding my head in a sink full of water. After that the doctors diagnosed her with postpartum disorder, but frankly as I sit here with you today I have to be honest and say she wasn’t wrong,” he stops and takes another few puffs on his pipe before staring pensively out into the sea of eyes that meet his gaze once again.

“When I eventually left home, I broke my mothers heart. Not because she was heartbroken over me leaving her, but because I had killed her two French poodles. To be honest I didn’t just kill them, I stripped them of their succulent meat and served it to her on a bed of asparagus and mashed potatoes. She was never the same after that. It was only some months after that when my father called to say she had smashed her own skull in with a hammer from the tool shed. At first I was bitterly disappointed that she had robbed me of the task, but as time passed I realised the whore deserved nothing grander than to die so horribly by her own hands. It’s around this time I began the craving of attention. At first it was sex with whoever and wherever possible, but that soon lost it’s spark and I craved a different kind of attention. I dabbled in open mic nights, self-help meetings like Alcoholics Anonymous, talent contests, poetry readings, basically anything that would allow me time in front of an audience so I could spread my word, where I could infect every living thing with my dead touch. But each time I achieved my desired outcome I wanted more,” he stops and cradles the pipe as he folds one leg over the other and leans forward.

“Can you feel the craving?” He whispers as a million terrified eyes stare at him, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to do anything but feed his need for more.

Don’t Be That Guy – Short Story

“Your severance pay’s been sent to your bank, it’s more than I wanted to pay you but Terri wouldn’t let me go below the award rate. Basically I’m saying get the fuck out and never darken my door again!”

“Do you want some sort of reaction Phill? Some sort of plea for lenience? Because if you are I’ll let you know right now it’s not coming. The best years of my life have been wasted troweling through the shit you lay before me everyday. I’m happy to take what little you offer, because it’s only going to encourage me to build something better than you ever could,” Jack says as he leaps to his feet and thrusts his open hands onto the desks top.

Phill’s bottom lip trembles with anticipation as a surge of adrenaline courses through his veins. “You’re not a thinker Jackie, you’re a grunt and you’ll always be a grunt. This ridiculous idea you have buried deep inside your skull is a foolish idea at best. Accept your role in this world. Accept who you are and get on with life. You served MY company well, but in the end your own petty jealousies have ruined your future,” he says smiling broadly as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“At least I have one.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

“Shit Phill, I’m just a grunt. What would I know about threatening someone,” he says with a wry smile. “So why don’t you sit there like the quadruple amputee you always have been and enjoy your coffee, it’s what you’re good at. I mean we all have our roles to play, and by the looks of it your character has been written out of the show.”

Flights Of The Imagination – Short Story

David shakes the rain for his jacket and let’s out a shiver as a chill passes through his body.

“Mason, WAIT!” He calls out to his Alsatian, she curls her tail between her legs as sheepishly looks over towards him before making another dash for the dog door.

“For CHRIST sake! WAIT!” He calls out again, rushing towards her. She crouches down as he grabs her soaking wet jacket and quickly releases the velcro straps freeing her from the jackets grasp. “Good girl, on you trot,” he says as he messily pats her head before he pulls off his jacket and throws it over a line of rope that weaves itself between two of the small gazebos eves. He peels of his socks and shoes, followed by his jeans and tip toes in through the back door in a failed attempt at lessening the freezing touch of the tiles on his feet. As he walks into the kitchen he’s confronted by a man sitting at the kitchen table with a revolver pointed towards him.

“W-W-What the fuck? Who are you and where’s Margaret and Effie?” He demands, tightening his hands into shaking fists.

“Sit down Mister Taylor, and I’ll answer all your questions.”

“NO! Yo..”

“SIT DOWN!” The man yells as he interrupts David, who quickly sits down at the table, his face now a pale green.

“I’ve come a long way to have this conversation so I’d appreciate your  complete and devoted attention. Your family is safe, there is no cause for concern about their safety. It is you I’m here to see, and only you.”

“W-W-What do you want from me?”

“The walk you just took with your dog, the one in the rain. Did anything unusual happen?”

“Unusual? What do you mean by unusual?”

The man smiles, “I mean, did anything out of the ordinary happen? Did you come across a bag of money, or something like that?”

“N-N-No. W-W-Why?” David says as he swallows a mouthful of dry, razor-sharp air.

“Because you wished you did, didn’t you?”

“NO, that’s absurd. Why would I wish that?”

The man smiles again, “At eight thirty-seven pm, on the night of May the twenty-first, twenty-eighteen you made a mental note, one that you swore you would never forget. Do you remember it?”

“W-W-Wha….” David doesn’t get to finish as the man quickly interrupts again.

“You said to yourself that one day when the ability to travel through time exists you would come back to that moment and leave a briefcase full of money behind the phone booth that was in front of you at the time. Does that sound familiar now?” He says with a toothy grin, as he looks out over the rim of his glasses.

“W-W-Who are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m someone who upholds laws, and I’m here because in the future you never forgot that promise you made.”

My Brother Be The Judge And Jury – Short Story

The wind howls through the vacant buildings rooms like a force filled with a life of its own. As if it was searching each and every facet of the building for a hidden treasure, eventually dissipating into nothingness as it reaches a room which is shut of from its prying eyes. A crude black smoke twists and turns its way to life in the centre of the room slowly taking the shape of tall brooding man. He raises a clenched fists and pounds it against the door.

“Come out, come out there’s no place left to hide!” He says in a deep gravelly voice.

She tucks her legs into her chest she tight pulls them closer as she edges herself further into the corner of the room. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams.

He laughs softly, “You know I can’t do that Harzama. You know I’m bound by the oath I made eons ago to uphold the delicate rules that were set in place by our wayward father, regardless of the misdeeds and false betrayals he has cast upon me. So come, remove these wardings and open the door.”

“NO!” She screams back. “I’ll remove nothing! You blindly follow a despot. Hades is upon the soiled earthly plane and you still cast your own kind into the eternal pit without casting judgment upon yourself for these wrongs. Face the true enemy of all. Face yourself and see the darkness you have opened across the land.”

His face pulsates with a dark energy as he stretches then tightens his jaw and squeezes his eyes closed. “I am not the bringer of all this sister, I am but a pawn thrust upon the land with a wicked hand stuck up my arse like a hand puppet. I know full well the things I do, I just don’t care anymore.”

“Then that will be your undoing,” she says softly. Moments pass without rebuttal and she begins to quake with panic. “Brother?” She falls out. The still comes no answer. She burrows her head in between her legs and stares at the floor beneath her, shaking in unadulterated fear as the shadows within the room slowly begins to draw together.

Let Your Desires Be Known – Short Story

He places a hand gently on her shoulder and squeezes it rhythmically. “There is no need to be scared anymore, all has been taken care of. Tomorrow is a new beginning not only for you, but for your children as well. Be strong, for you are stronger than you truly know.”

She smiles and lays a hand on his. “Your words are far greater than any of your actions ever have been,” she says as she tightly squeezes his hand, the sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing are only drowned out by his cries of pain. “A pity they come too late.”

“PLEASE!” He screams in agony. “PLEASE FORGIVE MY SIN!”

“First you oppose me behind my back, while acting as a friend and confidant. Now you dress up this make-believe fictional world and try to manipulate the situation into something more that it ever could be. What did you truly hope to gain from this night? Did you think we would lay together? Did you think I would take your limpness and make it hard?”

“I NEVER WISHED ANY OF THOSE THINGS!” He screams as he falls to his knees.

“None? Really? Are you saying you do not desire this body to pleasure your deepest sins?” She asks, tightening her grip on his already crushed hand.

“NOO!” He screams.

“What is it about me that you do not desire?”

“W-W-WHAT?”

She smiles as her skin tone changes, her hair grows longer, curling as its colour darkens and her eyes change from dull blue to a vibrant green. “I can be anything, and everything you want me to be in that final moment, as you breathe your final breath.”