M Is For…..

I’m working on something for another blog, it’s an idea that is starting to crystallize, but, I don’t know if I’m getting carried away with the set up, or just doing what I normally do, which is have too much fun with dialogue… Anyway, I thought I would share the beginning of my idea. It may change many times before it’s posted, but, when it does, I’ll let you know and you can be the judge on if it works out the way I hope it will.

 

Cheers,

 

Matt

 

He looks over toward him, the king, or, so he thinks, and allows a sneer to protrude from his mouth.

“Don’t even think it,” a voice hisses in his ear, he turns quickly.

“Why not? We’re as good as dead anyway, why not go out on our feet, fighting, than screaming like Wills?”

“Because at least Wills had a god damn plan man, he wanted to escape, you just thinking about dying, wanting it, that ain’t no way to play this game.”

He laughs softly, “Game? This all a game to you Conner?”

“It’s all a game man, life. You win some, you lose some, but you play it none the less, you play to win on every hand, and damn me if sometimes the best wins are the wins you ain’t supposed to win.”

“Fifteen minutes ago you said Wills was a dumb son of a bitch, and now you’re saying he was playing it smart?”

“I never said that stupid, crazy eyes fucker was smart, I’m just saying he had a plan to survive. Sure, it didn’t pan out the way he planned, but think what someone with brains could do, how far a smart son of an ugly mother like you could manage,” he says, nodding his head approvingly, his eyes wide with excitement. “Fuck Custer, you could take down everything, bring the self-proclaimed king HIMSELF to his knees. Then make HIM run the maze, MAKE HIM face his medieval pet, like he does to everyone else.”

Custer shakes his head, wearing a smiled laced with sarcasm, “You’re the crazy one. No one’s ever made it out of this place alive, that thing, his medieval pet, as you so politely put it, is unstoppable, un-killable, and un-fucking believable. What hope would I have that others who were stronger, faster and god damn smarter than me didn’t?”

“Fucked if I know man, but one things fo’ damn sure. I’m going to enjoy watching it,” he says as he stands up, nods his head as if to music, then pouts his lips and spins around dancing, throwing an arm in the air, and posing for a few seconds, “YO! SAMMY! I GOT A MOTHERFUCKER HERE WHO IS DOWN FOR WHAT YOUR SWEET, SWEET MAMMA IS PUTTING OUT!” He yells out, the room falls into silence, as they all stare his way. Custer looks up, gritting his teeth together, and clenching his hands into fists as Conner looks down at him, smiling. “Aw, don’t take it the wrong way man, we all pay the same price in the end, the only difference is, my day isn’t today.”

My Choice Through Dying Eyes

 They told me there was nothing I could do, the cancer was too far gone, my hope, or even desire for hope, was non-existent.

The first few days were hard, I fought with everyone, dug holes throughout my life, pushed everyone in my life away, turned them against me.

I know, your thinking stupid thoughts right now. Like, why would someone facing an impossible future, destroy every relationship their short, uninteresting life had going for it?

I’ll tell you my answer, I’ll let you see my side of things, and then, when this is over, maybe you’ll see why, and understand.

I’d lived what I would call a carefree, simple life, where I waded through it undaunted by each and every twist and turn, I’d just gone with the flow. In doing that, anyone who really meant anything to me, who’d been important to me physically, important to me emotionally, had long flown the coup, and all that was left were the worthless, shitstains that life had handed nothing but bitterness to, these people, these things I’d called friends, or, at the very lest, people I knew for too long and accepted they were the only sort I’d ever associate with, they required no maintenance, no care, nothing, and I was fine with that.

When I discovered the cancer, the shit eating away at me, I changed, I realised, these people were the cause, these maggots were eating away at me like the cancer, and I pushed back, I became heartless, these fucks had taken too much, gained too much, while I had nothing.

I lived a life worth nothing, with worthless people, people I didn’t want around me in the end, plain and simple, because, in the end, I fucking hated them all, and they, well, they didn’t really like me either.

 

EVSign up to The Twisted Roads mailing list so you stay up to date with all the latest news, get free books as they become available, have the chance to read pre-release version of novels and more! So, don’t be late, don’t waste time, just click on the subscribe button, tell me who you are and our journey will begin.

Marty’s Story – Deadhead – Part One

The blade rips into his flesh as he cuts, using the knife like a saw, his bloody, torn flesh falls to the floor below him, and he laughs, staring at his reflection.

“It was the words that drew us in, it was the night that sealed our sins, the devil smiled from somewhere afar, as our hero burned the dying star, whispered words, vaulted sins, the devils work, forever, begins,” he says, the lights flicker, as energy snaps violently through them, as he continues to look into the mirror, the blood drips from his face into the sink, he grins, his face grotesque, ripped and torn into a mask, in the form of a demented smile, that is now carved in his flesh. With a shaky hand, he raises the bloody knife once more, stretching the skin around his eye with the other hand, then digs the blade in, and screams….

He feels his mouth go dry, nervously he grabs a glass that sits on the side of his desk, placing the sheet of paper down as he takes a large mouthful of the liquid, he feels the vodka burn his throat as it goes down and he lets out a hiss of satisfaction.

“I’ve read a lot….” He stops in his tracks as he takes a quick, sharp breath in, as he attempts to quell the burn from the vodka, hisses again, before pressing his lips together tightly. “I’ve read a god damn lot of shit you’ve wrote over the years Marty, but this has got to be the best fucking piece of writing you’ve ever placed on my desk,” he says looking over to Marty, who has a broad smile on his face.

“See Bernie, I told you it was worth the wait, it’s good right?” Marty says, slapping his hands together in excitement.

“It’s better than good, it’s wrong, fucked up, pushing the boundaries of good taste to the extreme wrong, now where’s the rest?”

“It’s coming,” he says leaning back in his seat.

“Coming? What the fuck do you think this is? I’ve got half an issue ready and waiting for this baby you’ve been gestating, now two days before the issues published you tell me its coming?”

“You said it yourself, it’s the best piece I’ve ever written, don’t you want the rest to be just as good?”

“Don’t throw my words back in my face Towns, it’s not good form, just tell me how long you need?”

“Another few days, four at the most, I wanna get it right, I want the whole thing to mesh perfectly.”

He empties the remainder of the glass into his mouth and sucks another quick, desperate breath of air in with it, hoping to dull the burn once again, “Two days, that’s all you’ve got, you don’t have it ready by then I’m going run with Jones’ story.”

“Jones? Seriously Bernie? You’d give that hack half an issue? Can’t you push it back a few days?” Marty says in shock, sitting up in his seat.

“He’s got something ready, you don’t, and two days is the best I can do. Templar’s tying my hands Marty, they’re cutting expenditure, the old man wants us to meet deadlines without fail, every issue,” he says pouring himself another glass, and filling Marty’s as well. “Mate between me, you and the bottle, they’re getting close to pulling the pin, I went to see the old man yesterday, fucker looks ready to run, he’s got that look, you know, crazy eyes and shit. I can’t push back now, it’s gotta be what it’s gotta be,” Bernie says quickly draining his glass once again.

“Fuck! Seriously? I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise it’ll be ready,” Marty says as he clenches his hands into tight fists.

Bernie lets out a loud, boisterous laugh, “Shouldn’t be too hard sport, you’ve got a killer start.”

“It’s not the start, it’s the end. I just thought jumping to the end at the start of the story gave it a, you know, a sorta fucked up twist, see what’s going to happen, before it all really begins,” he says, as he picks his glass up from the desk, letting the vodka dance around on his tongue, swishing it around in his mouth, before he swallows it.

“Sure you’re not being too cerebral for the readers? I mean, we’re no high-end magazine Marty, we’re penny dreadful shite, trying to pull a Stephen King might alienate the readers.”

“It’s clever I know, but the way it opens the story up, allows itself to connect straight to the ending makes it more fun. It gives you guts, gore, and a hell of a draw card to drag you in, you don’t like the idea?” Marty replies quickly.

“I get the whole trying to draw the reader in shit, I love that. It’s just sticking the end at the start, it’s more what they do in the movies, or big publications, not what we do in shock horror magazines mate,” Bernie says, filling their glasses again.

“Trust me, you’ll love it and so will the readers, you’ve always said it’s all about impact, well, this is it, I want the reader drawn in straight away, I want them to WANNA know what’s gonna happen next, why he’s carving up his face. I mean, don’t you?”

“Okay, okay, you’ve won me over you little shit so stop trying to sell it to me. Does Wilkinson have a cover yet?”

“You know Gareth, he’s working his way there, it’ll be ready.”

Bernie swivels in his chair and leans back, resting the empty glass on his enormous stomach, “So tell me, oh great sage, how are you going to cut the ending so it flows into the beginning?”

“Easy,” Marty says as he empties his glass again, slamming it in the desk. “I’m going to smash cut it straight in, no bullshit, just straight into it,” he says with a twisted smile, as the vodka burns down his throat, all the way to his stomach.

Day 365 – To Pass Into Glory – 50 Word Story Expanded

“Don’t be a cry baby Sasha, you passed the test, you’re in. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Sasha looks up from her blood covered hands, tears running down her face, “This wasn’t a test, it was murder!”

She laughs, “It’s only murder if they find a body, now, eat.”

“A-A-Are you serious? I have to eat it all?”

“No, of course not,” she says.

“Thank god, I thought you really wanted me eat him,” she says, collapsing backwards.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, you will eat him, but you won’t do it alone, we feast tonight, nothing should be wasted, and once we have taken him into us, we will gain his strength, his wisdom, which clearly isn’t at the top of my list, considering he was thinking more with his dick than his grey matter,” she says with a evil smile.

Sasha begins to break down in tears, looking over, towards Lance’s lifeless body, his dead pale eyes stare towards her, and she feels her stomach twist and turn, then empties its contents onto the ground beneath her.

“That’s it girl, let out all the vile waste you gave inside you, make room for the feast,” she says running her hands softly through Sasha’s hair.

“That’s not what I’m doing you crazy bitch! I’m vomiting because this whole fucking idea makes me sick, I didn’t even want to bring him here, you made me, you threatened me, I’ll go to the police, I’ll tell them eve…..” she doesn’t get to finish her rant as a blade rips through the back of her neck and out through her throat, chocking her, she convulses, ganging on her own blood, as the woman looks down on her, smiling.

“Don’t worry Sasha, you’re not going to miss out on the feast, in fact you’re going to be part of it!”

Day 364 – Don’t Start What You Can’t Finish – 50 Word Story Expanded

“Sorry little brother, but business, is business,” he says as he pulls the trigger, the blast echoes around Timmy’s head for what seems like an eternity, and he falls to his knees, blood quickly forming a thick, sticky puddle beneath him, as that smiling mother fucker looks down at him.

“Y-Y-You, didn’t need to,” he stammers softly, his words lost within the void inside what was once his head.

“Of course I did Timmy, what other choice did I have? You gave me little, betraying me for that bitch and her friends, we are the perfect beasts, created by mother to rule this world, not act like the sheep who inherited it from her,” he says, as spit flies out of his mouth along with the venomous words.

“B-B-But you didn’t need to really do it, the threat was enough, you didn’t really need to go through with it,” Timmy says softly, his eyes widening as he watches the sea of blood continue to grow beneath him.

“Yeah I did buddy boy, you know full well if I’d just said, oh okay, that’s all right, I’ll let it go, we’re all cool, it would’ve been the beginning of the end, right?”

“B-B-But, how do you know?” He says, looking over to his brother, his face pale, his eyes glazed over, weary.

“Because little brother, since the dawn of fucking time, when man worked out how to get someone else to jerk them off and get away with it, that’s how I know,” he says with a smirk.

“But, that, that do-doesn’t ma-ma-m-m-make any sense.”

“Of course it make sense Timmy, you’d realize that, if half your head wasn’t missing, it’ll sink in, or out, whatever the result,” he stops, looks down at the blood that is now pooling underneath his shoes and back to Timmy. “Awful lot of blood for a small fart isn’t it?” he says, Timmy slowly looks down and turns his head to the side.

“Yeah, it is, you’d think, I’d be dead by now?”

“You’d think, I mean, I’ve killed gods before, normally I’d use a sword, or a bus, never a gun, maybe I need to, ummmm, shoot you again,” he says holding the barrel of the gun to Timmy’s skull. “You ready?”

“I still think you didn’t need to….” another shot rips through his head and he sways from side to side with the impact.

“How’d that one go?”

“I-I-I-It hurt, bu-bu-but, I’m still here,” he replies slowly.

“Mum always told me you were special, old hag was right, wait here, I’ll go find a sword, or a bus, or something,” he says, wandering off, perplexed, searching the ruins of the old building, while Timmy continues to sway from side to side, as the pool of blood grows.

 

 

 

Day 363 – Only A Love Game – 50 Word Story Expanded

“I could never, not now, not after all this,” he says through groggy eyes.

“Why? We’re made to be together, literally created by heaven and earth for one reason, to bond, don’t you feel it? Can’t you see it?” She says pressing a hand against his dirty, bruised chest, he grabs her hand and thrust it away.

“You’re FUCKING crazy, to think that just proves it. WE weren’t made to be together you half-wit, we fucked, that’s it, I was never interested in anything else,” he says through clenched teeth.

She slap him across the face, “Is this really all you have to say for yourself? Is this all that’s left between us?” She asks.

“Fuck you! You lock me up in this prison, yet you expect me to love you, what a fool you are, and how I’ll love taking your head from your shoulders!”

“You’re just like the rest, a whore!” She spits raking him across the face with her fingernails, tearing chunks of skin free, the blood glistens in the light as he hisses in pain.

“You fucking bitch!” He yells leaping towards her, but instead, crashes to the ground in a heap as the chains reach their limit.

“We could’ve been something wonderful, we could’ve made the skies sing, but,” she says, looking down at him, her face twisted with anger, as she tightens her grip on a the hilt of a large blade. “You spat in the face of true love, degrading what we had, degrading me, for that there can only be one punishment.”

“Y-Y-You’re fucking crazy, we went out three times, you were the one who invited me in, you made the first move honey, I just went with the flow. No wonder you’re single, freaks like you belong in zoos, not dating fucking sites!” He screams as he forces himself up, onto his knees.

“I thought you loved me,” she says fighting back the tears.

“Lady, ain’t no one ever going to love you, you fuck….” he stops dead in his tracks as she drives the knifes blade deep into the back of his head, he lets out a final, desperate, strained gasp, then collapses to the floor, where she drives the blade into him again and again, screaming wildly as she does, until she finally stumbles to her knees and sits sobbing in an ever going pool of his blood.

“You could’ve been the one,” she says softly.

Day 362 – It Waits In The Basement – YouChallenge Short Story

This weeks YouChallenge is based on the story idea where I must tell a story about 2 young kids who find something in the neighbors basement. The original story it was taken from was called It Waits In The Basement, which appeared in issue 365 of Fear In Fear Magazine, you can read it HERE.

 

“I’m telling you Kyle, no bullshit, I saw them going at it with my own eyes, Kendra and Mr Wells, not more than five minutes ago!” He yells at his younger brother, who rolls over and pretends to be asleep.

“Kyle, for god sake, you’ve got to come and have a look, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t, always wondering what they looked like out in the open,” he says, Kyle turns over and stares at Lincoln, who’s smile stretches from one ear to the other.

“What make you think I wanna see them?”

“Were twins Kyle, I know you wanna see them because I wanna see them again, and I’ve already saw them once, so you’ll at let want to see them once if not twice as well!” Lincoln says enthusiastically.

“You promise you’re not kidding?”

“WHY THE HELL WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS?” He says in shock.

“Because last week you swear you saw Franny Williams get abducted by a vampire, and it turned out to be a sack of shit, so, forgive me if I don’t believe you now,” he says, rolling back away.

“Don’t be like that, you know I joke around, and it was funny to see old man Jeffery running down the road screaming they’re coming, they’re coming to get us all,” he says with a laugh, while Kyle chuckles softly as well.

“Still doesn’t change the fact you could be bullshitting again.”

“I swear to you, Kendra is next door, in the basement, with Mr Wells and they’re doing it, naked!” He says.

Kyle lets out a sigh and sits up in his bed, while his brother leaps in the air overjoyed.

“Come on, before it’s too late!” He says, grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging him out the window, across the yard, and over into Mr Well’s property, they both scurry quickly over towards a small window that peers into the basement of Mr Well’s house. The room is dark, and more than likely empty, Kyle smacks Lincoln in the arm.

“Arsehat!”

“What? I swear they we….” He stop in his track as they both hear moaning coming from somewhere within the basement, they both quickly peer through the window again, this time noticing the shadowy forms of what can only be Kendra and Mr Well’s thrusting themselves at each other in the firey passions of love.

“See, I fucking told you,” Lincoln says proudly, “I fucking told you man, it’s just a pity the lights are out, you’re really missing a sight Ky…” it’s then that he notices Kyle taking off towards the back entrance to Mr Well’s house. “Kyle!” He calls out softly, “Kyle, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna turn on the light, if it’s as good as you said, I’m not gonna be ripped off, not after you dragged me out of bed for it!” He calls back.

“Don’t be stupid man, you can sorta make out,” he stops talking once he’s sure Kyle has made his way in through the back door of house, he smiles as he looks back through the basement window as he sees a figure move down the stairs and then slowly creep towards the couple who are still intertwined and thrusting vigorously at each other.

“So predictable,” Lincoln whispers to himself as he watches his brother reach out and grab a handful of one of Kendra’s breasts, before running out of the room, up the stairs, out the house, past him, and into their backyard, Lincoln, follows quickly behind.

“What the hell Kyle? I thought you were turning on the light? Not groping her tits!”

“I was, but then, well, I thought, maybe it’d last longer if I got a real good feel.”

“Well? Don’t keep it all to yourself, how’d they feel?”

“Not like I imagined, they were harder, saggier than I would’ve thought,” he says with a confused look on his face, one that turns into a frown as he sees the look on Lincoln’s. “Who’s boob did I just grab?”

“You don’t wanna know,” Lincoln says as he bursts out loud with fits of laughter.

“Lincoln, who…” He freezes in place, as he hears the front door of Mr Well’s house open, and his mother walks out, they laugh,  say goodnight, and she leaves, all the while, Lincoln rolls around on the ground, laughing himself stupid, as Kyle feels his stomach turn, and tears start cascading down his face.