AUSTRALIAN HORROR AUTHOR
Colours shine,
against the backdrop,
repeated,
yet once,
there is no need,
but then there is,
we call the system broken,
but use it every day,
forget the failures,
forget the past,
tomorrow,
today,
wisdom in spades,
planting seeds for sins untold,
mysterious sold cheap,
society lost sleep,
dark rings beneath eyelids felt,
betrayals felt,
evermore,
we strive to find,
persistence,
weathered hands wrapped around,
judgement in the mirror,
punishment ours to own…
….The heavens open up, and the rain begins to pour down upon Turner. He casts a fevered look across to Cathy and the others before taking another step forward. The ground trembles with renewed vigour as fissures open up before him. He sucks breath after breath in, chocking on the river that washes down his face. He takes another step, and the ground before him open up, creating a cavalcade of disjointed steps that leads down into a pit of lava.
He casts another wayward glance back over to the others before leaping from step to step as if he was a character from a computer game. As he reaches the plateau, he lands awkwardly and tumbles helplessly forward, somehow narrowly avoiding the scorching sea of molten earth and ending up sprawled out at the base of a throne built from the bones of countless victims.
“The final step is always the trickiest,” a sinister voice snarls before him.
He bites down upon his bottom lip and looks with wide panicked eyes towards the ground below him. He clenches his hands into tightly wound fists, gripping handfuls of the scarred earth as he does. “Is that it?” he spits…..
a non-event,
stopping time,
haggard we are,
post marked date,
you are,
fickle,
tensioned dreams,
woven into rhyme,
a song,
within the system,
of another mind,
I ask for answer,
I see new days,
weathered windows on the seaside,
a bay,
today,
we shiver with excitement,
knowing the end,
will see me,
but will I see you….
….“I-I, I never spoke with a French accent, I must just have one of those voice,” Oliver says with a nervous smile painted across his pimple infested face.
“I doubt you have one of those voices,” she says with a heavy frown upon her lips “If I were to be honest, and that’s what I’m going to be. I’d be adding very much just before the word doubt and continuing on from there.”
“T-T-That’s f-for you to say, b-but I’m s-saying I n-never called you, a-and I never p-put on a f-fake French a-accent!” he spits back with a desperation.
“Liar!”
“S-Sez you. But I bet you, you can’t prove it!” he says with a smarmy grin and a nod of the head.
“What makes you think I need to prove it, why can’t I just cut you and be done with it?”
“You think you can just walk away, and I’ll let you go without recourse? You’ve insulted me, and my honour needs sedation!” he grunts as he smacks his chest like some steroid junky encouraging the next burst of adrenaline through their system.
She smiles wickedly, “You’re smoking your own product, cause I ain’t talking about walking away,” she says as she pulls a switchblade from her back pocket, and expertly wields it around like she was a young Tom Cruise throwing bottles around in that movie about dreaming and cocktails….
upon the flan,
the fragrance ran,
a race for wickedness,
dabbled in darkness,
a coat of arms,
December alarms,
we waited,
post-apocalyptic elated,
watching the snow fall,
disregarding the call,
ignoring,
deploring,
etching forward,
while heading starboard,
pick the fly screen free,
let the bugs be,
I owned it,
but I was unfit,
I couldn’t keep up,
my throat was cut,
damaged shit,
now here I sit,
focused on the ending,
cause it’s coming….
prudence for nature,
the cord cut,
take away from this a whatever,
your circumstances intertwined,
a shadow of summer,
rain in inches,
fail,
fornicate,
we see the sea of red,
wash it all away,
a purposeful conversation,
minutes too late,
I was wounded,
and now I’m whole,
time presented the pardon,
but i destroyed the soul,
we significantly,
we many,
we few,
the bird I was,
left long ago,
now I fester,
now I decay,
meanwhile….
….“The bridge between what we all want, and what we all get is far and wide. Especially when people like you and I become involved,” Curt says as he points the bloody baseball bat towards Paul. “See you and I, we are special individuals who exist outside the world these normal peoples build their lives in. They can’t see what we can see. Their little brains can’t handle the knowledge WE soak up every single minute, of EVERY single day! These drones exist to feed us, to enrich us. We OWE it to OURSELVES, to feast when the moment allows it! We OWE it to THEM, to fest when they foolishly drop their guard. To ignore these important moments, these making moments, would be worthy of THEM, not US!”
“W-What makes us special?”
The smile drops from Curt’s lips, and he tilts his head to the side while still pointing the baseball bat towards him. “I’ll forget you asked that RIDICULOUS question, brother. For acknowledging my own kin questioned such a fact, would almost be call for execution.”
“E-E-Execution? A-Are you losing your fucking SHIT right now in front of me?” he exclaims with wide eyes….
Gestapo like smiles,
given to a fly,
haggard on the inside,
dying outside,
you sail around the world,
in a boat made of sin,
your broad smile is noted,
no teeth shine from within,
sugar coated nipples,
powered coated lies,
death is unavoidable,
suicide is a choice,
we give,
we seethe,
we signify our existence,
in the void we call our lives,
I ask,
I answer,
I sin,
I see,
I promote the essence of humanity,
but deep inside,
I seethe some more,
I sin,
I’m sick,
I am,
no more…
a pure sentence turned into words,
meaningless,
skinned of their form,
a blistering cycle,
separated into sounds,
given to fly,
the bird man is down,
political suicide,
science without fear,
a knowledge of providence,
a nose without our sphere,
promise me the moon,
and give me the sun,
the death of my innocence,
the taste of my cum,
we wished on a miracle,
we prayed for rain,
purifying the earth,
we quested for perfection,
while perfection fell away..
….The lights explode one after the other, sending a shower of glass down upon Crockett. He lets out a muffled grunt, as he clumsily attempts to shield himself.
“IF YOU THINK A FEW BROKEN SHARDS OF GLASS IS GOING TO SCARE ME INTO ROLLING OVER ON TIGER, YOU’RE FUCKING WRONG!” he cries out.
“The glass is a little light entertainment for what is to follow.” she scoffs as she raises her hand into the air and tightly clenches it, commanding a thousand or more shards of glass to dig themselves into his flesh all at once.
“ALRIGHT!” he bellows in agony as he squeezes his eyes tightly closed. “ALRIGHT! YOU’VE MADE YOUR FUCKING POINT! I YIELD!”
Camellia smiles smugly as she pulls the red lollipop form her mouth and rolls her head around her neck with cracking recourse. “I didn’t think little old me, could easily persuade such a big boy like you, without breaking a sweat. Are you sure I’ve done enough to circumvent your frustrations and enable you to see my side of the equation?” she says as she pops the lollipop back into her mouth.
“YES! YES! ALRIGHT!” he screams, still squeezing his eyes tightly closed…..
I came,
he saw,
the witch was done,
a breath,
let go,
the war was won,
a song,
the beat,
dancing in the street,
a wad,
bent down,
humanity suffering defeat,
single words,
uttered once,
brought the world undone,
stuttered cries,
pillow tight,
a destined on the run,
the crooked hand of destiny,
avoided me posthumously…
tantrums yelled into the sky,
wishing for me to die,
to be the son of an immortal god,
betrayed by that fiendish sod,
a parley in insanity,
a bed in a storm,
fevered dreams sweat under bed,
coaxed away by the dead,
dragged beneath this hellish place,
sodom and gomorrah,
hell is earth,
we subject,
while survive,
the fittest,
not the smartest,
big brother get your facts right,
sin city for the worthless,
but is life worth it?
….“You treat this moment as if it were a game, and that nothing will be ill effected from anything that comes after it. But it’s not the way things play out, it’s something more than a game, and everything that follows will be different, although you won’t have to worry how fifteenth it will be, because you won’t be here to witness it.” Danika sways through a twisted grin that ropes itself over half of her face. Her tongue flicks out of her mouth like a beast’s tail, slapping itself across her lips before disappearing back in her mouth.
“Y-Y-You can’t s-seriously expect me t-to be scared? I-I know what Syler s-said, a-and I know y-you won’t c-cross him.”
“Really? Do YOU think HE pulls my strings?” she says as her head rolls to the left and rests upon her shoulder, her wide eyes mocking him with their thrusting gaze.
“Y-Y-YES! O-Of course I-I do, s-s-so STOP trying t-to f-frighten me,” he stammers.
Her smile widens and her eyes rolls back into her skull, “Then you are more foolish than he said you were to be….
nothing at all,
nothing is all there is,
we can never have another sun rise,
we can never stare again into each other’s eyes,
they said I was a dreamer,
they said I was a fool,
but in the end I made it,
in the end I rule,
I wanted you to love me,
I wanted you to lie,
but in the end you gave me,
another reason to cry!
there was a careless whisper,
there was a wicked lie,
but in the end you killed me,
the moment that you died,
nothing at all,
I wanted nothing at all…
….The piano also bursts to harmonic life as Quentin drops his fingers down with poise and focused intent, before casting a smarmy smile across to Nathaniel. “They say a man who knows how to drive the keys of a piano without actually concentrating on the keys themselves, but the music they play, is a man worth keeping in your life,” he almost sings as his fingers crawl over the keys like a ballerina performing the dance of the sugar plumb fairy. “It was my mother who sought the instrument out, hoping to break through my lack of social skills with a talent that encouraged that which I lacked, she was ahead of her time,” he says as he glances across the room towards the taxidermied remains of his mother, posed in full latex getup, including piercings, chains, and a conveniently placed whip. “A fool, but ahead of the other fools in her peer group. You see dear Nathaniel, I savoured the demise of others more than I did hers, and to be honest, I never really wanted her dead, it was purely circumstantial. I was angry and she was condescending in the fallacies of her diplomatic mediation into my anger, so I decided then and there to hang her on the wall with my other displays.” he triumphantly roars with wild wide eyes as he thrusts his fingers with a purposeful vigour into the keys, building his memento towards the ensuring crescendo…..
pick my performance,
select my disaster tv ,
cameras,
flashing lights,
corrective lenses,
shits all tight,
we blast through cages,
lift the ages,
dying to be,
but cannot see,
I gave you victory in a hand basket,
you lastly sought it,
when we retort it,
I never touched it,
but fucking burnt it,
but here’s the issue,
fucker use some tissue..
sea green eyes,
that’s what she saw with,
sharp and precise,
no lord or man,
no sea to sow,
a voyage damned,
harlequin,
a jokester,
forevermore,
wisdom undone,
I gave them hope,
when there was none.
we wickedly spoke,
independent,
yet as one,
the taste,
the saltiness,
a glory,
bathed,
done…
cute transformation,
from a cat to a kitten,
you stuttered nicely,
but you lied better,
I gave it a chance,
to be a legend,
but you fooled me twice,
and thrice for colour,
pulsating syndromes,
a bone of plenty,
wither away like a cancer,
what makes it harder,
is that your better,
not than this,
but the person you pretend to be..
we don’t see that we’re helpless,
frozen in the world of a tomorrow that will never be,
throwing light on fiction,
instead of trusting in the fact,
dessert spoon sized granules of shit,
broken in the tide of time,
we wished for something impossible,
for we wished to wish,
a silly step,
made into something beautiful,
a woman in red,
a devil in blue,
a wish to wish,
a mistake from me,
to you…
….“It’s FARKING stark, that’s what it is, and nothing any of you PRICKS can say will change my FUCKING mind about it!” Shaun spits venomously as he holds the blood drenched knife out towards them in a shaking hand.
Theodore smiles broadly and raises his hands into the air, while a sea of red continues to grow from his stomach. “Such a violin playing moment,” he says in obvious jest as he looks around at the others, then back to Shaun. “It would break my heart not to have one, if I had one that is.”
“W-What?” Shaun stammers as he shakes his head in a moment of confusion. “D-Do you mean it b-breaks your h-heart not h-having a violin or that y-you don’t h-have a heart?”
Theodore shrugs his shoulders and smiles wryly. “Does it matter which, for they both lead to the same ending.”
“OF COURSE IT FUCKING MATTERS!” Shaun snaps with renewed vigour, darting the knife towards them aggressively once more. “CONTEX ALWAYS MATTERS!”
“And that is why you’ll die, and I will continue, for I see the bigger picture while you are focused on the miniature and meaningless.”….