winter has the light gone bright,
sequential order to be delivered last,
powerful rhythms given to fly,
journeys westward and nigh,
jewels covering the flaccid,
cream coming from the rich,
a time lost in thy potential,
gold paved along my road,
lead me to the temptation,
for I could give,
if I can go…
broken in the mirror we stand,
shards missing that should not be,
time awaiting a delivery,
cancelled payment from the last,
a stench wicked in the demon’s grasp,
we yearn to turn,
a sleeveless display,
hardly sleeping,
a world in decay,
my sinister reflection,
the glass covered floor,
away with the devil’s child we are,
while the earth lies cold,
and not mine…
over the window of tomorrows woes,
further in the endless throws,
passed back and forth,
like a joint,
sucked dry of incomplete sentences,
alarmed of the uncanny light,
we pivot forward,
we pivot right,
a dance unlike any other,
the dance of death,
my decaying lies,
smothered in the hands of time,
as it clutches me,
until I die…
“Redemption is something I can never have, now that you truly know my name,” he says as he looks across the room at her, and tries to smile, but it comes across as more of a sneer than a smile.
“You take great delight in this, don’t you?” she says, as her lips pout proudly outward, and her eyes dig at him like daggers.
“No, no I don’t take any delight in this, I had hoped that you would’ve never figured out the truth.”
“You wanted to live a lie, to live a false life forever?”
He laughs softly, “Forever is an overused word, I was hoping for a decade or two, until you died for natural causes, and not by my hand.”
“Then you must be so disappointed that we have found our way here so early, at my point of death.”
He smiles nervously, as his bottom lip trembles and beads of sweat break out on his brow. “I-I-I, I never meant for this to be the way things ended between us, for you.”
“Liar! You just told me you wished for this charade to last until my day of death, and now you renege on that very same statement. How much of a fool do you take me for?”
“I-I-I, I don’t take you for a fool, and I said I never wanted it to be by my hand.”
“But you are still going to go through with it, aren’t you?”
“You know I have to,” he says as he swallows an uneasy mouthful of air.
“Why? Because I know who you really are, or more to the point, who you’re not.”
He smiles nervously once again and laughs. “You profess to know more than you actually do, for if you truly knew who I was you wouldn’t be so calm.”
“You’re going to kill me regardless of my reaction, so it doesn’t matter what I do, it doesn’t matter what I say, the end will be what it will be.”
“Such profoundness from someone so unpredictable, however did you manage to hide such a formidable side of yourself from me for so long?”
“You were too concerned with hiding your own lies, that you couldn’t see through everyone else’s. You see my jaded love, you aren’t the only one running from your past.”
He pouts his lips together, and places a finger against them, sucking in a breath, as he rubs his forehead with the barrel of the revolver. “What secrets have you got hidden against your bosom?”
She smiles, and leans forward, running her tongue across her teeth. “My lie is nowhere as big as yours, so you needn’t worry yourself about it. Just do what you have to do, to protect what you need to protect.” she says, her words laced with sarcasm.
“Don’t belittle me woman, you are only tempting fate!” he snarls as he lowers the revolver towards her. “The hand of god will strike you down, and you will face his final judgement!”
She laughs, “Honey, I face god’s judgement on a daily basis, this isn’t anything new to me.”
He squints as the sweat stings his eyes, and he lets out a stuttered breath of exhaustion, as his finger squeezes the trigger, only for the world to stop. He sits there in silence for many minutes, unable to move, as the world around him sits in a frozen state of motionlessness, that is everything except her.
***
Follow the below link to purchase A Twisted Halloween 2020 to read all 31 five minute short stories.
Before you lies a piece of a puzzle far grander than you could ever know or imagine. For scrawled in blood upon the pages hidden within the above tome is stories twisted thirty-one in all, soaked in the embers of my insanity. Five minutes to glimpse inside the eyes of someone new, five minutes to answer, five minutes to sin, five minutes to do almost anything. A god, a demon, a harlot, a whore. A fascist, a killer, a sinner, a door. Death and division, humanity askew. A belfry of bats, a sea of black cats, so many moments out there to see, so many things you could see with me. So take a seat beside me and call it voodoo, because now you ride with me too…
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“It’s not like that,” he says as he throws himself onto the table that sits before him. Spit sprays from his mouth and showers her face, but she doesn’t register the spit hitting her, she only continues to smile.
“You have forfeited all and any ability to make alterations, and or claims now that twenty-four hours have passed since you signed your signature on the contract. There is little to anything that you, or I for that matter can do. It is suggested in the bylaws that if one does come forward with a complaint such as the one you have brought forward, that we once again address the original specifications of the agreement.” she smiles broadly, showing off her perfectly white teeth.
“But it’s NOT fair! What we agreed to was not what I originally asked for,” he says, the frustration oozing off each word.
“Any displeasure, or deviation from the original agreement should have been made within the first twenty-four hours, anythi….”
“TO HELL WITH YOUR FIRST TWENTY-FOUR HOUR BULLSHIT!” he screams slamming his fists into the table once more. “I was unaware there was any deviation or problem with the fucking thing until I got a good look at it!” he yells waving his hands towards her sporadically.
“It states in clause two of the agreement, that all goods must be checked by the purchaser within the first twenty-four hours after signature of the agreement. Otherwise any displeasure, and or deviation from the original agreement will not be covered by any form of warranty.” she says, the broad smile still plastered upon her lips.
“But it’s not FAIR!” he yells. “How was I to know there was going to be an issue? How was a supposed to know I should check every INCH of it before I took it home?”
“Because it states for that to be done in the contract you signed, and not only that.” she says with a smile, “You also signed box sixty-seven which states that you not only read the contract, but that you also fully understood the documents that you were signing.”
“No one EVER actually reads all that shit!” he says as he throws his hands in the air in frustration.
“But that’s why we required you to sign box sixty-seven, to ensure that you read and completely understand what you are signing.”
“FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! CAN I SPEAK TO A FUCKING HUMAN?” he yells.
“There is a three hundred and forty day wait to speak to a human operator, are you happy to be moved into the queue?”
“FINE!” he hisses in frustration as she disappears. The egg-shaped pod that he is sitting in slides into an enormous warehouse filled with thousands upon thousands of similar looking pods. As his pod comes to a stop behind another, he turns to the motionless girl who sits beside him and lets out another sigh of frustration. The girl jerks forward and turns to face him, smiling broadly.
“My love, whatever is the matter?” she asks as she places a hand on his lap, his face scrunches up and he pulls his hand away.
“I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME UNTIL WE GET RID OF THAT THING!” he bellows, her face drops and she frowns.
“You’re still unhappy about it, aren’t you?” she asks, “Is it because it’s bigger than yours?” she adds as she pulls her massive penis free from her pants.
***
Follow the below link to purchase A Twisted Halloween 2019 to read all 31 five minute short stories.
Before you lies a piece of a puzzle far grander than you could ever know or imagine. For scrawled in blood upon the pages hidden within the above tome is stories twisted thirty-one in all, soaked in the embers of my insanity. Five minutes to glimpse inside the eyes of someone new, five minutes to answer, five minutes to sin, five minutes to do almost anything. A god, a demon, a harlot, a whore. A fascist, a killer, a sinner, a door. Death and division, humanity askew. A belfry of bats, a sea of black cats, so many moments out there to see, so many things you could see with me. So take a seat beside me and call it voodoo, because now you ride with me too…
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Stay classy, what the fuck is it supposed to mean? I mean seriously, when some fucking numb skull gives you a wink and says, stay classy kid, how the fuck are you supposed to take it? I guess to really understand the meaning behind something, you really have to know what sort of situation it was used in, then you’d know what it was used to reference in the first place, and thus understand it’s end meaning.
Are you confused yet?
Well let me give you a quick rundown on my experience, and it starts and ends with local mobster, Frank Galboni. You see, old Frank gave me a wink and a click of his fingers and said those fucking words, stay classy, all while two of his goons had their pistols embedded in either side of my skull. Did I deserve to be in a position like that? Yeah maybe. See only a few short minutes before all this took place, I was one finger deep inside his eighteen-year-old daughter while her twenty-year-old sister blew me off. I was trapped within the perfect storm, and Frank walked in while I was letting lose my seed in her mouth, and that’s how I ended up on my knees, dick out and pistols to the head.
That’s when it all happened. As Frank was walking away, he turned to me, winked, clicked his fingers and said, ‘stay classy kid.’ Now I’ve got to be honest, those words confused the fuck out of me, because I couldn’t figure out if he were secretly patting me on the back for scoring the way I had with his two daughters or not. Everyone knows Galboni likes to play around on his wife with as many pieces of tail as he can. Not that she complains, she knows what he does but she wants for nothing, and she can have anyone she wants when she wants, and I know it’s true because I’ve been there. Two nights before all this happened, I turned up because an old pal of mine worked for Galboni and was trying to help me get some work. Anyway, the next thing I know I’m face deep between her legs, covered in her juices as she’s slobbering over my cock. Galboni didn’t have a problem with me that night, he even gave me a job out of how well I serviced his wife, so why crack the shits over me doing his daughters? But that’s all here nor there, the worst part is that I knew I should’ve just kept my mouth shut, but I needed to know what he meant by the stay classy remark. It was probably heightened by the fact that I knew his two goons were going to put their bullets into my skull, so I took a quick breath and called out.
“Mister Galboni, can I ask a question before your boys make a mess out of my head?” I called out, Galboni took his hand off the door handle and after a few seconds he turned around and stared me down.
“What?”
“The stay classy line, I’ve got to ask. Did you mean it as a good thing? Like you did good kid. I liked the way you scored with those bitches. Or did you mean it in a sarcastic Al Capone, your dead sort of way?”
“Seriously kid, did you just call my baby girls bitches?”
“I know, I know, it shouldn’t be what’s worrying me. I know it should be your boys and their toys that should be my real concern. But fuck me, I can’t get past that stay classy comment. Please, you’ve got to let me know what you meant?”
“Kid it meant nothing. It’s just a fucking saying you stupid FUCK!” he yelled as he drove a baseball bat down onto my head. I still don’t ever remember seeing him pick it up, but obviously he must have, from somewhere. Anyway, I felt the first two hits, and they hurt like fucking hell, but after that it was pretty much nothing. As I lay there, not feeling a thing, I couldn’t get that line out of my head, and that’s when it happened. The old fucker keeled over after he brought the tenth swing of the bat down upon my cracked open skull. Seems the godfather had a bad ticker and it just fucking stopped, too much stress I presume. The poor old fucker fell face down in a puddle of my blood, dead as a door nail. But it was in that moment that I finally understood, and I’ll tell you something, he looked fucking classy all the way.
***
Follow the below link to purchase A Twisted Halloween 2018 to read all 31 five minute short stories.
Before you lies a piece of a puzzle far grander than you could ever know or imagine. For scrawled in blood upon the pages hidden within the above tome is stories twisted thirty-one in all, soaked in the embers of my insanity. Five minutes to glimpse inside the eyes of someone new, five minutes to answer, five minutes to sin, five minutes to do almost anything. A god, a demon, a harlot, a whore. A fascist, a killer, a sinner, a door. Death and division, humanity askew. A belfry of bats, a sea of black cats, so many moments out there to see, so many things you could see with me. So take a seat beside me and call it voodoo, because now you ride with me too…
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press above to go and follow my Amazon Author Page
press above to go and keep up to date on book releases
“I don’t get it,” he says looking up from the tablet confused. She laughs, rolling her eyes and pouting her lips, mocking him.
“You of all people would have to be the one who says that,” she sighs, the smile dropping from her face. “Tell me Shakespeare, what don’t you get?”
He smiles nervously, “W-Well I guess my biggest problem is none of it makes sense, like totally none of it,” he says, fidgeting in his seat.
“You swinging for the nosebleed section with that one Romeo,” a voice says, while she stares at him blankly, as if she were frozen in time. He looks around the room searching for the owner of the voice, and slowly realises that the rest of the room is frozen in place as well. He tightens his eyes, peering out the window to the world beyond. Slowly his mouth drops open, everything and everyone seems locked in time, except of course him.
“W-W-What the fuck is g….”
“Oh please, can we avoid using profanity Nigel, that’s not how you were brought up, was it?” the voice interrupts, that’s when he sees the pale figure, dressed in a black flowing cloak that seems to wrap itself around its body, perched on the top rail of a chairs back, some tables away.
“W-W-W-What are you?” stutters Nigel.
“Shouldn’t that be, who are you?” it says, smiling broadly, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth.
Nigel screams and falls backwards in his seat, smashing his head on the floor. For a few moments the world explodes, pain tears through the back of his head. Black and white flashes encompass his view, and he begins mumbling incoherent words under his breath as he pulls himself uneasily to his feet, staring directly into the empty, lifeless eyes of the thing, as it sits, crouched on the top of his table.
“I was hoping for something a little less dramatic Nigel, but no, of course YOU had to pull a massive drama queen, didn’t you? Your head okay?”
“W-W-W-Who, who are y-y-y-you?” Nigel whispers rubbing the back of his head.
“Right, that’s a better place to start. My name is Belgaldoul, and I’m your, well, let’s say for ‘the sake of explanation, I’m your fairy god mother and I’m here to stop you making a grave mistake.”
“M-M-M-MY FAIRY GODMOTHER?”
“I know, I know, Disney lied about the wings, the little one-piece dresses, the long legs and those melons you children lust after. But that ain’t my fault, I mean I told him, honestly I did. Hell, I still remember the day like it happened five minutes ago, I said, Walt, the world ain’t gonna buy this slutty version, just give them the real deal, let them see us for what we really are, without all the sugar coating. But as you know, he did what he felt was right, and well fuck, everyone knows who the guy was, so maybe he was right. Anyway let’s not get caught up in all the bullshit, it’s so time-consuming, all you need to know is I am indeed your fairy godmother, if that’s how you want to refer to me, I’ve been called worse in the past,” Belgaldoul says, stuffing Nigel’s half eaten hamburger into his mouth.
“W-W-What d-d-do you want?”
Belgaldoul holds a hand up, as he chews quickly and swallows, letting out a gasp, almost as if he was struggling for air, choking on the poorly chewed burger. “SARAH!” he says desperately, as he grabs Nigel’s coke, and pours it down his throat, and gasps for air once again. “S-Sorry, eating is such a rare treat, I get carried away,” he says with an awkward smile, bits of the burger still firmly stuck in his rotten teeth.
Nigel stands there in silence, his face strains with confusion, his mouth opens and closes, his lips quiver, but no words come forth. Belgaldoul tilts his head to the side, curiously studying Nigel’s face, then begins to laugh, leaping down from the table.
“You humans are so entertaining, I sometimes forget what it’s like to be,” he says proudly.
“Y-You were like me? A person?”
Belgaldoul laughs louder this time, “YES! I was once like you, a person as you put it. An awfully long time ago, centuries I’m sure,” he pauses, and stares blankly off into the nothingness of space and time, before dragging himself back to the here and now with a shake of his head. He places a cold, rough hand on Nigel’s shoulder, and squeezes.
“But none of that is important, what is, is that you don’t tell her the truth, that you don’t ruin her dreams. For it will inadvertently cause your path to steer away from where you need to be, from where you must venture.”
“W-Where do I need to be?” Nigel asks softly.
Belgaldoul grabs Nigel’s head, and turns it towards Sarah, “With her you idiot,” he says.
“WHAT! SARAH? NO WAY! We’re just good friends, nothing else, and anyway, she’s not my type,” he says quickly. Belgaldoul laughs loudly again.
“Oh Nigel, you poor misguided fool. I see no bevy of available women hunting you down, all I see is the calluses on your palms from masturbating all too frequently. Look at her man, she wants you, why do you think she even gives you the time of day? Take a shot, you never know where fate may take you, if you do.”
“D-D-D-Do, do you know?” he asks softly.
“I know everything my friend, and trust me, hit that nerd before she wakes up and sees you for the loser you really are.”
***
Follow the below link to purchase A Twisted Halloween 2017 to read all 31 five minute short stories.
Before you lies a piece of a puzzle far grander than you could ever know or imagine. For scrawled in blood upon the pages hidden within the above tome is stories twisted thirty-one in all, soaked in the embers of my insanity. Five minutes to glimpse inside the eyes of someone new, five minutes to answer, five minutes to sin, five minutes to do almost anything. A god, a demon, a harlot, a whore. A fascist, a killer, a sinner, a door. Death and division, humanity askew. A belfry of bats, a sea of black cats, so many moments out there to see, so many things you could see with me. So take a seat beside me and call it voodoo, because now you ride with me too…
press above to go and follow me over in Facebookland
press above to go and follow my Amazon Author Page
press above to go and keep up to date on book releases
we are the end, yet not to be, endless memories, of the wanted we, last of one, first of three, weathered, twisting light, harrowed in lines of white, shining in the night, but below the flesh, I sedate me, tasked with riddles, of who is me…
perceived to be, though I could not see, winds of change, left in the dying day, we are not thee, for who we wished to be, seen in dreams, the eyes of we, loud and forward, to the end of the night, flying downward, we went to sea, plastic fortresses, without me…
.
Open they said, for me to be me, person of one, interest is less, forgive the fortunate, for we are the ones that are, following a strain, taken from another less, hand in hand we go, not forward, but not alone, have something little, as the world takes it all away, a special few, soaking, open they said, let me be me….
We created the beast of a world not of our own, stars that felt the worthlessness of society, fortunate to be, sad to see, the fledgling spilt, open the sky wrought, end of what it was, we waited and saw, yet our eyes were blind, the sea was high, illusions given circumstance, was I the last one to see the sun shine no more, when the pastel colours suffered onward, into decay…
Profanity elusive dwells, my time allowed, harbingers all, cup the sorrow, tore the captions three, drip the drops of blood red gold, the fountain of a misspent youth, retreat inside the devils hell, spit fire, suffering, longing for the dawn to sedate the hate I boil and burn to, the window I ask, forgiveness not mine, I saw, yet I never seen….
Coiled around the deathly adder, limitless, devoid of chatter, a deathly soundless moment, captured in the realm of dreams, I watched the wizard pull away the seams of a frozen world, sickness an illusion, sanity foolishly a tool, underneath it all, not drowning, but beckoning to become, while dissolving into nothing…..
Chaos in its infancy, I beg for what you don’t need, sacrifice the born child, give way to the things that should never be, step forward, linger, as you hear me call for another day, spoken softly, you found my faults, displayed like a neon sign, ten yards wide, glorious to see, mocking me…
As the world turns, the worm waits, broken in the depths of man’s demise, woven like a jumper made of flesh not strung, a devil in the worship, we strive to be, what it is, nothing lost, open in the forever sky, let the schism in, above all else, a lie, is still a lie, while the sun dances endlessly, and the sky burns…
Cast asunder, the dived clan, lost in separation, myself, I am, woven tools, forked in blood, happiness joked along the outstretched hand, fiddled in the movement, five hands given back, who are we, we are when, spoken in tongues written down by man, jovial a word, spat in the dust, for I am, myself, in my hand..
He spoke in words not set in stone, his tone was mellow, his face skin and bone, for the sands of time had washed him clean, a nothingness unseen, dirty fingernails hid the tales, stolen from the ninth hand on the clock, aboard the sky devil did he swoon, down upon me, my boon, forever favored, cursed…
A brood of clowns, surround me, weeping from the top of trees, lofty heights, falling down, death to the city, death to the clows, a million of more, a thousand if few, mirrored images pained on sand, frowns upside down, hate turned around, worshipping laughter, sinning in hate, slices cut open, seas of red in our fate…
A sea ahead of me, the wind blows, fragile is the hand that feeds, my seed grows, left inside the wicked vice, I throw and too, let the fate that beholds me, not end the left of man, a woven tale, broken, stale, I was, but yet I am…
Petty words lost in hate, spit, succulent delights, I waved the world by as I paid my time, a hope to dream, last drinks, last breath, proclaiming fate, surrounded by hate, my self, my inner me, the devil beside me, he stands tall and towering, looking down and showering, rants, suffocating, alienation, I was, I am, me not you can see..
